What’s he looking at? Nathan stood with arms crossed, visibly irritated. Roderick’s next words were straightforward.

“Nathan. I entrust it to you.”

Caught off guard, Nathan loosened his arms. Grasping Roderick’s intent, he smirked.

“Are you sure?”

Roderick paused briefly in his stride. “Just kill half.”

“Challenging, but I’ll try.”

An exceptional occurrence. Roderick was entrusting his domain to someone else, an outsider no less.

The restrained coldness was more chilling than any explosive rage. Leaving a smirking Nathan behind, he exited the training ground.

Darren followed, swallowing his resentment. He hadn’t expected the scandal with Diana. He was unaware until the Second Knight Division started gossiping. Surely Roderick didn’t believe it?

“Darren.”

“Yes.”

Tensely, Darren responded.

“Find the source of that trashy rumor.”

“Understood.”

“Regardless of the facts.”

Darren stopped at Roderick’s slow words. Roderick turned to look at him.

“If I had really succumbed to madness, you would have been the first to die.”

Darren gulped, sensing the seriousness in Roderick’s shadowed face, which seemed to say he still wanted to kill him just for being associated with Diana.

“Sorry…”

Heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor.

Crash! The darkening sky unleashed lightning, reflecting his mood.

Enveloped in an unpleasant sensation, Roderick seemed to maintain his composure. Yet, unbeknownst to him, his body was being manipulated by the curse.

Unconsciously, he was drawn in one direction, arriving as if led to the manor. The door, without a key, opened as if waiting for him.
Crash! The air seemed to tear apart with a thunderous sound, followed by a flash of lightning. Soon, raindrops began to fall one by one on the glass greenhouse, quickly turning into a downpour.

The sound of rain seemed to swallow all other noises in the world.

“Why did you invite me when you declined all the other tea parties?”

Diana had turned down invitations to tea parties hosted by the ladies of the northern social circles.

Just to embarrass them, perhaps? Tsk. Irritated, Irene spoke, but Diana, sitting across from her, elegantly lifted her teacup.

“Are you ignoring me again?”

Diana put down her teacup with a click.

“Countess Irene.”

What now? Why is she calling me by name? Irene frowned, then her face hardened at the next words.

“You know my status, don’t you?”

“What, how rude! Why are you speaking informally?”

“Oh, my apologies.”

Despite saying sorry, Diana’s demeanor showed no real remorse. Irene’s lips quivered.

“Listen here.”

“It’s ‘Lady Beatrice,’ not ‘listen here.'”

The weight of that name was more palpable to those beneath her in status. However, Irene looked at Diana defiantly, not submissively.

Yes, she knows.

A smile tinged with ridicule curled on Diana’s lips, making Irene bristle. Smoothly, a gentle voice flowed out.

“What makes you so bold? Countess?”

Why is she acting so high and mighty without any real power?

“Lady Beatrice, aren’t you just hiding behind Commander Roderick because you can’t wield your family’s power?”

You’re the one rolling around without any power, aren’t you?

Diana didn’t react, even though she must have understood Irene’s insinuations.

Ha, no comeback because it’s true.

Irene felt smug, unaware that Diana was idly twirling a silver fork in her hand – a habitual action.

In the Beatrice family, any tool in hand becomes a weapon for assassination. One must always be alert, ready to counter any attack, hence the twirling of tools.

Even Nathan was wary of her when she was lost in thought.

While twirling the fork, Diana’s pink eyes diligently followed the red aura surrounding Irene. Training in magic perception made it clear.

‘The curse’s medium isn’t on her body. How dreadful.’

Irene reeked so much that Diana wondered if the curse would be absorbed by Roderick. If that happens, Diana might end up absorbing his curse again, repeating the same agony.

That can’t happen. As she told Nathan, her own well-being was paramount.

Should I threaten her? No, given her stubborn attitude, she wouldn’t reveal the medium’s identity. I should warn her, then search her room afterward.

“Lady Irene.”

“Speak, Lady Beatrice.”

Irene held her head high, as if she already saw herself as the Duchess.

To Diana, her demeanor was merely laughable. So fearless.

“You think the Duke is unaware of your actions? Hosting tea parties without permission?”

“Given his tacit consent, he must have approved.”

Is that really approval? The Duke seemed to be ignoring Irene’s conduct, gathering reasons to dismiss her in one fell swoop.

“Do you think this castle belongs to you just because the servants follow you?”

“Jealous, are you?”

The more Irene spoke, the more the red aura fueled her emotions.

“You’re lecturing me now? Do you think you’re something here?!”

Like pouring oil on fire, the red magic spurred Irene on. Her words became more reckless, and her pulse quickened with excitement. Finally, she made a slip of the tongue she shouldn’t have.
“You seem to be under the misconception that you’re already the wife of that bloodthirsty beast…”

Bang! The sudden event froze Irene in her tracks.

A finger laid on the table. Right in front of it, the fork Diana had been twirling in her hand was now stabbed into the wood. The fork, narrowly missing her finger, stood embedded in the wooden table.

Irene clutched her racing heart, glanced at the threatening fork, then raised her eyes to Diana. Diana was smiling.

“Be careful with your words, my lady.”

But her eyes were not smiling.

“One shouldn’t speak so about another’s man. Don’t you agree?”