The moment Amelia’s voice rang out, Yifia felt as if an angel had descended.

Finally—help had arrived!!!

Relief washed over her. The tension melted from her body. She shot a haughty glance at the short noble and his two thugs, letting out an arrogant *hmph*. Every inch of her screamed borrowed confidence.

*Scum. Kneel and call me daddy.*

Seeing Yifia’s shift—from bluff to genuine certainty—the thugs’ faces paled. They knew: this time, they’d hit a real wall.

The short noble, however, wasn’t fooled. Skeptical, he turned to see who stood behind Yifia.

*Just a woman’s voice.*

*My father is an earl!*

As eldest son of House Grey, he—Xinqu Sen—would inherit the title. Earl Grey.

His dismissive gaze traveled upward: an exquisitely tailored black gown. Black silk gloves cradling a lavish swan-feather fan. A gold-threaded black lace choker, set with Westis Empire’s famed crimson blood diamond—yet all paled beside her violet eyes.

Staring at that stunning, icy face, Xinqu Sen’s breath caught.

*Her?!*

*The Duke’s daughter—Baron Amalia!*

Moments ago, he’d felt untouchable. Now, an invisible slap shattered his courage.

“L-Lady Barron… greetings.”

Gone was his arrogance. Voice trembling, he shrank inward. His face—already pale from the injured bird incident—turned ghostly. Cold sweat beaded his brow, but he dared not wipe it. Amelia’s silent, icy stare pressed down like stone. His forced smile cracked.

Beside him, the two thugs trembled violently. Even without knowing her rank, seeing an earl’s son nearly collapse spoke volumes.

“Yifia, my dear little bird, come here.”

Amelia ignored Xinqu Sen entirely. She turned to Yifia—face smug with triumph—softened her expression, and beckoned gently. The intimacy in gesture and tone proved everything.

*She truly had backing.*

Under their terrified stares, Yifia strode forward without hesitation, chin high, pride glowing. Mid-step, she flicked a gesture toward the short noble: thumb dragged sharply across her throat, tongue out in a playful “game over.”

(She angled her body carefully—Amelia mustn’t see. *Future best friend? Must keep the demure image.*)

Satisfied by the noble’s terrified grimace, Yifia lowered her hand with a pleased hum. She reached Amelia’s side and greeted the black cat meowing at her feet.

*Without that cat’s cry, I’d never have known she was here.*

“Amelia! Thank goodness—you saved me! They tried to bully me!”

Meeting Amelia’s gentle gaze, Yifia launched into complaint without shame.

*My patron’s here. Why hold back?*

She hadn’t forgotten his threats—*selling me to some filthy place?* Hmph. Let the fat bastard sweat.

“And he insulted me! Said he’d sell me!”

Amelia listened quietly. *Swish.* Her black fan unfolded. She fanned Yifia soothingly. As sweet fragrance calmed Yifia’s nerves, Amelia’s focus shifted—to trash disposal.

Her violet eyes: gentle, they were captivating gems. Sharp? Razor blades. No one dared meet them. Dread coiled deep.

Xinqu Sen felt it fully. He’d foolishly thought *just a commoner*—even if Lady Barron favored her, she wouldn’t act.

But witnessing that tenderness? He knew: *I’m finished.*

Unlike newly enrolled Yifia, Xinqu Sen knew Pris Academy’s hierarchy. Baron Amalia topped every list—even Prince Caroy ranked below.

In Westis politics, Duke Barren wielded real power, standing toe-to-toe with the king.

Baron Amalia? No pampered heir. As sole child, she’d trained since childhood for the dukedom.

No title yet—but none dared underestimate her.

*(That arranged marriage with the crown? Who knows…)*

Xinqu Sen’s face turned ash-gray. *If it were Prince Caroy… maybe hope. But Baron Amalia?*

“Grey Xinqu Sen,” Amelia said, voice light as silk. “Your family is finished.”

No flourish. One sentence—and a lineage erased from Westis history.

No one doubted her. The Duke’s daughter held that right.

Xinqu Sen collapsed. “Lady Barron, please—I can explain, I didn’t—”

“No need,” she cut in, cold. “Be grateful your vile scheme failed.”

She spared him no further glance. Taking Yifia’s hand, she turned away. Lunchtime waited. Insignificant people weren’t worth delay.

Yifia shot the noble one last regretful look. *Wanted to savor that fear longer… so satisfying!*

But between spectacle and lunch? Easy choice.

*Foodies gotta eat!*

“Amelia, I’m *so* grateful you came!”

“I’m glad I wasn’t late.”

“Never late! Hehe~ You were a hero descending! Look how he shook—*so* satisfying~ Wait… where’s the black cat?”

“Asmodeus? Not sure. Probably off playing somewhere.”

Their voices faded. Xinqu Sen remained crumpled. The thugs wiped sweat, vowing never to take such jobs again.

*Lucky we survived.*

“MEOOOW!!!”

A shrill cry sliced the air. They turned.

The black cat padded closer, wearing an eerie, heart-chilling smile. With each step, its form swelled…

“Poor little insects~” it purred. “Time to descend into hell~”