In the dimly lit private office, Lady Seraphina finally noticed Elias had gone completely silent.
Despite her eager attempts to draw him in — teasing little laughs, playful brushes of her thigh against his — he hadn't said a word. The beautiful fourth wife's perfectly arched brows drew together in genuine concern. She tilted her head, golden waves of hair spilling over one bare shoulder, and asked in a soft, velvet voice that still carried the faint huskiness of her earlier excitement.
"Elias, my love… what happened? Why are you being so quiet?"
His deep, dark eyes flickered for the briefest second. Even if Reina's sudden strength and the Third Prince's announcement had shattered his plan to puppet the Duke's seat from the shadows, he could not lose Lady Seraphina Merchachts's vast merchant networks. Not now. Not ever. Besides… she was his.
He leaned back against the sofa with deliberate calm, the expensive fabric whispering under his weight. Slowly he turned to face her fully, letting his gaze travel over the lush curves that had belonged to him for years — the heavy breasts straining against her elegant dress, the thick thighs pressed warmly against his own.
A faint, possessive smirk curved his lips as he locked eyes with those deep sea-blue orbs that always softened for him alone.
Elias wanted to tell her everything — that Lady Reina von Arcturus had just revealed a level of strength no one in the duchy had ever suspected, that the careful plan they had spent years weaving had suddenly become ten times more dangerous.
But he didn't.
Instead he narrowed his eyes, slowly rubbed his chin with two fingers, and asked in a deceptively light, curious tone.
"Although… I've always wanted to ask you about this. I just never really bothered to dig deeper until now…"
The moment the words left his mouth, the air in the dimly lit office turned razor-sharp. The playful warmth that had lingered between them vanished completely.
Lady Seraphina felt it in her bones — this was no longer her playful, possessive lover. This was Elias von Arcturus when the mask came off.
His deep, dark eyes had become an emotionless abyss.
She gulped hard. A cold line of sweat traced down the elegant curve of her spine, soaking into the silk of her dress. Though her beautiful face remained perfectly composed, her fingers tightened around the crystal glass until the edges bit into her skin.
Elias continued, voice low, cold, and utterly devoid of warmth.
"I know politics and scheming are the lifeblood of this house. I don't give a fuck if my siblings tear each other apart for the Duke's seat or the resources or whatever else they want. But I have one unbreakable rule — one line that nobody, not even my own eldest sister, is allowed to cross."
He let the heavy silence crush down on her for a heartbeat.
"No killing family members."
His unreadable gaze bored into her sea-blue eyes.
"It might sound hypocritical coming from me… but even I have limits. And here's my problem, Lady Seraphina."
He leaned in closer, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"Why do you look so fucking delighted every time my elder sister is about to be humiliated by a stranger? Why do you hate Reina that much?"
Hearing this, Lady Seraphina's expression shifted instantly. She frowned deeply and crossed her arms tightly beneath her heavy breasts, the motion pushing them up and creating a deep valley of cleavage that strained against the silk of her dress.
"Who hates whom?" she shot back, her voice laced with clear defensiveness. "I never hated the First Wife's faction from the beginning. In fact, I tried — multiple times — to befriend Lady Akari. I approached her with sincerity, offered gifts, even invited her for private tea ceremonies. But for some unknown reason she has always treated me with open contempt. Every time I tried to speak with her, she looked at me like I was something filthy stuck to the bottom of her shoe. I asked her why. I asked her many times… and each time I was met with nothing but pure, unfiltered hatred."
Her sea-blue eyes flashed with old, bitter frustration as she continued, voice growing slightly heated.
"I am a human being, Elias, not a rock. After years of being treated that way… yes, I started hating her back."
Elias studied her carefully. He could sense — with the sharp intuition honed from years spent in the shadows of the Obsidian Veil — that every word she spoke was the absolute truth. No deception. No hidden agenda.
The cold, calculating mask he had worn moments ago cracked and fell away. He blinked slowly, slipping back into his usual composed demeanor as a massive wave of confusion crashed through his mind.
He simply couldn't understand it. *Why the hell does Lady Akari hate Lady Seraphina this much? It doesn't make any fucking sense…*
**Scene Cut**
As night fell over the grand ducal estate, the same senior maid from that morning moved like a shadow through the darkened corridors.
She was the woman who had hidden just outside Elias's bedroom door, legs spread obscenely wide, elegant black-and-white uniform bunched around her waist, two fingers buried knuckle-deep in her dark, hairy, dripping pussy while she frantically chased her own orgasm to the filthy symphony of Lady Seraphina's broken screams and the wet, rhythmic sounds of Elias flooding her womb. The same maid who had later gathered her broom and supplies with trembling legs and stepped into the cum-and-squirt-soaked battlefield without complaint.
Now that same woman — Sylvara Thorne — slipped silently toward the First Wife's private court.
After several minutes of ghost-like movement, she arrived at the door of Lady Akari von Arcturus's chambers.
The instant her presence brushed against the room's wards, Lady Akari's dark eyes flickered with unmistakable excitement inside. She rose with flawless grace, walked to the door, and snapped her fingers once.
Sylvara's advanced camouflage magic shattered like fragile glass and dissolved into nothing.
If any outsider had witnessed it, they would have been left speechless. Lady Akari's ability to detect and dismantle such high-tier stealth spells was terrifying — so precise and absolute that not even the Obsidian Veil's elite surveillance arrays could register it.
Without a word, Sylvara reached into the folds of her uniform and produced a small, discreet recording crystal. She placed it into Lady Akari's waiting palm with perfect deference, as though handing over a sacred relic.
"Miss," Sylvara whispered respectfully, voice low and steady despite the lingering flush still visible on her cheeks, "today Young Master Elias and Lady Seraphina entered the Obsidian Veil together. They appear to be staying the night. I will be unable to provide any further recordings tomorrow."
A flicker of disappointment crossed Lady Akari's refined features before she masked it instantly. With a subtle wave of her hand, she dismissed the maid.
Sylvara bowed deeply, reactivated her camouflage, and melted back into the shadows. She turned and began her silent journey back toward Elias's private court — exactly as she had done countless times before.
With the maid gone, Lady Akari stepped fully back into her private chambers. She locked the heavy door with a soft click and raised one elegant hand, casting a powerful soundless ward. A faint ripple of magic spread across the walls like invisible silk, sealing every sound inside the room so completely that not even a whisper could escape.
Still clutching the recording crystal tightly in her palm, she walked with slow, deliberate steps toward the large wooden closet tucked in the corner.
The doors opened without a sound, revealing row after row of Elias's old clothes — the very same garments he had bitterly complained about that morning when she had quietly replaced them with luxurious noble attire. Every piece he had loved, every casual shirt and pair of comfortable night pants he had cherished from his "previous life" aesthetic, now hung neatly inside her secret collection like sacred relics.
With visibly trembling fingers, Lady Akari reached in and gently pulled out the cute skeleton knight t-shirt — the exact one Elias had dramatically accused her of stealing while calling her a "bitch" in that theatrical tsundere voice.
She brought the soft fabric to her face, buried her nose deep into the collar, and inhaled slowly, greedily.
The faint, lingering musky scent of Elias — warm skin, faint traces of his morning exertion, and that unmistakable masculine aroma that always clung to him after training — flooded her senses.
Her long lashes fluttered. Her deep, dark eyes glazed over with raw, intoxicating bliss.
A soft, shuddering exhale escaped her crimson lips as she pressed the shirt even tighter against her face, shoulders trembling with barely restrained hunger.