At this very moment,

an awkward tension hung in the main hall of House Faxius.

Hale watched Siman, who had rushed in from outside. Siman watched Hale.

Between them, Lorin clung pitifully to Hale’s chest, glancing up at him, then stealing wary looks at Siman.

Lorin had never liked Siman—she’d stolen too much of Hale’s time when Lorin was little.

Without this cousin, Hale would’ve had more moments with her.

And with their strained relationship these past years, Lorin felt Siman had wronged her brother.

*Why can’t she just stay away from him?*

“Hale… what are you doing?”

After a long, silent stare, Siman finally composed herself.

“Nothing. Lorin’s back from school break. We were just having dinner.”

No point hiding it.

Besides, Siman’s behavior lately had been odd. If things stayed distant, fine.

He almost hoped she’d misread the scene.

If she thought he was crossing a line with Lorin, she might “protect” Lorin by taking her to House Feng.

Perfect. Peace and quiet, restored.

“So,” Hale added lightly, “why are you here at this hour? Something wrong?”

“I came to…”

Siman had meant to say *deliver the map*. But seeing Lorin—clothes slightly disheveled, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes, clinging tightly to Hale—she pivoted.

“I heard Cousin Lorin returned. Came to keep an eye on you. Good thing I did. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?”

Hale didn’t correct her. He nudged her on. *Come on. Use one heroine to handle the other.*

“How dare you ask!” Siman’s voice tightened. “I won’t deny you’re capable. Popular with girls your age. But look at you now! Did you forget what I said? Don’t you dare—”

She shot Hale a resentful glare, then flicked her eyes to Lorin.

She might tolerate talk about Letitia… but Lorin was blood. Could Hale really…?

“Siman,” Hale slowed his tone. Setting his trump card.

“Hm? I’m talking about *you* and Lorin. Face it. She’s young. You should know better.”

Siman pressed on.

Hale simply said:

“Why must I listen to you?”

…

The words struck like thunder splitting the night sky. Siman froze, mind blank, reeling.

Hale watched her expression flicker—words caught in her throat. *If she gets angry, she’ll take Lorin. Exactly what I want.*

But after a long silence, Siman murmured:

“You shouldn’t indulge yourself too much…”

…

Siman stood at the doorway. Wind howled behind her.

Rain lashed down. Autumn chill bit deep.

Her parasol had barely shielded her.

*Before*, Hale saying that would’ve made her snap: *“If I don’t watch you, who will?”*

Now? She just felt tired.

Exhausted from wondering: *Did I overstep? Were the rumors true?*

She’d dug into the old accusations.

The first girl who called Hale a player vanished after reporting him—transferred, then erased. Even House Feng’s network found nothing. *Gone to another country?*

Saint Louis held the Western Continent’s finest schools. Why flee?

And the letters… a dozen girls? Half-hour visits daily? Impossible.

New accusations every two weeks for a year? Unlikely.

*Did he explain… and I refused to listen?*

Back then, rage drowned his words. Tea parties buzzed with gossip. Everyone believed it—so she did too.

One boy against an entire city’s judgment? Insignificant.

Guilt coiled tight. For a girl raised to be a knight, to join the Judgement Corps… this weight was crushing.

Seeing Lorin silently tighten her arms around Hale, eyes sharp with protectiveness…

*Am I meddling again?*

If she’d wronged him all this time… she was the villain.

Her voice softened.

Hale blinked. *Wait—I was counting on her to take this little love bomb back to House Feng.*

“This is my personal matter,” he said carefully.

Siman’s rain-dampened brows lifted slightly. No anger. Just a slow nod.

“Mm. But I’d still like a private talk with Cousin Lorin someday.”

“I refuse!” Lorin piped up. *No talks. Nope.* Her mind raced too.

Hale sighed inwardly. *In the game plot—Lorin’s route, Siman’s route—she’d storm in the second I crossed a line. Separating us was her ultimate move.*

But today? Her spirit was deflated.

“Let’s finish dinner,” he said.

…

After the meal, Siman left without lingering.

She left the map on a hall table—*Hale or a servant will find it.*

When Hale saw it, confusion deepened.

*Sun rising in the west?*

But gifts from Siman were never good news.

This usually happened *after* joining her team in her route—signaling tentative trust.

Useless trust. The system would likely flag his presence, spike event difficulty, and skyrocket his death rate.

*Nope.*

He’d head to the Demon God Labyrinth early Saturday morning. Treasure hunt, solo.

A man should treat himself well.