The door clicked shut behind Lucas.
The room fell back into silence almost immediately.
Olivia stood near the table for a moment, then slowly returned to the window.
The night outside was still, untouched—like nothing inside this mansion ever truly reached it.
She exhaled once, controlled and quiet.
Then she sat again.
No change in expression.
No lingering thoughts on the conversation.
Just stillness.
Outside the corridor, Lucas had not moved far.
He stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door.
Her words replayed again and again in his mind.
“You never asked for it.”
Simple.
Clean.
Final.
It should not have affected him.
And yet it did.
Because she was right.
Lucas had never asked.
Not once.
Not for warmth.
Not for attention.
Not for anything.
And now that he had stood in front of it— it wasn’t offered to him.
Not even accidentally.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Back in the room, Olivia poured herself a glass of water.
Her hands were steady.
No hesitation.
No emotional aftertaste.
Whatever Lucas felt— it didn’t reach her.
She had already compartmentalized him long ago.
A presence.
A duty.
A political piece in the estate’s structure.
Nothing more.
A soft knock interrupted the silence again.
This time, it was brief.
Controlled.
“Grand Duchess.”
A servant’s voice.
“Yes.”
“The knights are finalizing security for tomorrow’s tea party.”
“I understand.”
The servant hesitated.
“There is also… Lord Lucas is still nearby.”
Olivia paused for half a second.
Then responded flatly.
“Let him stand wherever he wants.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Footsteps faded away.
Olivia set the glass down and returned to the window again.
Tomorrow will be louder.
Nobles.
Smiles.
Sharp words disguised as etiquette.
And two children who would be placed directly in the center of it.
Mike would pretend he didn’t care.
Max would stay silent but observe everything.
And both would be tested.
Socially.
Which, in this world, was often worse.
A faint knock sounded again.
Not from the door.
From inside the corridor wall.
A hidden panel shifted slightly as Lucas leaned against it outside.
He had not left.
He had heard the servant.
And he still didn’t move.
Inside, Olivia didn’t react.
She already knew he was there.
But she made no effort to acknowledge it.
Minutes passed like that.
Quiet pressure on both sides of a wall neither crossed.
Finally, Lucas turned away.
Not because he understood.
But because staying there made something inside him worse.
As his footsteps disappeared down the corridor, Olivia finally closed her eyes for a moment.
No relief.
No reaction.
Just acceptance of silence returning again.
Tomorrow would come regardless.
And whatever shifted in people tonight— would not matter when nobles started smiling in the morning.
The night deepened.
Olivia remained by the window long after everyone else had settled into sleep.
No more knocks came.
No more voices.
Just the distant sound of the estate settling into stillness.
She finally stood, extinguishing the last lamp in her room one by one until only moonlight remained.
Her movements were precise.
Unhurried.
Detached.
As if nothing in the past hour had required emotional weight at all.
Elsewhere in the estate, Lucas stopped walking only when he reached the courtyard.
Cold air hit his face.
He exhaled slowly, annoyed at himself for still thinking about that room.
Not her warmth.
Not her presence.
Just the absence of reaction toward him.
He clicked his tongue once and turned away.
It was irrelevant.
It should have been irrelevant.
The next morning arrived too quickly.
The estate was already moving before sunrise.
Servants prepared the grand hall.
Tables were arranged with perfect symmetry.
Flowers placed carefully to signal “peace,” even though everyone knew the event was anything but peaceful.
The tea party.
A polite battlefield.
Inside a side chamber, Mike stood near a mirror, adjusting his collar stiffly.
He looked sharper than usual—clean lines, controlled posture—but his expression remained guarded.
He didn’t like this kind of gathering.
Too many eyes.
Too many meanings behind simple smiles.
Max stood nearby, quietly adjusting Mike’s sleeve without asking.
Careful.
Silent.
As always.
Mike glanced at him.
“You don’t have to fix it.”
Then softly—
“It looks uneven.”
Mike huffed.
“It’s supposed to look like that.”
Max tilted his head slightly, studying him.
“It still looks wrong.”
Mike clicked his tongue, but didn’t move away.
That was their way.
Arguments without distance.
Silence without separation.
A knock interrupted them.
A servant opened the door carefully.
“Everything is ready.
The Grand Duchess requests your presence.”
Mike stiffened slightly at the title.
Max simply nodded once.
They followed.
In the main corridor, Olivia stood waiting.
Composed.
Dressed in formal attire that made her presence sharper, more distant than yesterday.
No warmth in her expression.
No softness.
Just authority shaped into a person.
Mike stopped a step behind the threshold.
Max stepped forward first, naturally.
Olivia looked at both of them briefly.
No long gaze.
No emotional reading.
Just assessment.
“Stay beside each other,” she said simply.
Mike nodded once.
Max did too.
Olivia turned.
“Let’s go.”
No extra words.
No reassurance.
Just direction.
And they followed.
Behind them, Lucas watched from a distance as they moved through the corridor.
Mike walked slightly ahead, posture guarded.
Max stayed close, quiet presence like a shadow that refused to leave.
And Olivia— she walked in front of them without looking back once.
Not once checking if they were following.
Because she already assumed they would.
Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly.
Not at her.
At the realization.
Her attention was not something she gave freely.
It was selective.
Controlled.
And currently, it belonged entirely to those two children walking behind her.
No one else.
Not him.
Not Peter.
Not anyone standing outside that small circle.
Lucas exhaled slowly and turned away.
He understood that much now.
And that, strangely enough, felt more final than anything she had said the night before.