It had been silent between the two nations for two straight days.
Dilrik seemed to be honoring Subrind's dead.
Or perhaps not.
Perhaps both nations were simply regrouping in the shadows, sharpening their knives while pretending to mourn. No one truly knew. All the people understood was that the silence felt too off.
---
In one of Dilrik's most exclusive districts, a black Maybach glided through the wide, spotless roads lined with towering villas and armed checkpoints. The area belonged to the nation's highest-ranking officials; even the air felt expensive there.
The vehicle passed through a set of iron gates and rolled deeper into one particular estate, not stopping at the main building.
At the far end of the property sat a rose garden designed for private tea gatherings. Lanterns glowed softly among the flowers, bathing the night in gold and crimson light. The scent of roses lingered heavily in the air.
A lanky man dressed in a wine-colored robe looked up from the magazine resting on his lap when he heard the car approaching.
Prime Minister George Willis.
A cup of tea sat untouched before him, long gone cold.
The car door opened.
And Rowan Crawford stepped out.
He looked entirely different without a white coat.
His tailored black suit fit him perfectly, the silver cufflinks at his wrists catching the garden lights with every movement. His shoes gleamed. His posture was different from usual, polished and controlled. He looked less like a doctor and more like the son of power itself.
The prime minister rose instantly, smiling warmly as he opened his arms.
"It's good to see you, son."
His voice carried genuine affection.
But Rowan's face remained hard.
Still, he accepted the embrace stiffly.
Like a man fulfilling an obligation rather than greeting family.
Rowan was the prime minister's only child.
Illegitimate.
George Willis had adored him when he was born; even though his maid gave birth to him, he had dreamed of legitimizing him eventually, raising him openly as his heir. But as Rowan grew older, one disappointment after another slowly killed those dreams. Rowan wasn't gifted or extraordinary. He lacked the brilliance George valued above everything else.
So the prime minister had quietly pushed him aside.
He still funded Rowan's education from the shadows, opened doors for him, and cleared obstacles before Rowan ever saw them. Every achievement Rowan possessed had traces of his father's influence hidden behind it.
And Rowan knew that better than anyone.
Which was exactly why he could never truly love the man.
If George Willis had genuinely loved him, he would have acknowledged him publicly years ago instead of hiding him like a stain.
So Rowan used him in return as a stepping stone.
Nothing more.
The staff quietly vanished after serving tea, leaving father and son alone within the roses.
The prime minister noticed Rowan's moody expression.
"What troubles you, son?" he asked gently.
Rowan didn't bother beating around the bush; he said it straightforwardly.
"I am in love."
The prime minister blinked. Then immediately, genuine delight brightening his face.
"There is someone I wish to marry," Rowan continued.
"That's wonderful news. Who is she?"
But Rowan's expression darkened instead of softening.
"No matter what I do, she never notices my feelings. And recently..." His jaw tightened slightly. "...I realized if I continue waiting, I may lose her completely. I came to you because I want your help securing her."
Curiosity danced in George's eyes.
He had always believed Rowan was a desirable man; at least he had carved him to appear like that. Successful, handsome, and socially well positioned. The idea that some woman could reject him felt almost insulting.
"This woman..." Rowan paused before finally saying,
"...is Doctor Rivers."
The atmosphere changed instantly.
George's face darkened.
"The same Doctor Rivers you begged me to help free from government chains?"
His voice had lost most of its warmth now.
Rowan laughed coldly.
"Saying it like that makes it sound as though you actually freed her." His gaze sharpened. "But both of us know the truth. You only loosened the leash enough for the public to stop talking."
The prime minister frowned deeply. He disliked being challenged.
But this was still his son.
"What exactly do you want me to do?"
"Anything." Rowan's voice hardened with impatience. "Withdraw her so-called freedom. Place her back under government supervision fully. Control who she sees and who she marries. Arrange circumstances so she has no choice but to marry me."
George stared at him for several long seconds.
"How am I supposed to justify that?" he asked. "I was the one who publicly advocated for her independence in the first place."
"You are the prime minister." Rowan stood adjusting his sleeves. "Figure it out."
Then he turned to leave.
"At least stay and eat," George called after him quickly.
There was almost pleading in his voice.
