Chapter Sixty-One

“Knock knock—”
“Come in.”
“Your Highness, there’s unusual activity in Rome.” The steward entered the study and stood before the desk, addressing Arthur. Arthur’s gaze, which had been fixed on the computer, instantly shifted to the steward, his eyebrow arching. “Have you found out who’s behind it?”
“No, we haven’t.” The steward lowered his head, offering no excuse.
Arthur tapped his fingers rhythmically against the desk, his brows drawn as he pondered.
Seeing Arthur remain silent, the steward gathered his courage and spoke, “They say it would be best if Your Highness could go there personally.”
Arthur glanced sideways, his tone ambiguous. “They want me to go in person for such a trivial matter?” The steward was unsure how to respond.
“It’s not that they can’t handle it, but that someone over there is deliberately making things difficult. They want you to show yourself.”
“So, you’re all playing along, pretending you can’t resolve it, so I’ll have to go there myself and draw out whoever’s behind this?” Arthur’s voice grew sharper as he spoke, sending a chill through the steward.
Indeed, if they wanted to lure out the mastermind, there were many ways to do it, but none should involve using their own master as bait.
They had overstepped.
“Please punish me, Your Highness!” The steward bowed deeply in a perfect courtly manner, awaiting Arthur’s judgment.
Arthur said nothing for a long time, and as the silence stretched, the steward’s heart sank ever lower. But he remained respectfully bent, not daring to move.

“Well then, lately I’ve been dreadfully bored. Let’s play along with them for a while!” Arthur finally spoke, allowing the steward to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Let them know who’s the eagle and who’s the chicken.”
The steward, who had just relaxed, grew tense again upon hearing Arthur’s words. It seemed His Highness had been idle for far too long.
“Go inform them: hold position and await orders.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” The steward accepted the command and was about to leave, but suddenly paused, as if wanting to say something more, and looked at Arthur.
“What is it? Is there something else?”
“Well, Your Highness, if you leave, how should Miss be arranged?”
Arthur’s previously light expression suddenly darkened. After a long silence, he said quietly, “Send a few people to guard her closely.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” The steward departed with relief, but as he reached the door, Arthur called him back.
“If anything goes wrong, you will bear the consequences.” The cold, merciless words slipped from Arthur’s thin red lips, causing the steward’s heart to tremble.
Arthur turned his chair to face the window. Outside, darkness enveloped everything, the night so deep that nothing could be seen or grasped—just like the current situation, as if an invisible thread were drawing everyone connected into the vortex.

On the other side of the castle
Shadow Moon’s sleep was restless. Her brows were tightly knit, her smooth forehead drenched with sweat, soaking half the pillow. Her small face was pale, and she muttered ceaselessly, as if suffering endless torment. Her whole body curled up, trembling uncontrollably.

When Arthur entered, he saw Shadow Moon’s small figure curled desperately like a lobster in boiling water, unable to escape.
Heart aching, Arthur quickly approached the bed, slipped off his shoes, and gently lay down beside her. Stretching out his long arms, he gathered Shadow Moon’s small, damp body into his embrace. He kissed her forehead and softly comforted her,
“Don’t be afraid, Lanlan. Don’t be scared. I’m here. I’ll always be by your side.”
Just as Shadow Moon was about to collapse from her struggle, she suddenly felt a warmth envelop her. Her body was no longer cold, and her heart became tranquil. The furrows on her brow gradually eased, her complexion returned to calm.
Arthur watched her sleep peacefully, a gentle smile curving his lips. He slowly closed his eyes.

The next morning
Shadow Moon opened her bleary eyes and looked out at the brilliant sunlight, a contented smile on her face. She turned her head, and on the broad bed, only she remained. The spot beside her was already cold, but the faint creases told her that she had not been alone last night.
Gazing at the wrinkles in the sheets, memories of last night’s dream came flooding back. Her eyes deepened, as if bottomless, and her expression grew cold and solemn. Though her face remained calm, something within her had changed.

—Extra note—
To all who pass by, please add this humble story to your collection!