"Good morning, Master Derek."

Teresia approached Derek after getting out of bed, greeting him warmly.

Perhaps due to Xinzel’s strict etiquette training, she gave a slight bow as she spoke.

Her thin nightgown fluttered in the morning breeze, sunlight streaming through the window to trace the gentle curves beneath the fabric.

"Go tidy yourself up and get dressed," Derek said firmly. He couldn’t stay near Teresia any longer. The Holy Lady was becoming dangerously alluring—he’d lose his mind if this continued.

*Stay calm. Don’t let Teresia cloud your judgment.*

He’d endured so much to deceive Duke Wudewen. Now, he needed to check for oversights. His gaze swept the room, lingering on the bed—then he remembered.

Teresia had just finished dressing when Derek called out, "Teresia, fetch Xinzel for me."

Though puzzled by the early summons, she obeyed without question.

"Master Derek, you called?" Xinzel arrived moments later.

"Yes. I have a task for you."

"Your command?"

"Take these bedsheets away. Destroy them discreetly. Then have the servants replace them with fresh ones."

Xinzel frowned slightly, glancing at the immaculate sheets. After a pause, his respect for Derek deepened.

*So this is the price he paid to save Teresia from the Duke’s wrath.*

He’d assumed Derek would claim his due last night. Yet the Holy Maiden remained chaste—and Derek’s restraint proved his iron will.

*But why is a ten-year-old so adept at covering tracks?*

Xinzel dismissed the thought. *Of course the master plans meticulously.*

He gathered the sheets silently, ensuring no trace remained.

...

"Why destroy the sheets, Master Derek?" Teresia asked once Xinzel left.

Derek couldn’t explain to this naive girl. Last night had confirmed she knew nothing of intimacy. *Kana’s too busy surviving to teach her such things.* He just hoped she wouldn’t resent him later.

"They reek of your sweat," he brushed her off.

*Sweat?!* Her cheeks flushed crimson. She lifted her arm and sniffed it earnestly—but detected nothing. Determined to prove her innocence, she lunged at Derek. "I don’t stink! Smell properly!"

*Good heavens—does this girl have no sense of modesty?!* Panic surged as she pressed against him. "Absolutely not."

"But just one sniff! I bathed before coming here last night!"

*Shameless Holy Maiden—what is she even saying?!*

"Master Derek, please—" She leaned closer.

*Stop pressing against me!* Derek’s resolve frayed. *One more nudge and I’ll call the guards to arrest me!*

Their tussle grew heated—until a cough echoed from the doorway.

"*Ahem.* Apologies for the intrusion, Master Derek. No one delivered your breakfast, so I brought it myself."

Teresia instantly straightened, mortified at the thought of others hearing she "stank." Derek exhaled in relief—then froze.

The speaker was Yeger, the head chef. A "Gourmet" of the Witch Cult. A cannibalistic monster.

"Thank you for your trouble."

"My honor to serve. Though... your appetite seems to have grown lately."

The girl who devoured his meals stiffened beside him. Derek covered smoothly, "I’m still growing."

"Indeed. I’ll prepare heartier dishes to nourish you."

Teresia’s stomach growled audibly.

"Leave the cart here. Teresia will handle the rest. You may go."

"Of course. I’ll adjust the menu to better fortify you, Master Derek." Yeger’s gaze flicked to the bare bed, then Teresia, his smile turning knowing.

The moment the door closed, Teresia abandoned all pretense.

"Yay! Time to eat!"

*Sweat? Smells?*

Who cared when breakfast awaited?

...

Derek slumped after Yeger left. *If I fooled him, the Duke won’t suspect anything.*

But this life exhausted him. Every moment under Duke Wudewen’s roof demanded vigilance. Yeger’s unpredictable appearances frayed his nerves. Xinzel was an ally—but had his own limits. And Teresia? *Just don’t cause trouble, Holy Maiden.*

He longed to escape the manor. Yet no opportunity arose.

A week later, a snow-white pigeon from the north landed on the terrace railing, folding its wings like a silent omen.