My breath caught in my throat. The sight of him—Eiser—standing there, perfectly composed as always, sent a shiver down my spine. And the man beside him… he radiated a quiet power that made the air around them feel heavier, denser, almost magnetic.
I pressed my hand to the glass, as if proximity could somehow clarify what I was seeing. The sunlight streaming through the greenhouse caught the sharp lines of the stranger's jaw and the subtle curve of his mouth. His eyes—deep, calculating—seemed to flick toward me for just a fraction of a second before he looked away.
A tremor ran through me. Who is he? Why is he with Eiser? My mind raced with questions I didn't want the answers to. Part of me wanted to retreat, to curl into the sanctuary of my room, but another part—irrational, reckless—wanted to stay and watch.
I stepped back, almost knocking over a stone urn in my haste. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. The ache in my temple pulsed again, sharper this time, as though the mansion itself disapproved of my intrusion.
Frederick's voice—soft, careful—cut through my spiraling thoughts.
"Miss… are you all right?"
I forced a calm smile. "Yes… just… needed some air."
But even as I spoke, I knew I couldn't look away. The figures moved, Eiser's hand brushing briefly against the stranger's arm, a gesture casual to anyone else but electric in its intensity. My chest tightened, a mix of fear, frustration, and something I refused to name.
I swallowed hard, backing away into the shadows of the garden. The sunlight caught the necklace at my throat again, its weight suddenly unbearable. Why do I feel so… exposed?
And then, a whisper of wind carried a single thought I couldn't ignore: This is far from over.
STEP. STEP.
The warmth of the sun filtered through the towering glass arches, painting the floor in fractured patterns of gold and green. The air was heavy with the scent of earth and blossoms, red roses mingling with white lilies, their petals perfectly unfurling in the quiet heat.
I walked slowly, the soft click of my shoes muffled by the humid air. Amidst the floral perfume, there was an unexpected hint of something else—bitter, roasted, inviting. Coffee.
Following the scent, I came upon a small wrought-iron table tucked into a corner. An ornate teapot and delicate porcelain cup waited patiently, as if anticipating my arrival. My fingers hovered over the handle, then, with careful precision, I poured.
POUR.
The dark liquid shimmered in the sunlight, spilling into the cup like liquid obsidian. The table seemed to glow, each crystal detail catching the rays, sparkling faintly as though the greenhouse itself acknowledged this fleeting moment of calm.
I lifted the cup to my lips and inhaled the rich aroma. The warmth spread slowly, melting the tight coil of tension around my shoulders. For a brief instant, I allowed myself to sigh, to feel the delicate flutter of butterflies drifting past the glass arches above.
Yet, in the corner of my vision, Eiser stood. As always, flawless. Impeccable in his tailored suit, his profile sharp, commanding, yet utterly unreadable. He didn't glance at the roses, didn't notice the way the light danced across the marble tiles or the dew clinging to the leaves. He existed in another realm—one of purpose, calculation, and unyielding resolve.
Finally, his voice broke the quiet, low and deliberate.
"Lady Iansa's health is deteriorating. I've also been observing Serena. Her condition… it's only getting worse."
The words landed like stones in my chest. They confirmed what I had feared, a cold certainty settling over me. My thoughts flickered to the woman I had glimpsed earlier, leaving the main house with that graceful, fleeting profile etched into my mind. A small pang of longing stirred—an unbidden wish for a walk outside the suffocating walls of the mansion, a sip of coffee under open skies.
But even as that thought blossomed, it was quickly crushed beneath the weight of reality.
"I don't have time," I stated, the gravity of my mission crystallizing in my tone. My blue eyes narrowed, fixing on an invisible horizon, a distant point only I could see.
THE PROMISED TIME IS COMING…
And with it, the inevitability that none of us could escape.

The sunlight fractured through the canopy of glass and leaves, scattering dappled gold across the marble floor. My reflection glimmered faintly against the glass panes, a fleeting ghost framed by green and crimson. I drew in a slow breath, steady and deliberate, letting the humid air fill my lungs.
I need to formulate a plan.
STEP.
Frederick's approach was unhurried, almost lazy, but there was precision beneath the calm — the subtle control of a man who understood when to watch and when to act. He stopped beside a patch of red berries and green vines, hands loosely clasped behind his back, his dark hair slightly tousled in the light.
I turned my head toward him, my voice measured, almost conversational.
"I heard about you quite often while I was away on business." I let the words linger just long enough to make him attentive. "You must be visiting places where you'll attract attention… with Serena."
