Edsel let out a quiet laugh.
"I would never waste my time on something so crude. When you defeated me at the academy, you favored your left side. You protected your right arm the entire duel. It was obvious."
Fiora froze. At that moment, she felt something she rarely experienced.
Helplessness.
Someone she once considered inferior now held knowledge that could destroy her reputation. Then suddenly, she laughed.
Edsel raised an eyebrow, mildly curious.
"Pff Now I understand," she said, her tone shifting. "You called me here and threatened me because you do not want to break the engagement. You are using this secret to force me into staying."
Edsel lifted his hand, cutting her off. He shook his head slowly, disappointment clear in his eyes.
"You truly think so little of me?"
She frowned.
"If words are not enough, then let us settle this properly," he said calmly. "I will inform my father."
"What?"
Without waiting for permission, Edsel turned and walked out of the waiting room.
Fiora stood frozen for a second before quickly following him. Elena, still holding her bruised neck, hurried after them despite her condition.
Edsel did not look back. He headed straight toward his father's office.
***********
Two soldiers guarding the office stiffened when they saw Edsel approaching with Fiora behind him. The moment he stepped forward, they crossed their spears to block his path.
"Greetings, Young Master," one of them said politely. "The Marquis is currently occupied. If you would return at another time—"
"I need to speak with my father. It is urgent," Edsel replied evenly.
The second soldier frowned. "Young Master, those are the Marquis's orders. No one is to enter. Surely you understand."
Edsel's gaze hardened slightly.
"Then inform him that I am here. And that Lady Fiora is with me."
The two soldiers exchanged glances.
One of them let out a quiet scoff before he could stop himself. After all, everyone in the estate remembered the kind of person Edsel used to be, an arrogant, reckless, and troublesome young master. It was hard to suddenly treat him as someone worthy of respect.
"We cannot disturb the Marquis for that," the first soldier said more firmly. "Please return, Young Master. We will inform him later."
Edsel's expression turned cold.
"Are you … disobeying my orders?"
The air shifted.
Both soldiers felt a chill crawl down their spines. Something about his tone was different. Before either of them could respond, the heavy door suddenly swung open.
A tall man stepped out, his polished shoes clicking softly against the marble floor.
"Greetings, Young Master."
His sharp blue eyes moved briefly toward Fiora.
"Greetings, my lady."
The man's name was Hans Germi, the head butler of the Domitius estate. His dark hair, streaked with grey, was neatly combed back. A long scar ran across his left eye, giving him an unsettling presence. Combined with his thick mustache and composed posture, he looked more like a retired commander than a servant.
"The Lord will see you," Hans said calmly. "Please enter."
The soldiers immediately straightened.
Edsel gave a small nod and walked past them without another glance. Fiora moved to follow, but Hans subtly extended his arm.
"My lady," he said politely, "the Lord has requested to speak with the Young Master alone."
Edsel stepped inside without looking back.
The door closed behind him.
When Edsel stepped into the office, for what felt like the first time truly seeing it, his eyes scanned the vast shelves lined with books, ancient tomes, and magical artifacts.
At the center of the room sat his father, writing calmly behind a heavy oak desk. The pressure in the room was suffocating.
It pressed against his lungs and shoulders like an invisible weight. This was the presence of a Ninth Circle mage.
Edsel stepped forward, stopped at a respectful distance, and bowed.
"Greetings, Father."
Jasper did not respond and he continued writing, the scratching of his quill against parchment the only sound in the room. Edsel remained bowed, waiting.
After several long seconds, Jasper sighed.
"What is it this time, Edsel?"
Edsel straightened slightly.
"I wish to cancel the engagement with Fiora of the Alastair family."
The quill snapped in Jasper's hand and the Ink splattered across the document.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?"
The roar exploded through the room.
A wave of killing intent burst outward, forcing Edsel to stumble back. Papers were blown into the air, swirling violently from the surge of mana.
"Cancel the marriage?!"
The reaction was expected but it was still better than being tied down to that girl.
"That is why I came here, Father," Edsel said firmly despite the pressure. "Fiora and I have agreed to end the engagement."
"Agreed?" Jasper's eyes darkened. "Since when were you capable of agreement? Your role is to receive and accept. Not oppose."
"But Father—"
"Silence!"
The word cracked like thunder.
"You worthless son, you have ruined my name countless times, You Lazy, Arrogant and Foolish. Why do you think I arranged this marriage? It was to repair your reputation. To make you presentable to society."
"I can restore my name on my own."
Jasper's expression twisted with disbelief.
"Does this look like something I should believe?"
He grabbed his teacup and hurled it and it struck Edsel's forehead. The porcelain shattered and trickled down past his brow and toward his eye.
Edsel wiped it away slowly.
"This time will be different," he said, meeting his father's gaze directly. "I will form the Second Circle within five days and prove myself. I am not joking."
Jasper stared at him, fury still burning in his eyes.
"You?" he said coldly. "You who never trains? You who wastes his days causing trouble and beating servants?"
Silence stretched between them.
"Very well," Jasper said at last. "I will give you five days. If you fail to reach the Second Circle, you will forfeit any right to speak of this engagement again. And you will forget about having any authority in this house."
His gaze sharpened.
"But if you succeed… I will reconsider. As for Fiora, she will remain here for those five days."
Edsel understood immediately. This was both a threat and an opportunity, He bowed deeply.
"As you wish, Father."
Without another word, he turned and left the office.