"Let her in."
Olivia pushed the door open, her voice calm but carrying weight.
"Duchess of Locran greets His Highness, the Crown Prince."
Kyle returned her greeting with a warm smile, motioning toward a nearby chair.
"Welcome, Duchess. Please, have a seat."
He turned back to his assistant and added, "Grant us some privacy, please."
The staff promptly exited, leaving the siblings alone in a charged silence.
"So, my dear sister," Kyle began, his tone expectant, "have you found a solution to the problem?"
Olivia's gaze hardened, and her voice turned sharp.
"If you insist on treating me like your sister, don't speak to me from behind your desk, Your Highness."
Kyle stiffened at her words, immediately understanding their implication. The desk wasn't just furniture—it was a symbol of his authority and their societal divide. Rising quickly, he moved from behind it and sat across from her, hoping to ease the tension.
Olivia's expression softened slightly but retained a guarded edge. Before she could continue, a knock on the door interrupted them.
"Your Highness," a servant called hesitantly from the other side, "forgive the intrusion."
Kyle's irritation was evident as he responded curtly.
"I gave orders that we were not to be disturbed. Did you not hear me?"
The servant stammered, "I know, Your Highness, but… Her Majesty the Empress is here."
Without waiting for an invitation, the Empress swept into the room, her presence commanding. She strode over to Kyle and enveloped him in a tight embrace.
"Kael, my little one, how are you?"
Kyle wriggled slightly in her arms, his voice tinged with embarrassment.
"Mother, you're suffocating me. You returned early from your outing."
She smiled fondly.
"I came back just to see you."
Finally releasing him, she turned her attention to Olivia.
"Oh, Duchess of Locran, you're here as well."
Olivia inclined her head respectfully.
"The Duchess greets Her Majesty. How are you?"
"I'm well," the Empress replied graciously.
Then, turning back to Kyle, she said, "I'll leave you now. It seems you have guests."
Kyle nodded briefly.
"Thank you, Mother."
As the Empress left, the atmosphere in the room grew heavy once more. After a moment of silence, Olivia broke it with unexpected resolve.
"Kyle, you need to tell Mathias the truth."
Kyle froze, his eyes widening. He swallowed hard before responding.
"Tell Mathias? That's madness."
"No," Olivia countered sharply. "Madness is what you and Leila have done. It's time to face reality."
Kyle leaned back, shaking his head in protest.
"But—"
She cut him off firmly.
"No excuses. You must tell him, and you must also face Leila. Do you understand?"
Kyle's voice wavered.
"It's impossible."
Her expression turned steely.
"What's impossible?"
He hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper.
"After everything that's happened, I can't face her. I don't even know where to start."
Olivia's tone softened, but her words remained unyielding.
"You start with the truth. This morning, I received notice of a trial. It seems he bribed someone to expedite the case."
Kyle's face turned pale.
"A trial? What… what will you do?"
Olivia leaned back in her chair, her demeanor calm but resolute.
"Me? It's not my fight. I can deny everything. I have witnesses to prove he attacked me. But Leila… she's another story. The trial includes accusations of adultery and bearing a child that doesn't resemble him or his lineage."
Kyle's face turned red with anger.
"Adultery? She's not even his wife! How dare he accuse her of that?"
Olivia's voice remained level.
"That's not what the records say. According to official documents, she is his wife—not yours."
Kyle's eyes widened in disbelief, his hands clutching the arms of his chair.
"How… how did he manage that?"
A sardonic smile played on Olivia's lips.
"Money, dear brother. You married her in a poor border village. Do you think any official there would refuse a bribe to alter the records?"
Kyle buried his face in his hands, his voice laced with desperation.
"So, what do we do now?"
Olivia stood, her movements deliberate.
"I'll come up with a solution. But you, Kyle, need to tell Mathias. Soon. I only came to inform you. Now, I must return home."
She turned to leave, but Kyle gently grabbed her wrist, his voice filled with a quiet plea.
"Olivia, why not stay for dinner?"
She paused for a moment, her eyes wide with surprise. It had been so long since he'd called her by her first name like that. Quickly regaining her composure, she responded with a calm, measured tone.
"No, thank you. There's no need."
He pressed, trying to convince her.
"Our mother would be happy if you stayed."
At the mention of "our mother," Olivia's expression shifted to one of clear annoyance. Her voice became sharp.
"She's not my mother."
The smile faded from Kyle's face, and his tone shifted, a mixture of confusion and anxiety creeping in.
"What do you mean, she's not your mother?"
Olivia met his gaze coldly and responded flatly.
"As I said, she's not my mother."
Kyle's voice rose, filled with a mix of anger and disbelief.
"Have you lost your mind? She gave birth to you! Have you forgotten that?"
She answered him coolly, but with unwavering firmness.
"I haven't forgotten, but a biological incident doesn't make her my mother."
Before she could interrupt, his words cut through the air like a blade.
"Why are you speaking like this? She is your mother."
Her voice trembled with determination.
"Kyle, she is your mother, not mine."
He tried to respond, but Olivia raised her hand to stop him. Her voice was steady, but her words held a weight that couldn't be ignored.
"Let me finish. Kyle, she is your mother, not mine. When she enters, you embrace her warmly, while I kneel in respect. When she calls you 'Kai,' she addresses me as 'Duchess of Locran' or by my formal name tied to my father. She's never called me by my first name, let alone a term of endearment. So please, allow me to leave. I can't stay here for another second."
Kyle fell silent, unable to respond. Every word she spoke was an undeniable truth he couldn't refute.
He asked in a barely audible whisper.
"So… should I escort you to the carriage?"
She shook her head gently, her voice resolute.
"No, thank you. I know the way."
Without another word, Olivia walked briskly toward the carriage, not looking back. She climbed in and settled into her seat, trying to maintain an air of calm.
She muttered softly to herself, barely a whisper.
"Good thing he didn't notice my hands trembling. I said I didn't care, but my body always betrays me.
The carriage finally arrived at its destination, t that stretched like a black veil over the horizon. The cold wind whispered through the darkened trees, carrying secrets as if delivering messages from another world. Olivia stepped down with heavy steps, wrapped in a cloak of exhaustion and sorrow, her very presence mirroring the somber ambiance around her.
The butler stood at the door, his expression as composed as ever. With a disciplined bow, he greeted her:
"Madam, welcome back. Shall I prepare your dinner?"
Her voice, soft and almost lost in the breeze, replied:
"No, thank you. I'm not hungry."
She entered the house, the echo of her steady footsteps filling the quiet corridors. The walls seemed to close in on her, their silence heavy with unspoken thoughts. She headed straight to her room, but her movement was arrested by an unexpected sound—a sharp, relentless cry piercing the stillness, coming from Lila's room. A wave of concern swept through her.
"What's that sound?" she murmured to herself. "It must be Lila's child. Why doesn't she stop crying? Is something wrong?"