Javier was leisurely enjoying a freshly grilled skewer of seasoned at, comfortably seated near the Pekko pen just. Buddy, his smug Pekko, stood nearby, watching him with keen, expectant eyes, clearly hoping for a share.
It was a perfect, peaceful mont.
Until—
"Young Master."
Liana's calm voice pulled him from his blissful indulgence.
"Hmm? Yes, Liana?" Javier mumbled, taking another bite.
She gave him a pointed look, glancing toward the estate. "Mr. Alf is here."
Javier froze mid-bite. A cold chill ran down his spine.
Alf? Crap! If Alf was looking for him, that could only an—
He quickly scanned his surroundings for escape routes.
But before he could act—
A firm grip landed on his shoulder.
"Eeek!"
"Young Master."
The deep, professional voice behind him sent another shiver down his spine. Alf.
Javier slowly turned his head.
Standing right behind him was Alf, the head butler of House Armand—the strongest assassin in the kingdom, his father's most trusted shadow, and the last person Javier wanted to see when avoiding responsibilities.
Despite his polite deanor, Alf's grip was iron-clad. His cold, piercing gaze was unreadable, but there was no mistaking the weight behind his words.
"Lord Garius is calling."
Javier gulped. "F-Father is calling ?"
Alf nodded. "Yes, Young Master."
Javier's eyes darted to Liana, silently pleading for help.
She rely smiled, amused by his predicant.
He turned to Buddy.
The Pekko puffed out his chest and looked away, feigning ignorance.
Javier sighed in defeat. There was no escape.
Reluctantly, he set down his skewer and stood up. "Haah… Fine.."
As Javier disappeared into the estate, reluctantly following Alf toward whatever awaited him, a heavy silence settled over the Pekko pen.
Zania, seated on a wooden bench near the grill, quietly chewed her skewer of at.
She didn't speak or move unnecessarily—she just ate.
Because if she did anything else…
She could feel it.
The piercing gaze of a certain elf.
Slowly, carefully, Zania lifted her eyes.
Liana stood just a few steps away, arms crossed, her posture elegant yet imposing. Her erald eyes, usually warm when looking at Javier, now carried a distinct sharpness.
A silent warning.
Zania stiffened.
She hadn't done anything bad—but the pressure on her shoulders made it feel like she had committed so cri.
She glanced around.
The Pekko pen was peaceful, birds basking in the sun. The scent of grilled at lingered in the air. The only sounds were the occasional squawk from a Pekko and the faint rustle of the wind.
Yet Zania felt like a cornered animal.
She swallowed hard. Why was she even nervous?
She was a princess. A proud Amazarak warrior! She had fought on battlefields, commanded warriors, and—
Her thoughts were interrupted when Liana took a single step forward.
Zania imdiately focused back on her food.
She desperately prayed that Javier would return soon.
Because if he didn't…
She wasn't sure she would survive this silent interrogation.
Zania barely had ti to react before Liana stopped right in front of her.
The elf's erald eyes, cold and piercing, bore into her like a blade.
Then—a gentle touch.
Liana's slender fingers lifted Zania's chin, tilting her face up.
It was a soft gesture. Too soft.
Yet sohow, it sent more chills down Zania's spine than a drawn sword.
Liana smiled—a sweet, elegant smile.
"Are you going to show that face to my young master again, prisoner?"
Zania's breath hitched.
She knew what Liana ant.
That look.
The hate-filled glare she had once directed at Javier—the sa glare she had worn when she thought he was just another tyrannical noble, a cruel oppressor of the weak.
Back then, she believed she was right. She thought she was fighting against injustice.
But now?
She had seen the truth.
The people of Armand smiled when they saw Javier. They laughed with him, respected him, loved him.
And she—Zania, the proud Amazarak princess—was the fool who had believed the lies.
Her hands clenched into fists on her lap, but she couldn't find the strength to respond.
Liana's fingers remained under her chin, holding her in place, her smile unwavering.
A silent demand.
Would she glare at him again? Would she hold onto the hatred she no longer had the right to?
Zania swallowed hard. Her hands trembled slightly as she slowly shook her head.
"N-No…" she stamred.
Then, without breaking eye contact, she lowered her gaze.
Liana observed her closely, watching her every movent, as if deciding whether to believe her.
"Good."
Liana released her chin, but the weight of her presence didn't fade.
Instead, it grew heavier.
A dark aura flared around her.
A suffocating, crushing presence. Not of a warrior—but of a woman who loved her man so much that she was willing to kill for him.
The air felt thick. The temperature seed to drop.
"If I ever see that face again," Liana said, her voice calm and steady—yet dripping with quiet malice, "believe … I will crush you. Right here. Right now."
Zania froze.
This wasn't a bluff.
This wasn't an empty threat.
This was a promise.
The terrifying part?
Liana wasn't even holding a weapon.
And yet—Zania had never felt closer to death than at this mont.
She couldn't move.
The grilled at in her hands suddenly felt like the last al of a condemned prisoner.
Zania remained silent, her body tense as she continued to chew her food. She dared not et Liana's gaze again.
But then—sothing changed.
That overwhelming pressure—the dark, suffocating aura—vanished.
Liana's sharp, piercing gaze softened.
The elf's lips curled into a gentle smile. A smile so warm and pure, it felt completely out of place compared to the terrifying presence she had just radiated.
Zania blinked.
What…?
Liana was smiling at sothing—no, soone.
Cautiously, Zania lifted her head and followed her gaze—
And there he was.
Their young master.
Javier strolled out of the manor, both hands casually resting behind his back, whistling a lighthearted tune. His steps were unhurried, his expression relaxed, as if he had just walked away from sothing troubleso and was trying to forget about it.
But Zania didn't care about him.
She cared about Liana's expression.
That smile.
It wasn't just admiration. It wasn't just loyalty.
It was love.
And not just any love—a deep love. A love that had already accepted its fate.
Zania frowned slightly, tightening her grip around the skewer in her hands.
Did this elf not realize?
Liana looked young, yes—but elves didn't age like humans. Their skin never wrinkled, their faces never lost their beauty. By the ti she reached 100 years old, she would still look like a youthful maiden.
But Javier?
He was human.
By the ti he reached 50, his body would change. Gray hair. Wrinkles. A hunched back. Aging. Mortal.
Did she not see it?
Did she not realize that one day, the boy she adored— the boy she so clearly loved—would wither while she remained unchanged?
But as Zania stared at Liana's face, she saw sothing undeniable.
Those eyes.
Those deep, erald eyes full of love.
Love that defied logic.
Love that didn't care about ti.
Love that had already decided—no matter what happened, she would always be by his side.
Zania felt her chest tighten.
She had seen love before. But this…
This was sothing else entirely.
"Young master~"
That voice.
Zania's breath caught in her throat.
It was gentle. Too gentle.
It wasn't the cold, sharp voice that had threatened to crush her minutes ago. Nor was it the professional tone Liana always used with others.
No—this was different.
Soft. Loving. Overflowing with warmth.
As if this was her true self.
A self she only showed to one person.
Zania turned her gaze toward the elf, her heart beating strangely in her chest.
So this is who she really is… when she's with him.
Liana stepped forward, her eyes shining with affection.
"Young master? What did Lord Garius say?"
Javier stretched his arms lazily, grinning. "Ah, nothing important."
Liana tilted her head slightly, waiting for more.
Javier chuckled, then shifted his gaze toward Zania.
"Just stay inside the estate."
His grin widened, his eyes gleaming.
"Soone is coming."
( End Of Chapter )
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