In the office, Elisha entered quietly and stood before Alex. He looked up at her with a serious expression.
"Elisha," Alex began, "Maria remembered something important. The maid who delivered the letter… she had a large scar on her hand. I want you to investigate. Check every maid in the mansion thoroughly."
Without wasting time, Elisha nodded and began the search. But after combing through the records and inspecting every maid, they found no one with a scar matching the description.
Just as they were about to give up, Alex glanced out of his office window—and there, in the distance, he spotted a maid walking briskly away from the mansion. Her movements were odd, anxious, as if she were hiding something. Suspicion flared in his eyes.
He immediately summoned one of his most trusted soldiers. "Follow her discreetly," Alex ordered. "Do not let her know she's being watched."
An hour passed before the soldier returned, his face grave.
"Your Grace," he said, "I followed her to an inn. She went to the third floor, room number 302. I didn't see who she met, but I overheard their conversation."
"What did they say?" Alex asked sharply.
The soldier hesitated, then repeated the words he had memorized:
"'I've done what you asked me to do. Now, please, leave. I don't want to cause any more trouble for them.'
Another voice responded, 'Are you really abandoning me, sister?'
The maid snapped, 'Don't call me sister! After what you did to the family, you lost that right.'
The other voice replied calmly, 'Fine. But if you want her to remain safe, do exactly as I say. Follow every order. Soon, they'll all fall into despair.' Then… she laughed."
The soldier added, "After that, the door opened. I hid. The maid came out, and with her was another person—face covered in cloth. I couldn't see who it was."
Elisha clenched her fists. "How dare she betray us like this?! Let me handle it. I'll make her regret making us her enemies!"
But Alex raised a hand, stopping her.
"No, Elisha. We can't act just yet. We need to uncover their full plan first. Only then can we strike."
Elisha looked at him, noticing the storm in his eyes—fury boiling just beneath the surface. She bit her tongue and nodded in silence.
After a moment of deep thought, Alex said, "They're planning something… but when?"
Then it hit him—the upcoming Harvest Festival in the North.
"Elisha, double the security for the festival. Screen everyone entering or leaving the mansion from today until the festival ends. No exceptions."
"Yes, Your Grace," Elisha replied.
Turning to the soldier, Alex continued, "Keep following the maid. They're using her—probably threatening her family. Find out where they're keeping them. But do not engage. We need to be precise."
The North soon bustled with preparations. Maria, still new to the North, was excited for her first festival but also anxious, sensing the tension hanging in the air.
Alex called her to his chamber. "Maria," he said gently, "Stay close to Elisha. Learn how she manages things during the festival. Stick with her at all times."
Maria nodded. Knowing Elisha would be with Maria brought Alex a sense of calm.
The festival preparations picked up speed, decorations rising across the estate, laughter and music beginning to fill the air. And finally, the Harvest Festival arrived.
That morning, one of Alex's guards rushed in. "Your Grace, we found the location where they're keeping the hostages."
Alex stood instantly. "Surround the area, but make it look like a regular patrol. No one should suspect anything."
The festival began. The Duke and Duchess walked side by side, Elisha close behind. As they neared the stage, Alex suddenly felt it—like a shadow stalking him.
"Elisha," he whispered, "stay alert."
They reached the stage, lit the ceremonial lamp, and officially opened the festival. Cheers erupted.
The Duke, Duchess, and Elisha each took a glass of celebratory juice and raised a toast. Alex watched Maria closely—something still didn't feel right.
And then—it happened.
Maria suddenly gasped, her eyes wide. She dropped her glass and began coughing violently… blood dripping from her lips.
"Maria!" Alex shouted, rushing to her side and lifting her into his arms.
"Doctor! Someone get the doctor, now!"
He carried her swiftly back to the mansion. The doctors arrived in moments and began preparing the antidote. Panic and chaos spread among the staff.
Then a soldier burst into the room. "Your Grace! We're under attack!"
"What?!" Alex turned sharply. "Who?"
"Bandits, Your Grace. Over a thousand. They've breached Gate No. 2."
Alex clenched his fists. He looked at Maria's pale face, then at Elisha.
"Elisha… I'm leaving this to you."
He leaned close to Maria's ear and whispered something only she could hear, kissed her forehead, and stood. His face was steel as he stormed out.
By the time he reached the gate, chaos reigned. Bodies of fallen soldiers were scattered. Alex's eyes burned with rage.
