As Ivan helped Natasha up, he asked, "Are you alright, Lady Natasha?" She thanked him but avoided his gaze, focusing instead on their clasped hands before hastily pulling away with a nervous laugh. Ivan, sensing her discomfort, inquired, "Is everything alright?" Unbeknownst to him, his wife's words were echoing in Natasha's mind, adding to her embarrassment. Unable to disclose Arya's words, she found herself at a loss for what to say. "Ah, let me help you with these," Natasha said as she began picking up the papers. Handing them to Ivan with a bow, she added, "Well then, have a nice day, Your Grace."
Ivan was perplexed by her demeanor. "What was all that about?" Lost in thought, he started walking and bumped into David. "Busy with papers, I see. How about a duel? You hardly come to the drill hall. Is Stefan on vacation?" Ivan sighed and replied, "Does that head of yours think anything other than a duel?" "Nope," David shamelessly answered. "But where's madam? I do not see her. We were about to have a duel," he pondered.
"Does she duel you often?" Squinting, Ivan asked. "Not often, but the other day we had one," David replied nonchalantly.
"What happened to your hand?" David noticed the bandages and asked Ivan about his injury. "Just a cut," Ivan replied as if it meant nothing, and started walking past David. "Come by when you're free," David shouted after him.
When night fell, Ivan made his way to Arya's chamber. She was curled up in the soft bed, tears staining her cheeks, a painful sight for him. With gentle caution, he brushed away the traces of her cries and whispered, "I know my selfishness, but please stay."
As he rose to depart, he noticed the untouched food, his concern growing. "Foolish woman, are you trying to starve yourself?" Glancing back at her one last time, he wished her a soft "Goodnight, my love," before quietly exiting the room.
The next morning, Miya and some other servants entered Arya's room to attend to her needs. A table by the window was set with light food for two people. "Lady, could you lift your feet?" one servant asked while another was instructed to change the flowers in a vase. "This will feel comfortable while moving, madam," they assured Arya, who remained mostly silent, responding with only occasional murmurs.
Kneeling before her, Miya said, "I hope for everything to be as it was before, my lady." Arya glanced down at her but turned her face away without saying anything. Ivan then entered the room and asked, "Has the table been set?" "Yes, my lord," one of the servants replied. "Very well, you may leave now. I will have breakfast with my wife," he ordered. The servants soon departed, with Miya following them out.
Arya sat on the stool, watching Ivan as he approached. "You look beautiful, my dear," he said, kissing the back of her hand. Arya remained silent, observing his actions as he led her to the breakfast table.
"What do you think you're doing?" Her eyes devoid of emotion, she cast her gaze at him.
Smiling, he replied, "Having this delicate breakfast on this lovely morning with my beautiful wife."
"Just because you turn a deaf ear to my words doesn't mean I haven't spoken them," she exhaled. "Do as you wish."
Arya began cutting the toast, focused on her food, eager to end the breakfast. In his presence, she felt a painful clutch at her heart. Though he occasionally spoke, she decided not to utter another word to him. In silence, their breakfast came to an end. Arya rang the bell, calling for the servants. "Clean all this up, and never do this inside my chamber."
She left the room, followed by the two guards. 'So adamant at doing their duty,' she thought to herself.
Arya knocked on the white door in front of her. "Yes, who is it?" a sweet voice questioned. "It's me, Lady," she replied. The maid of Lady Natasha opened the door, revealing servants attending to her. "I'm sorry to disturb you so early in the morning," Arya said, taking a seat on the sofa.
Through the open door, Natasha noticed the two bulky men standing outside. "You seem more inconvenienced than me, my lady," Natasha remarked about the guards. "Are you going somewhere? Perhaps I should come another time?" Arya ask seeing how the maids were preparing her.
"It's okay, Your Grace. Oh, I have an excellent idea. Perhaps you could join me for Madam Queila's book session today. I was about to head there," Natasha suggested with excitement in her voice.
"Thank you, but perhaps some other time. Then I won't disturb you any further. Have a great time," Arya said, leaving and giving Natasha a glance before exiting.
Natasha felt bad for Arya; it seemed she had come seeking help. However, that very help is something, Natasha is incapable of providing. She was yet to understand what kind of person Arya was, and truthfully, she was somewhat scared of what Arya might say if given the chance to speak. She is more than willing to assist her however she could but of all what Arya has asked for is the impossible one. Even the book session was an excuse to avoid Arya. Natasha didn't enjoy reading books that much; they weren't her thing.
"It is done; you look lovely, Lady Natasha," the maids complimented, bringing her back from her thoughts. She cast a polite smile and replied, "Thank you for your hard work."
"How was the taste of today's breakfast?" Stefan asked Ivan, a pestering smile on his face as if he were enjoying poking fun. "Couldn't taste anything horrible, satisfied?" Ivan replied with clear annoyance.
"You reap what you sow!" Stefan exclaimed, clearly relishing Ivan's misery. "Here, it says an attorney of the general sector, named Jonathan Michelle, was the one who made these papers. But much to my surprise, when we tried to reach out to him, he was gone."
"Gone where?" Ivan asked.
"That's the surprising part. Clearly, there's a person registered under this name, but there's no trace of the individual. It's as if he has disappeared into thin air. Fascinating, isn't it?" Stefan explained, his curiosity at its peak.
"Was it his real identity?" Ivan inquired. Stefan handed him some documents. "It seems real, but general sector, huh? Not a divorce lawyer? It seems he is quite the enigma, with not many cases included in his work. How could a lawyer of this level write such an agreement so meticulously? Find this man; he is definitely not your average one."
"I have a question?" Stefan's face held weight as he asked, "Who is Lady Natasha? She seems to be different from the rest of us. I know you brought her here for a reason, and her power... she is no ordinary lady. Did you perhaps know this beforehand?" "He is sharp as always," Ivan replied. "Think of it as compulsory."
"Very well," pushing his glasses against the bridge of his nose, Stefan eyed Ivan. "This all needs your attention. I do hope it's finished by sunset," he pointed at the large stock of papers. "If I'm doing that much work, what do I need you for?" Irritated, Ivan asked.
"Me?! My dear friend, who do you think has done those while someone was enjoying himself with his wife?" Stefan's smile carried a warning. Stefan had already completed more than half of the paperwork himself. "So perturbing," muttered Ivan as he began his work.
Inside the library, Arya was attempting to read alone, but the two guards loomed like pylons above her. How could one find solace with not one but two people to annoy you with just their presence?
"Do you see those seats? Those were made for people to sit, hmm? So how about using them for the purpose they were made for?" Arya couldn't scream in the library; it wasn't very ladylike. However, the way she spoke to them hinted that she might burst into anger at any moment.
"We possibly cannot, madam. The duke has ordered us to always—" "Sit," Arya cut him off, her annoyance evident in her crusty voice and mood. Fearing they might upset her, they immediately complied. After all, which knight didn't know of the kind of monster their mistress is? This fragile-looking lady here, beat down their vice-captain; they really don't want that to happen to them.
"You can come out now, Sofia," Arya said, glancing at the bookshelves. Sofia emerged cautiously, intimidated by the two powerful knights whose mana overwhelmed her sensitive senses. "Greetings, madam," she managed, attempting a smile, but her confidence faltered as the knights glanced at her, causing her to squeak and hide behind Arya. Arya, with a menacing glare, promptly ejected the knights from the library, issuing a warning that sent shivers down their spines. "Don't even think of entering," she declared, her demeanor transforming into something akin to a demon from hell. Witnessing her image like that, both knights found themselves sweating profusely.
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