The Duchess placed a hand on his arm, her eyes scanning him as if checking for injuries.
"I knew they couldn't be trusted," she muttered under her breath, her worry etched into her features. "If they threatened you, Arlon, I swear—"
"Your Grace," Dimitri interrupted smoothly, stepping forward with a bow. His calm tone cut through the moment like a soothing balm.
"I assure you, Lord Arlon handled the situation with the utmost control. The evidence against the three nobles was undeniable, and no harm was done to him."
The Duchess let out a breath, relief washing over her face as she straightened. "You're certain?" she asked, looking back to Dimitri.
"Quite certain," Dimitri replied, his expression calm and reassuring. "The evidence Lord Arlon presented left no room for doubt. Their actions were treacherous, and the guards acted accordingly."
The Duchess turned back to Arlon, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "I was worried," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "When I saw the guards taking them away, I feared the worst. But it seems you've handled everything perfectly."
Arlon hesitated, unsure how to respond. His mind was still calculating the aftermath of the meeting, the consequences of exposing the three nobles, and the potential ripple effects on the family's alliances. He hadn't expected her concern for him to overshadow all of that.
"Thank you," he said finally, his voice measured. "I'm fine. Truly."
The Duchess studied him for a moment longer, as if looking for cracks in his composure. When she found none, a faint smile touched her lips.
"You've always had my trust, Arlon," she said gently, though there was a firmness in her tone that made it clear this wasn't a sentiment she shared lightly.
"From the beginning, I had my suspicions about those three. Their influence, their methods—it never sat right with me. But there's only so much I can do directly."
She stepped back slightly, her gaze sweeping over the room. "That's why I trusted you to handle it. And you didn't disappoint me."
Her words hung in the air, their weight sinking into the hearts of the remaining nobles. Some shifted uncomfortably, while others looked at Arlon with newfound respect.
The Duchess turned to Dimitri. "Ensure everything is handled properly with their arrests," she said firmly. "I want full transparency in this matter. If there's any lingering loyalty to those three, I want it rooted out immediately."
"Of course, your Grace," Dimitri replied with a bow.
The Duchess turned back to Arlon, her expression softening as the tension in her shoulders eased. "You've done well, Arlon," she said, her tone warm but firm. "I trusted you to handle this, and you've exceeded my expectations. But let me take care of what remains."
Her gaze swept back to the remaining nobles, her tone hardening. "I want full transparency from every corner of this house. Any lingering ties to those traitors will be dealt with swiftly. This family cannot afford further disloyalty."
The nobles stiffened in their seats, their heads bowing slightly as they muttered quick affirmations. The Duchess turned to Dimitri with a sharp nod. "See that everything is handled properly."
The Duchess's sharp eyes flicked to the table where the documents lay, and a faint smile tugged at her lips. "Good. Very good." She straightened, her usual commanding presence returning. "I'll handle the rest from here."
She turned back to Arlon, her expression softening once more. "You've done enough, Arlon. Go, take a moment to rest. I'll deal with the remaining nobles and ensure everything is settled."
Arlon hesitated, his mind racing. He hadn't expected her to take over so quickly—or to dismiss him with such care. But he nodded, bowing his head slightly. "Very well," he said quietly.
Dimitri stepped beside him, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. "Come, my lord," he said gently.
As Arlon and Dimitri left the room, the atmosphere shifted almost immediately. The Duchess turned her full attention to the remaining nobles, her expression sharp and commanding. The tension in the room, which had been simmering since the arrests, seemed to deepen under her gaze.
Her voice was calm but carried an undeniable authority. "I trust I don't need to explain the gravity of what has just occurred," she said, her tone cutting through the silence like a blade.
"The betrayal of three of our own is not only a disgrace but a reminder of the importance of loyalty and integrity within this family."
The nobles straightened in their seats, their earlier uncertainty replaced by a palpable sense of unease.
