The sudden, suffocating silence stretches so thin it feels as though it might snap. The lingering trace of that warm, familiar nostalgia evaporates instantly, replaced by a cold, heavy knot of dread in the pit of my stomach.
I look from Orlando's tightly clenched jaw to the Duke's averted eyes. My corporate training has taught me to read a room in seconds, and right now, every metric is screaming the same thing: They are hiding something. A profound, dark sadness seems to settle over both of them, thick enough to choke the air right out of the room.
Did I say something wrong? I wonder frantically, my pulse ticking upward. Did something happen to the Duchess while my soul was pulled back into my original body?
The absolute lack of data is making me hyper-vigilant. If something is broken in this household, I need to know what it is so I can adapt my strategy. I can't just let them shut down.
"What... what happened?" I ask, my voice cracking slightly as I lean forward, intentionally breaking the silence. "Did something happen to Mother? Is she ill, or did something transpire while I was sleeping? Please, what is going on? Tell me, Father. I am getting incredibly worried."
Hearing the genuine panic in my voice, the Duke finally snaps out of his rigid trance. He turns his head back toward me, his sharp eyes softened by a look of deep, sorrowful conflict.
Slowly, deliberately, the Duke comes closer and places his large, warm hand gently over mine.
"You do not have to worry about her, my dear daughter," the Duke says, his deep voice uncharacteristically soft, trying to soothe the tension. "Actually, everything is fine. There is absolutely nothing for you to worry about."
I stare at his hand on mine, then look up into his eyes, completely unfooled by the corporate damage control.
"Then what is it?" I press, refusing to let him deflect. "What are you hiding from me, Father? Is there something you don't want me to know? Please, just tell me. I can handle it. Not knowing is only making me anxious."
A heavy silence descends on the room once more. Orlando shifts his weight, staring out the window, his expression grim. The Duke stares at me for a long, agonizing moment, mapping the stubborn determination on my face. He realizes I'm not going to back down.
Finally, the Duke lets out a long, ragged sigh.
"Very well," the Duke murmurs, his grip on my hand tightening just a fraction. "Let me tell you everything. I cannot hide it from you forever anyway."
He takes a slow breath, his eyes are darkening as he takes us back to the day my world turned upside down.
"The day when we realized that you weren't waking up again, the estate was thrown into absolute chaos," the Duke begins, his voice steadying into a cold, clinical tone. "While we were frantically pulling strings to bring the imperial doctor from the capital, we were also quietly launching a massive investigation into your poisoning. Someone had dared to harm a member of the Valerius family under our own roof, and we wanted answers."
I listen intently, my mind cataloging every detail as he speaks.
"As we began mapping out the timeline of that day, we discovered something highly irregular," the Duke continues. "Our head chef—the main chief of the estate kitchens—was completely absent at the same time when they surved you the wrong dishes. The official record stated he had requested an emergency leave due to an urgent situation at his family home. Everything about the timing felt entirely too convenient. Too suspicious."
The Duke glances over at his son. "Orlando went to track him down personally."
Orlando nods grimly, finally looking back toward the bed. "I found him hiding out in a remote village. The moment I questioned him, the truth spilled out. At first, the chief received a letter ordering him to leave the estate for a month, but he didn't believe it. He dismissed it entirely and took no steps to leave. But then, the threat letters started coming."
Orlando's expression grows deeply serious as he steps closer. "That's when the chief realized the terrifying reality of the situation. The Valerius estate has incredibly high security; it is strictly impossible for an outsider to pass down threat letters to the staff without them being intercepted and checked by our guards. For these letters to reach him directly and repeatedly meant only one thing: the person threatening him possesses immense power and authority inside this very house."
"Exactly," the Duke pieces together, his jaw clenching tightly. "The chief realized this mastermind had the power to control everything, observing his every single move from the shadows. Fearing for his life, he panicked and drafted that urgent letter claiming his father was ill. Because it looked completely legitimate on paper, I approved it myself, and he fled the estate in a massive hurry. It was a perfect, chilling plan, Elanore. Whoever arranged this held the strings to our own household, waiting for the absolute perfect moment to strike."
"So what are you implying, Father?" I ask, my voice tightening as the tension in the room threatens to crush my remaining patience. I shift against the pillows, the corporate composure I worked so hard to maintain completely fracturing under the weight of their riddles.
"I explicitly asked you about Mother," I press, looking directly into the Duke's darkened eyes. "Why are you telling me about the chief and these elaborate schemes? I am not asking you about the kitchen staff. What are you truly implying? Is this investigation directly related to Mother's sudden absence? Just tell me, Father. I am getting incredibly impatient."
The Duke looks down at my trembling hands, his expression a heavy mask of solemn restraint. He doesn't flinch at my sharp tone; instead, he simply reaches out, his grip anchoring me to the reality of the bed.
"Calm yourself, my dear daughter," the Duke says, his deep voice carrying a strict, unyielding gravity. "I will tell you everything. But you must be patient, and you must listen to every single detail carefully. To understand the gravity of where we stand today, you have to hear this story from the absolute beginning. There is far more to this than you realize."
He pauses, the shadows of the room lengthening around us as he prepares to drop the final, devastating piece of the puzzle.
"Listen closely, Elanore. Because the hand that forced the chief to flee... belonged to the Duchess."
"The final piece of the puzzle has been laid bare right at the bedside. While Sara's calculating corporate mind had already dediced that the Duchess was likely pulling the strings to punish or humiliate Elanore, the real shock is the Duke himself. She never expected the notoriously cold ruler of the house to uncover the entire conspiracy so ruthlessly—and openly take Elanore's side the moment she woke up.
What exactly transpired within the estate walls while Sara was asleep for eight days to make the Duke shift his alliances so drastically? Now that the Duchess's treason has been exposed to the head of the family, what kind of severe punishment has already been set in motion? And how will Sara leverage this sudden, powerful backing from the Duke to secure her ultimate survival under the cosmic contract?
The scales of power have completely tipped! Let's step into the next chapter to hear the Duke's full, dark explanation of the Duchess's fate! Stay with us to see what happens next!"