Frederick said nothing at first. His eyes, the color of smoke and slate, betrayed no emotion. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he set his teacup down.
CLINK.
The porcelain rang faintly against the glass tabletop — a polite sound, yet somehow final. He inclined his head slightly, a formal bow that felt almost mocking in its perfection.
When he straightened, a trace of a smile played at his lips. "Well," he murmured, "that's because Lady Serena wants me."
For a brief moment, silence settled between us. Then, a yellow butterfly — fragile, ephemeral — drifted down and landed on my hand. Its wings beat softly against my skin. I stared at it for a long moment, letting the quiet stretch, then spoke without warmth.
"Of course she does."
I lowered my hand, and the butterfly fluttered away, vanishing into the light. My gaze followed it briefly before I added, flatly, "Because that's your purpose."
Frederick's composure shifted — barely, but enough. His brows drew together, his tone sharpening as he asked, "What do you mean by that?"
I turned my back to him, my eyes tracing the sprawling expanse of the greenhouse — the polished marble paths, the curated vines, the carefully chosen beauty of it all.
"Everything I keep in this house," I said, my voice smooth but cold, "has a reason for being here."
The words hung in the still air, weighty, precise. I didn't look back when I continued.
"From the furniture that fills these rooms, to the paintings that adorn the walls… even the people who walk these halls."
My reflection in the glass stared back at me, distant and pale.
Then, quietly — the blade's edge of my control revealed itself.
"That includes you, as well."
A pause. The faint rustle of leaves. The echo of unspoken challenge.
Frederick didn't answer immediately. When he finally did, his voice was softer — too soft. "I see," he murmured, eyes fixed on me. "So I'm just another piece in your collection."
A smile, faint and dangerous, curved my lips. "Not quite," I replied. "Pieces don't move unless I allow them to."
Frederick's expression hardened, the faint civility in his eyes replaced by quiet resistance. He straightened, jaw tight.
"You seem to be mistaken," he said evenly, though there was a rough edge beneath the calm. "I'm here at the will of Lady Serena — the rightful owner of this house. I never needed the approval of anyone other than her. Well…"
He didn't finish the thought. He didn't have to.
I regarded him with detached amusement, my gaze cold and unwavering. The brief flicker of rebellion almost entertained me. Almost.
"That," I replied smoothly, "is the reason I allowed you in this house two years ago."
I stepped closer, the faint sound of my shoes echoing through the glass hall — slow, deliberate, predatory. "And that," I continued, voice lowering, "is why you are still here."
His defiance faltered, his grip tightening around the armrest of the nearby chair. I pressed forward, each word precise as a blade.
"You are here to serve a purpose. To help her sleep through her insomnia. To soothe her nerves when they fray. And above all — to protect her."
SCOFF.
The sound escaped me before I could contain it, a sharp, bitter laugh devoid of warmth. "But you seem to be failing rather spectacularly."
Frederick's gaze darkened, but I didn't pause.
"Insomnia. Irritability. Anxiety. Impulsive behavior." I listed the symptoms as if reciting a medical report, each one heavier than the last. "Do you know that all of this," I said softly, cruelly, "is because of the stress you cause her?"
His lips parted, as though to respond, but no sound came.
"That's why you need to do your job."
My voice left no room for doubt. It wasn't a request — it was a decree.
Somewhere, beyond the glass, a shadow passed — a maid's worried whisper flickering through Frederick's mind like an echo.
"But lately, her health isn't improving… it would be a problem for me…"
The memory stung, and for the first time, his composure wavered.
I took two steps back, letting the sound of my heels strike the marble like a verdict.
STEP. STEP.
"Also…" I began, my tone quiet, almost reflective.
The sunlight dimmed behind a passing cloud. The warmth of the greenhouse seemed to drain away, replaced by something colder, sharper.
"…if Serena were to die."
Silence fell. The words lingered in the humid air like poison.
Frederick's eyes widened, disbelief flashing through them. He blinked once, then let out a low, incredulous breath.
"Ha… I beg your pardon?"
He was searching for some trace of jest, but my face offered none. Only stillness. Only purpose.
I turned slightly, the light glinting off my cufflinks as I looked past him, as though his question didn't deserve acknowledgment. My voice, when I finally spoke again, was devoid of emotion.
"She is essential," I said simply. "And you were brought here to ensure her survival. Remember that, Frederick — because the time I promised is almost here."
The air grew heavier with unspoken consequence.
