While the catgirl and the Vampire Lolita discussed their pasts in the basement, in Mefia’s mansion, two figures conversed in the second-floor parlor.

The spacious room glowed under evenly spaced lights. At its center lay a beautiful carpet, elegantly embroidered with layered clouds. An exquisite black tea table and gray-and-white sofas sat upon it.

On the table, two ornate teacups—adorned with colorful paintings and golden filigree—emitted steady wisps of steam.

Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the garden’s night view stretched under streetlights. A crescent moon hung high in misty dark clouds, its soft glow spilling onto the outdoor sill.

“Huff~”

The guest in the parlor lifted a saucer with careful grace. She skimmed the black tea with the lid, blew gently, and took a small sip.

The water was scalding hot.

The maid had just served it.

It was her favorite blend.

“Lucy.”

“Speak your business or leave.”

“You didn’t come just for tea, did you?”

Mefia watched her sister ignore her completely, sipping tea at her leisure. Patience was not her strong suit.

Just moments ago, she’d been happily bathing and dressing Avril. This utterly detested sister had ruined her mood. No wonder her expression was icy.

“Oh.”

“Honestly.”

Lucy raised her head and set down the cup. Her lips curved slightly as her sweet, girlish voice chimed. She smiled at Mefia.

“I missed my sister, so I came to visit.”

“Who knew you’d be so unwelcoming~”

“Can’t I come without a reason?”

A hint of grievance colored her tone. She blinked her smiling eyes. Unlike Mefia, whose foul mood was plain, Lucy remained perfectly composed.

...

Disgust.

Repulsion.

These were Mefia’s only feelings.

She loathed her sister deeply. Lucy’s indifferent, affected attitude only deepened that revulsion.

But as Princesses of the Lor Empire, they couldn’t tear into each other openly.

Mefia knew not a shred of Lucy’s act was genuine.

To outsiders, it might seem like sisterly concern. But both knew better.

Lucy wasn’t naive Avril—pure-hearted and always truthful.

In Mefia’s eyes, her sister brimmed with malice.

Even if Lucy performed flawlessly, Mefia refused to play along in her own home.

She simply watched, waiting for the next trick.

Stay composed.

Whoever rushed first lost.

Lorin stood silently nearby, head bowed. If the Princesses commanded, she’d obey. Otherwise, she pretended not to exist.

She was long used to such scenes.

As Mefia’s personal maid, she’d seen nobility’s light and darkness, its clean and filthy sides.

Truth be told, the second Princess had a razor-sharp tongue.

In a verbal fight, Mefia might not win.

So she ignored Lucy’s irrelevant chatter.

Mefia didn’t believe Lucy came out of concern—or even just to annoy her.

There had to be a deeper purpose.

“Speak your business. It’s late.”

“I’m retiring.”

Mefia quelled her irritation. She wouldn’t show weakness before her sister.

Not when Lucy could weaponize it—or even just mock her.

She’d learned Lucy’s tongue well enough.

Since Lucy sought her out, Mefia wasted no time.

Surely, Lucy wouldn’t let herself be dismissed without revealing her aim.

“—Eh?”

“Sister, you’re such a bore.” Lucy sighed softly, a trace of grievance in her voice.

Mefia ignored her.

“Fine.”

“It’s just...”

Princess Lucy straightened her posture, done delaying. Yet she still drew it out, teasing Mefia’s patience.

“I heard...”

“Sister acquired a fine pet recently—from a slave merchant?”

“I wonder... is it true?”

Lucy’s soft voice landed. Mefia’s heart lurched.

!!!

Though phrased uncertainly, Lucy’s tone held absolute certainty.

It wasn’t a secret—but she’d brought Avril home barely two days ago. How did Lucy know?

Had news spread this fast?

Few should’ve known. Mefia took Avril directly from the merchant; no auction house was involved.

“Pet?”

“I’ve bought many lately. Which one do you mean?”

Though shocked inwardly, Mefia showed nothing. She sipped tea indifferently, voice casual.

“Your acting is poor, sister~”

“Maybe it fools your little pets.”

“But don’t waste it on me.”

Lucy tapped her crimson lips with slender fingers. She smiled gently, head tilted slightly, utterly unconvinced.

She mastered public performances. The sisters knew each other too well. With her gathered intel, Mefia’s bluff was useless.

...

Speechless.

If Lucy had accurate intel, denial was pointless.

Mefia only feared Lucy was bluffing.

If Lucy merely suspected, speaking would expose everything.

It wasn’t a dark secret—but Mefia truly didn’t want Lucy knowing.

This detestable person shared her... hobby.

“I heard it’s a cute little Bloodkin sister.”

Seeing Mefia silent, Lucy pressed on, thinking she still hoped to deceive.

Mefia ignored her, frowning deeply. Suspicion stirred in her chest.

Could it be...

Her mansion had a mole?