Elias lowered his gaze, his voice heavy with fatigue and guilt.
"I swear to you—that was all. That was the closest we ever came. I admit, even then, I had my doubts about everything, but my feelings for Livia clouded my judgment. I let my affection blind me, and in doing so, I ignored the truths that should have been obvious. Looking back now, that night was filled with inconsistencies, yet I chose, almost instinctively, to cover them up. Later, I did make some inquiries, piecing together fragments here and there… and with all that has happened recently, it finally led me to…"
"To accept the explanation the moment I hinted at it."
Marcellus's voice cut across his words like a blade, cold and sharp. His gaze, piercing and unyielding, locked onto Elias with such force that it seemed intent on stripping away every layer of pretense.
Elias pressed his lips into a tight line. For a moment he considered averting his eyes, but forced himself to meet that glare head-on. He gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"Yes. You put it even more clearly than I could myself. It makes sense—it matches what I thought but never dared admit. And yet…" His voice faltered, a shadow of doubt passing through his eyes. "Even so, part of me still wonders. That's why I'm telling you this. I'd rather lay it bare, no matter how it sounds. I'm willing to be honest with you—if you can be honest with me. Only then can there be true trust between us."
The room fell into silence. Only the faint whisper of the curtain shifting in the breeze and the muffled rhythm of their restrained breathing broke the stillness. The air was heavy, as though something unseen pressed down upon them both.
At last, Marcellus spoke again, his voice low, edged with quiet force.
"And after that night… truly nothing else happened?"
His tone was deceptively calm, but his eyes carried a ruthless sharpness, an aura that demanded absolute truth, leaving no room for evasions.
Elias swallowed hard, his throat tightening. His fingers rubbed unconsciously against his knee, betraying the tension coiled within him. For a fleeting instant, a look of torment flickered across his face—like a secret long kept was being driven to the cliff's edge, one breath away from plunging into the open.
"We did continue meeting," Elias admitted at last, his voice low, weighed down with deliberate care. "More often, in fact. Our relationship grew closer with time. But aside from conversation, nothing beyond that ever happened. I always held back, always waited, because I still carried doubts. I wanted to confirm whether you truly bore any guilt before I dared step further. I respected you, and I respected Livia—I didn't want to cross that line rashly."
He turned slightly, as if to distance himself from his own memories, his expression tight with recollection.
"Each time she sought me out, it was almost always to ask about power—about influence, networks, shifting alliances. It felt like she was gathering pieces of a puzzle, collecting fragments of information. As for training…" His brows furrowed. "She hardly spoke of it. I did arrange instructors for her once, but she showed up only a handful of times, then refused to continue. I thought it odd, but for reasons I can't explain, I never pressed further."
Elias's expression darkened, his tone dropping lower.
"My real role was to shield her. To cover for her. Everyone could sense the rift between you and her—your brokenness was a shadow that clung to the air. You no longer returned to the castle often, but she was never free from watchful eyes. They followed her everywhere. So I… I had to help her mask her movements. She told me she only wanted to walk outside, clear her head. At first I was uneasy, so I arranged guards to shadow her closely. But after several times, when I checked, I found she truly did nothing more than wander through the safer districts of the city. Nothing suspicious. After that, I let the guards hang back at a distance."
His words slowed, as if weighed down by the memory itself. His gaze dimmed, troubled shadows crossing his face.
"I didn't want to corner her, didn't want her to sense my mistrust. But then, one day…" His voice faltered. "She suddenly collapsed, out there in the streets. And in that instant, I knew. This wasn't simple. None of it was what it seemed. The entire matter was tainted with something far more sinister."