Frederick stood frozen, his earlier defiance replaced by something else — the dawning realization that whatever bargain he'd entered two years ago had been fatal from the start.
The air in the glass garden felt suffocating — warm sunlight pressing against the cold sharpness of our words.
I met Frederick's eyes, unflinching.
"Be careful that Lady Serena doesn't get pregnant."
My voice cut through the still air, low and precise.
"…Make sure you don't cross the line."
The expression on his face hardened instantly, anger flickering like a spark in dry air. His shoulders squared. His hand tightened around his teacup, then set it down with a deliberate clink.
"You seem to think I belong to you," he said, his tone low, dangerous. "You know nothing about me, Eiser. So don't treat me like I'm part of your possessions."
He took a step forward, his defiance radiating heat. His fist clenched at his side.
"I'm the only one in this house who can calm and control Lady Serena. You should be careful what you say to me if you don't want to ruin that perfect plan of yours."
For a heartbeat, silence. Then a small, humorless smile ghosted across my lips.
"Do you really believe," I asked softly, "that I know nothing about you?"
He froze — just a flicker, a momentary falter — but I saw it.
"You seem to be under the illusion that you hold some kind of power here, simply because Serena favors you." I took a step closer, shadows from the vines streaking across my face. "Do you think I would have let you step foot in this mansion… let alone her room… without investigating who you are?"
His breath caught. The faint confidence drained from his eyes.
My silence afterward was heavier than any threat.
And then, a final sentence — deliberate, precise, merciless.
"Remember your place, Frederick."

Outside the greenhouse, the world was alive with heat and light — a cruel contrast to the tension within.
I — Serena — hurried along the stone path, my black gown swirling in the humid breeze.
HUFF. HUFF.
Through the glass, I caught sight of them. Two figures standing too close, the air between them vibrating with hostility.
Eiser… why is he with Frederick?
My steps faltered. My heart thundered painfully.
He better not have said anything to upset Frederick…
Her thoughts flared, her hands tightening around her earring.
Or I'll make him pay for it.
Without thinking, I rushed forward.

Inside, the air was still charged from the confrontation.
"The reason you're here," I — Eiser — said, my tone cool and final, "isn't because Serena wants you. It's because your presence benefits me."
Frederick's face twisted with suppressed fury, but I continued, closing the space between us until my words were almost a whisper.
"Having said that," I murmured, "avoid parties. Gossip spreads like fire, and Serena's reputation is not something I intend to see burned."
I held his gaze, unblinking.
"Remember, Frederick — I'm the one who calls the shots, not you. Understand the difference… or you'll never know when, or how, I'll expose that secret you've been hiding."
Just as the final word left my lips—
BARGE!
The glass doors flew open with a violent crash.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"
Serena's voice tore through the silence, raw and furious. Her black gown rippled behind her as she strode into the greenhouse, eyes blazing.
"Serena—" Frederick began, startled.
But she didn't hear him. She went straight for me, her hand reaching for my lapel.
REACH!
"Don't you dare—"
Her words were cut short. In my refusal to yield, I turned sharply, brushing her aside — too forcefully.
SHOVE!
Her heel slipped against the stone floor. She stumbled, her ankle twisting.
"Ah—!"
The sound that followed — a dull, heavy THUD — cracked through the still air. Serena's body hit the edge of a stone bench before collapsing to the ground, the impact echoing in my chest like thunder.
THROB.
I stared down at her, my breath caught. For the first time, the silence was unbearable.
Frederick moved first.
"Lady Serena!" he shouted, rushing to her side, his voice breaking.
I didn't move. The weight of the moment pressed down like an iron chain.
The subtle difference in power — in control, in purpose — had turned into something physical.
Something irreversible.
The glass garden, once radiant, now felt like a tomb.
---
"LADY SERENA!" Frederick's alarmed voice rang out. "ARE YOU OKAY?!"
But I didn't stop. I brushed past her, my movement sharp. SHOVE!
She stumbled. SWAY. TWIST. Her heel caught on the stone step.
"Ah—!" THUD.
Frederick rushed to her side. "LADY SERENA! YOU'RE HURT—!"
I stopped. My expression did not change, though the silence around us cracked like thin glass.
Frederick looked up, his glare searing. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
Our eyes met through the broken stillness—his full of fury, mine cold and unreadable.
The greenhouse air hung heavy, the echo of roses and ruin closing in around us.


𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 6 𝐞𝐧𝐝