"Form into three groups!" he ordered. "Group one, face them head-on. Group two, flank them from the sides. Once surrounded, give the signal. Group three stays here—guard the entrance and make sure no one leaves. Inform the other gates—shut everything down. Arrest anyone acting suspicious."
Then he turned to another soldier. "Send word to the unit watching the hostage location—attack from all sides and rescue them. Now!"
Back at the mansion, Elisha had taken command.
"Lock down the mansion! No one enters or leaves. Post guards at the Duchess's chamber!"
Inside, the doctors were working desperately—but nothing worked. The poison was unknown. Elisha's patience snapped.
"Bring me Susan," she barked. The maid they had once seen meeting the enemy was dragged in.
Elisha glared at her. "Tell me which poison was used!"
"I-I don't know," Susan stammered.
Elisha narrowed her eyes. "We know everything. Who did you meet? The hostages. If you want your family safe, speak."
Susan broke down in tears. "I indeed had the poison… but I didn't put it in her cup! I swear, it wasn't me!"
Elisha's blood ran cold. "There's more than one traitor."
She had Susan gagged and restrained, then rushed to Maria's chamber. Two male doctors and three female assistants were working frantically.
Elisha's eyes scanned the room, searching. And then—she saw it. A scar. On the hand of one of the assistants.
Her heart pounded.
The assistant moved toward the medicine tray, reaching for something.
Elisha didn't wait.
She lunged, grabbing the assistant's wrist and slamming her to the floor. The room erupted in chaos.
Guards rushed in.
"Tie her up!" Elisha shouted. "She's one of them!"
The assistant smirked, unbothered. "I didn't think I'd be caught so easily… but I was wrong. Still, don't celebrate yet. We're already inside. You've already lost."
Fury blazed in Elisha's eyes. She grabbed her by the collar.
"Where. Is. The antidote?"
The assistant only laughed in response.
Alex fought fiercely on the battlefield, unaware of the horrors unfolding within his own mansion. The bandits had already infiltrated deep inside.
Inside the mansion, Elisha stepped out of Maria's room and called out to everyone, "Be alert!" Her voice was sharp, unwavering.
But then—
A sudden, sharp cry rang through the halls. It was the sound of a soldier being attacked.
Then another.
And another.
The sounds of steel piercing flesh, bodies collapsing, and desperate gasps filled the air. The maids stood frozen, their faces drained of color, but none of them fled. They were terrified, yet they stood firm, determined to protect their Duchess.
Elisha's grip tightened around the assistant's arm as she dragged her into the open. Pressing a knife against the woman's throat, she called out into the shadows, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade, "Whoever you are, come out! Or I swear, I'll cut her throat!"
No one answered.
The assistant chuckled darkly, her body trembling with laughter rather than fear.
Elisha's patience snapped. She pressed the blade deeper, drawing a thin line of blood. "Come out. Now!"
A voice finally emerged from the darkness. "Stop! We're coming."
Fifteen masked figures stepped into the dimly lit hall, their swords glinting ominously under the flickering torches. One of them spoke, his voice laced with arrogance. "Let her go, and we'll give you a painless death."
Elisha's grip on the assistant tightened. "Throw your weapons if you want her to live."
But they didn't move.
Not a single one.
Their silence was suffocating, their confidence unsettling.
Then—
A dagger sliced through the air, hitting the assistant square in the chest. Her eyes widened in shock, a silent scream frozen on her lips as she collapsed, lifeless.
Before Elisha could react, the soldiers stormed in, and chaos erupted. The battle had begun inside the mansion.
Meanwhile, on the Battlefield
Alex slashed through the enemy ranks with a ferocity that sent fear rippling through the bandits. Blood stained the ground, and the clashing of swords echoed in the cold air.
A soldier ran up to him, breathless. "Your Grace! We've captured all the enemies hiding in the shadows and rescued the hostages."
A flicker of relief crossed Alex's face. "Good." He turned to his men. "Attack at full force!"
The soldiers roared in response, charging with renewed vigor. The bandits, now leaderless, crumbled under the assault. Alex stormed toward their leader, grabbing him by the collar.
But the man only laughed. "Here you are, fighting us... without even knowing what's happening inside your mansion."
Alex's heart pounded. A sickening dread coiled in his chest.
He turned.
And then he saw it.
A black smoke signal rose from the mansion.
The emergency signal.
Without hesitation, Alex leaped onto his horse and bolted toward the mansion, fear clawing at his throat.
The Final Stand in the Mansion
Inside, the battle raged. The masked intruders overwhelmed the soldiers, their numbers far greater. Blood painted the once-pristine floors.