But Rowan didn't stop walking.
"Not interested. I still have things to do."
The Maybach pulled away minutes later, leaving the prime minister alone among the roses.
For a long time, George didn't move.
And eventually, he sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair, exhaustion suddenly settling into his bones.
How had he missed something so obvious?
Doctor Rivers was the only woman Rowan had ever asked him to help personally. The only one he ever spoke about with emotion beneath his calm facade.
And now things had gone too far.
George looked toward the empty driveway where the car had disappeared.
"What exactly am I about to do?" he murmured.
---
Elsewhere in the city, the woman unknowingly at the center of some discussion was currently losing a battle against instant noodles.
Sienna stood in her kitchen staring at the disaster unfolding before her with frustration in her eyes.
The kitchen looked less like the aftermath of a natural disaster.
Flour somehow covered parts of the counter despite not being required for instant noodles.
A pot of water boiled aggressively on one part of the stove, threatening to spill over; broken noodles littered the floor; one tragic egg had rolled off the counter and exploded dramatically on impact.
And in the middle of the destruction stood Sienna.
Completely defeated.
Behind her, Ava crossed her arms tightly, looking like a disappointed mother watching her child fail basic survival skills.
"Doctor," Ava said flatly, "you added too much water."
Sienna froze mid-stir.
"...How?"
She had been careful this time. Extremely careful. She had even read the instructions twice.
"Cooking is difficult," Sienna declared miserably. "I don't want to do this anymore."
She dropped the spoon back into the pot dramatically and immediately tried retreating from the kitchen.
But Ava blocked the doorway effortlessly.
"If you cannot prepare instant noodles," Ava said sternly, "what exactly will you do when you marry?"
"Then I simply won't get married."
The answer came without hesitation.
Truthfully, Sienna had never cared about domestic skills. Why would she? Restaurants existed, delivery services existed, and Ava existed.
Cooking had never once felt necessary.
Unfortunately, Ava had decided today would become "life skills day."
At first, Sienna had agreed enthusiastically. She genuinely wanted to do something nice for Ava after years of being taken care of.
Then reality arrived.
Sienna didn't even know how to light the stove properly.
She couldn't cut vegetables evenly.
And when Ava had asked her to dice onions earlier, Sienna somehow produced giant uneven chunks that looked hacked rather than diced. Ava had silently thrown them away before Sienna noticed.
The situation was hopeless.
"Come on, Doctor." Ava's tone softened slightly. "One day you will marry eventually. What happens if your husband likes homemade meals? Someone like Director Rowan, for example?"
Sienna's face twisted instantly.
"I am definitely not marrying Director Rowan."
"But he genuinely loves you."
"I don't love him." Sienna shook her head firmly. "No matter how much I try, I just can't feel that way about him. The whole thing feels..." she visibly cringed, "...cringy."
Ava sighed deeply.
"Doctor, you are truly helpless."
"I know."
Sienna slipped around her immediately like an escaping criminal.
"But I can't help that either. Bye!"
She fled toward the library before Ava could drag her back.
The kitchen door slammed shut behind her.
Ava stood silently among the destruction for several moments before finally pulling out her phone.
The entire conversation had been recorded.
At Rowan's request.
He had asked Ava to subtly guide the conversation toward marriage and send him Sienna's honest response afterward.
And Ava had done exactly that.
She forwarded the audio recording with a sad emoji attached.
In her mind, she was helping Sienna.
One day, she would no longer be around to take care of her mistress.
And Sienna needed someone dependable beside her when that happened.
To Ava, Rowan seemed like the safest choice.
After sending the recording, she finally sighed and began cleaning the wrecked kitchen.
---
Meanwhile, Rowan received the message while driving.
The city lights passed across his face silently as he opened the recording.
And he listened to every word.
"I don't plan to get married. And certainly not to the director."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"I don't love him."
Something twisted sharply in his chest.
"No matter how I try, I can't feel that way about him. It's cringy."
The audio ended, and for several long moments, Rowan simply stared at the dark screen of his phone.
Then he casually tossed his phone somewhere even though his inside was boiling.
If Sienna wouldn't walk toward him willingly...
Then he would simply make sure she had nowhere else to go.