"The heir has proven himself capable of uncovering deception and acting decisively in the face of betrayal," the Duchess continued, her gaze sweeping over the table.
"I expect each of you to consider carefully the example he has set. From this moment forward, there will be no tolerance for disloyalty or subversion within these halls."
The nobles sat stiffly in their chairs, the Duchess's commanding presence tightening the air in the room. Some nodded in quick agreement, their faces pale with unease, while others exchanged nervous glances, their gazes flicking toward Arlon as though reevaluating his position entirely.
One noble, younger than the others, cleared his throat hesitantly. "It is reassuring, Your Grace," he said carefully, "to see Lord Arlon's decisive actions protecting the family." His words drew quiet murmurs of agreement, though their sincerity felt cautious at best.
The Duchess's sharp gaze swept over the table, silencing the murmurs instantly. "I expect no less from any of you," she said coolly. "Consider this a reminder of where your loyalties should lie."
As the heavy doors closed behind them, Arlon and Dimitri walked in silence for a few moments. The tension of the meeting still lingered in the air, though it had begun to dissipate with each step they took.
Dimitri glanced at Arlon, his voice quiet but steady. "You handled yourself well, my lord. The Duchess's trust in you was not misplaced."
Arlon didn't respond immediately, his thoughts still caught on the Duchess's concern. The way she had asked if he was hurt, the trust she had placed in him to handle the situation—it was unexpected, almost unsettling.
"I wasn't expecting her to react like that," Arlon admitted finally, his voice low.
"She cares for you more than you realize," Dimitri said simply. "Though she rarely shows it outright, her faith in you has always been strong."
Arlon walked silently beside Dimitri, his gaze fixed ahead but his thoughts lingering on the Duchess's words. Faith in me, he thought. She trusts me—not the heir she expected, but the one I've become.
His steps slowed slightly as the weight of her trust settled on him. I only hope that trust doesn't crumble if—or when—she learns the truth.
The silence of the castle's stone corridors was broken by the faint sound of giggles, carrying an unexpected warmth through the otherwise cold and quiet halls. Arlon's footsteps slowed, his sharp gaze narrowing slightly as he tilted his head toward the source.
Hehehe— Pffft—
It wasn't often that laughter echoed within these walls, and the unfamiliarity of it drew him forward, his curiosity masked by his usual composed demeanor.
As he rounded the corner, the sight before him made him pause. Near one of the arched windows that overlooked the garden, Irish and Irien were crouched together, their delicate hands busily tying something.
Their muffled giggles burst into laughter, bright and carefree, as if they had found a moment untouched by the weight of the castle's grandeur.
Step— Step—
Arlon approached silently, and the twins turned at the sound of his measured footsteps.
"Lord Arlon!" Irish beamed, springing to her feet with an energy that seemed to brighten the corridor. Her dress swished lightly as she brushed it off, her expression alight with the same excitement she always carried, even though only a short time had passed since their last meeting.
Irien followed her sister's gaze and gave a polite, faint smile. "Good evening, Lord Arlon," she said softly, her voice steady yet carrying a hint of warmth.
Arlon's sharp eyes flicked past them, catching sight of a familiar black figure. He blinked. Sitting just behind the twins was Ace—except now, the cat was adorned with a thin red ribbon tied neatly around his neck.
The ribbon was vivid, the color of fresh embers, and matched Ace's piercing crimson eyes almost perfectly.
"..."
Ace's feline expression was stoic, as if he were tolerating an unbearable weight, but his tail flicked lazily, betraying his composure.
Pffft-
"What… is this?" Arlon's tone was flat, though his brow arched slightly in a mixture of disbelief and reluctant amusement.
Irish clapped her hands together in delight. "Do you like it? Doesn't he look so handsome?"
Irien nodded, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "We thought it would suit him. It matches his eyes."
Arlon's gaze flicked to Ace, whose voice suddenly echoed in his mind, low and dry. "Before you say anything, noble Arlon, let me explain."