Elisha, along with the maids and the remaining soldiers, barricaded themselves inside Maria's chamber. The masked figures pounded on the door, their rage echoing through the halls.
The wood splintered.
The hinges groaned.
Then—silence.
A deafening, eerie silence.
Elisha's pulse pounded. Was it over? Had their soldiers arrived?
Or was this a trap?
Then—
BANG!
A fist slammed against the door. A familiar voice followed.
"Elisha! It's me—Alex! Open the door!"
Relief crashed over her like a wave.
The soldiers scrambled to remove the barricade. As the door swung open, they saw Alex standing there, flanked by his warriors. Behind him, the defeated intruders lay in chains.
Alex wasted no time. He stormed toward the captured enemies, his sword dripping with fresh blood. Pressing the blade against one of their throats, he growled, "Where is the antidote?"
The man smirked. "Kill me. I won't tell you."
Alex didn't hesitate.
He drove the sword through the man's stomach. The room fell into a stunned silence as the body crumpled to the floor.
The others flinched. One of them—terrified—broke. "T-The antidote! It's in my pouch!"
Alex snatched it and rushed to the doctor's. They mixed the antidote with water and poured it down Maria's throat.
For a moment—nothing.
Then, slowly, her complexion changed. The deathly paleness faded, and her breathing steadied.
She was safe.
Everyone exhaled in relief. Some even wept.
But Alex's mind was already elsewhere.
His gaze darkened.
Someone had let these enemies inside.
And he knew exactly who.
He stormed through the mansion, his soldiers following close behind. In the dim corridors, a figure attempted to slip away into the shadows.
A vassal.
Alex reached him before he could escape. The man stumbled back, eyes wide with fear.
"P-Please, Your Grace, I—"
Alex's glare was ice-cold. "Who sent you?"
The vassal's lips trembled. He knew there was no escape.
With one last, desperate move, he pulled a vial from his robes and downed the poison. His body convulsed as he collapsed onto the floor.
With his final breath, he muttered, "Everything... for my master..."
Then he was gone.
That night, the North was silent. The chaos had ended. The enemy had been vanquished.
But Alex knew this was far from over.
Someone was targeting the North. Someone powerful. Someone patient.
Maria woke up, her gaze scanning the room. Seeing her alive, everyone's spirits lifted.
Elisha stood by her side, but she noticed something.
Alex wasn't there.
He stood outside, looking over the darkened land, his grip tightening around his sword.
This battle was won.
But a greater war had just begun.
Two days had passed, yet Alex still hadn't come to see Maria. Every time she tried to visit him, he refused, using the same excuse— "I'm busy." Maria, who had barely survived death, couldn't understand why he was avoiding her.
She sat alone in the library, lost in thought. The warm glow of the evening candles flickered across the pages of an open book, but she wasn't reading. Her mind was elsewhere—on Alex, on his coldness, on the distance that had suddenly grown between them.
"Why is he avoiding me?" she thought, frustration and sadness battling inside her.
Elisha, who had just entered, noticed Maria sitting there, staring blankly at the book.
"Maria… Maria!" she called, pulling her out of her daze.
Maria blinked and looked up.
"Oh, Elisha… when did you come?" she asked.
Elisha sat down across from her and studied her for a moment before asking, "How are you feeling? I know the past few months haven't been easy for you, but this is the reality of the North."
Maria sighed. "I can't say I wasn't afraid, Elisha. I was terrified. It was the first time I had ever seen a battle up close. But… in the end, everything was resolved, and I'm still here. So… I guess I'm happy."
Elisha smiled at her words, but she could see the shadow in Maria's eyes.
"Is something else on your mind?" she asked.
Maria hesitated before answering, "For the past two days, I haven't been able to see the Duke. Every time I ask for an audience, he denies me, saying he's busy. I know he fought a battle while I was unconscious, and I wanted to check on him… but I—"
Before she could finish, Elisha rested her chin on her palm and smirked.
"Tell me, Maria… do you love him?"
Maria's face turned red in an instant.
"I… I don't know!" she stammered, covering her face with her hands.
Elisha laughed softly.
"You know, Maria… after our parents died, Alex took on the responsibility of this dukedom. It wasn't easy. He was surrounded by wolves—waiting for the chance to tear everything apart. Before you came, this mansion was different. Alex was different. He was always busy, always burdened… He had forgotten how to smile, how to feel. But then, the day he brought you here… I saw him smile again. I saw warmth in his eyes again. I can tell you one thing for certain—he loves you, Maria. But the reason he hasn't come to see you is that he blames himself for what happened to you. He feels guilty. He doesn't know how to face you."
Maria's hands fell from her face, her heart pounding wildly.
"So, Maria… if you love him too, you have to be the one to pull him out of this darkness."
Maria's face turned even redder at Elisha's words, and she looked away, flustered.
Elisha burst into laughter. "Ah, what am I going to do with the two of you?"
Just as Maria was about to leave, Elisha's expression suddenly changed.
"How long do you plan to keep hiding?" she said.
A shadow moved near the door. It was none other than Alex himself. He had been standing there, listening. Without a word, he turned and walked away.
Elisha shook her head with an exasperated sigh. "They've grown up… but they still act like children."
Maria stood outside Alex's door, her heart hammering in her chest. The corridors were silent, bathed in moonlight, but the storm inside her refused to calm.
She had waited long enough.
Tonight, she wouldn't let him run.
The door creaked open just as Alex stepped inside, his broad shoulders burdened with exhaustion and the weight of unspoken words. Before he could react, Maria grabbed his wrist and pulled him in, shutting the door behind them.
"Maria—?" His voice was soft, uncertain.
She didn't let him finish. With determination burning in her eyes, she pushed him onto the edge of the bed.
Alex stared up at her, stunned.
"How much longer are you going to avoid me?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. There were no words for the war raging inside him, for the guilt that had kept him away.
Maria's eyes glistened with unshed tears.
"I almost died, Alex," she whispered. "And when I woke up… you weren't there. Do you know how much that hurt?"
His fists clenched. Of course, he knew. He had tormented himself with the memory every night since.
Before he could think of an answer, Maria threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. Her warmth seeped into him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Alex felt the weight on his heart begin to lift.
"Stop blaming yourself," she murmured, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. "You don't have to carry everything alone."
Something inside him broke.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, he raised a hand and cupped her face, his thumb tracing over her cheek. Their eyes met, and in that instant, the years of distance, of unspoken love, crumbled into nothingness.
He kissed her.
The world outside ceased to exist.
It started gentle—tentative, almost afraid. But when Maria responded, her fingers tangling in his hair, a shuddering breath escaping her lips, all hesitation melted away.
The kiss deepened, no longer just an expression of longing but a release—surrender.
Alex pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her as if he could mold her to him, as if holding her tighter would make up for all the time they had lost.
His lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, then to the delicate curve of her neck. Maria gasped, tilting her head back, her breath coming in short, unsteady bursts.
"Maria…" His voice was husky, filled with something raw and desperate.
She shivered at the sound of her name on his lips.
Her hands trembled as she reached for the buttons of his shirt. Slowly, she undid them, one by one, her fingertips ghosting over the skin beneath.
Alex let her take her time, watching her with dark, unreadable eyes.
When the fabric slipped from his shoulders, Maria took a moment to trace the scars lining his skin—reminders of battles fought, sacrifices made.
He tensed, but she only leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against his collarbone, her fingers mapping out the stories his body told.
Alex exhaled sharply, pulling her closer. His hands found the ties of her dress, and when she made no move to stop him, he loosened them with careful, reverent movements.
The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her bathed in the moon's silver glow.
Alex's breath caught.
She was breathtaking.
Not just in the way her skin gleamed under the soft light, or the way her chest rose and fell with each uneven breath—but in the way she looked at him, with a trust so absolute it left him undone.
His hands skimmed over her waist, trailing up to rest just beneath her ribs.
"Are you sure?" His voice was barely above a whisper, strained with restraint.
Maria nodded, but then, realizing words weren't enough, she took his hand in hers and pressed it to her racing heart. "I've never been more sure of anything."
Something in his expression shifted—like a dam breaking, like walls crumbling.
He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring every second, as if memorizing the way she felt in his arms. His lips traced the curve of her shoulder, the hollow of her throat. Every touch was a promise—one he would never break.
Maria shuddered, wrapping herself around him, feeling his warmth, his heartbeat, the weight of his love in every movement.
Time lost all meaning as they held onto each other, skin against skin, and breath against breath. It wasn't just passion; it was years of longing, of devotion, of two souls finally finding their way back to each other.
The night stretched on, filled with whispered names, soft gasps, and the quiet hum of hearts beating as one.
As the first light of dawn crept through the windows, Alex pulled Maria closer, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.
She had fought for him, refused to let him push her away.
And now, he would spend the rest of his life proving that she had won.
That she had always been the only one.
That they belonged to each other.
Forever.