Inside the Dysshard Duke's mansion in Bern, Adrian stood by the window. Edwin entered the study, carrying a letter. He extended it to his master in a quiet voice:
"It's the reply… it contains the time and place of the meeting."
Adrian took the envelope without changing a single expression. He broke the seal, read it, then closed it coldly, lifting his gaze to Edwin.
"Reserve the entire location. Don't let anyone in… except those who carry our letter."
Edwin nodded respectfully, obedient. As he left to carry out his master's orders, fate quietly arranged a meeting from which there would be no return—between a man bound by hatred and a girl who had returned from death.
Nerys entered the luxurious café in the heart of the capital.
All she felt was the weight pressing down on her chest the closer she got to the door. The building was eerily quiet… a stillness that felt like the calm before something terrible.
She paused at the entrance for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm the erratic beating of her heart. She held the edge of her dress, as if to anchor herself in a world pulling her violently toward an unknown fate.
She opened the door.
Before her lay another world. The room was dimly lit, warm light spilling from golden lamps mounted along the walls. Polished white marble floors reflected the soft glow. The rich scent of the interior mixed subtly with the quiet aroma of incense.
The café was entirely reserved… empty. Except for one man standing at the entrance to guide her inside: Edwin.
He looked at her with a faint trace of surprise—as if a young girl's presence in a place fully booked for a dangerous meeting was almost unbelievable.
"Miss…" he said quietly, scanning the letter she had handed him. Then he bowed slightly.
"Please… follow me. The Duke awaits."
He led her down a slightly long corridor. Her footsteps were the only sound echoing through the empty space, reverberating off the walls, betraying her tension.
Inside, she recalled the moment she had promised herself to change her fate. She could not turn back now.
When Edwin's footsteps announced her arrival, Adrian slowly lifted his head to look at her.
He sat alone at a table, arms resting on the chair, one leg crossed over the other, his features… frighteningly calm.
And when he saw her—nothing changed on his face. Not a twitch of an eyebrow. But his eyes… they stopped on her. A long, silent gaze.
She felt as if the air around her had thickened, something pressing against her from within him, testing her, disrupting her breath.
She sat down stiffly, not daring to meet his eyes directly.
He spoke in a low, emotionless voice:
"Who are you?"
The tone alone made her heart skip. But she gathered her courage.
"I… am Nerys Holsten. Daughter of Marquis Holsten."
She paused, her breath growing heavier.
"I am the one who has been corresponding with you all these past years."
He raised his eyebrows slightly—a hint of surprise—but his calm expression did not falter.
"I did not expect that." He tilted his head. "And why… would Miss Holsten help me?"
She swallowed.
"Because… my father was involved in the case of your imprisonment. I know you already know that."
"And you think your help can fix your father's mistake?"
His silence was like a cold blade at her throat. His gaze… lethal, unshaken, unwavering.
"Your Grace…" she tried to defend herself.
"My father had nothing to do with the murder of the late Duke."
He did not reply. He simply continued to stare at her with absolute coldness. His calm… was worse than any threat, worse than anger, worse than anything she had ever faced before.
She had to finally meet his gaze. His eyes… unnervingly calm, almost inhuman. He was manipulating her with his silence alone.
She looked away immediately.
"What exactly do you expect from me… Your Grace?"
He uncrossed his legs slowly, leaned forward slightly. His voice came low, weighted enough to crush her spirit:
"I expected someone else. But your presence… is… interesting."
Her heart pounded violently.
"Your answer is not clear, Miss. Why… did you help me?"
She hesitated, palms sweating. Then she tried to steady herself:
"I want you… to spare my father's life. In exchange for helping you."
He lifted his gaze from her for a moment… then returned to look at her with an empty stare.
"A large request… for something worthless."
Frozen. Worthless? Seven whole years… of fear, of running, of sending information… had it all been meaningless? Her face went pale. Was she about to die again? Was he toying with her?
Why was he so disturbingly silent?
He said in a terrifyingly calm voice:
"The request is denied."
"Your Grace…" she spoke, voice trembling.
"I can be more useful than you imagine… I know a lot. The acquisition of Argos Shipping Company—I suggested this reason to you to increase liquidity for your railway project on the border."
She paused. Adrian looked at her… this time with sharper focus. He considered the information… this girl knew more than she should. She had been preparing for his plan seven years ago, even before he had conceived it—a thought that only crossed his mind during the war.
And when he leaned back slowly… she realized she had revealed more than necessary. He pondered how to extract everything he wanted without asking her directly.
Then he said:
"And why would I need your help, when I don't need it?"
He added, with killer coldness:
"I will transfer the shipping company to you… with all its profits. And we will end this cooperation here."
Her eyes widened. The ground seemed to tilt beneath her. Did he want to get rid of her? Did he… want to end everything? Would this be her end?
"Wait!" Her voice trembled.
"I… know the future."
Adrian raised an eyebrow and lifted his eyes to hers—but this time, a faint gray glimmer appeared in them.
"And you expect me to believe this?"
She said, desperate but determined:
"I can prove it. The war and the railway project—these are not all I know."
Adrian asked quietly:
"Like what?"
"There will soon be a social scandal. Count Rosarin's daughter will be involved in an illicit relationship with a merchant's son."
She finished the sentence quickly, before fear could overcome her. Adrian did not blink. Then he said, dryly:
"How do you know this, Miss? Surely you are not a witch. Because if you were, I would personally hand you over to the Emperor."
Answering him… was harder than facing her previous death.
"I… am living my second life now."
He raised an eyebrow, amused:
"Second life? The young lady continues to surprise me with strange words… so you have returned to our world… Come now, tell me—when will the Emperor die?"
"I do not know."
"How so?"
"Because… I died before him."
Adrian raised an eyebrow again, asking:
"And how did you die before him?"
She lifted her head slowly… as if dragging her soul with her.
"You killed me."
Silence… fell over the table like a stone dropped into a deep well. He stared at her for a long moment. Then said:
"That is strange. Why would I kill you? Did you do something unusual in your previous life?"
Her hand stiffened.
"No. I never saw you before. I was going to my father's office… and found you there. You turned to me… and then killed me with cold blood, Your Grace."
Adrian folded his arms quietly, as if seriously considering this time.
"I have one question… that will determine whether I believe you or not." He slowly raised his gaze.
"What weapon did you use?"
Pure terror surged through her body. Nerys went silent, realizing how foolish she had been. He had given her a chance to survive—but she hadn't taken it. She should have ignored it. She only had to avoid entering her father's office that day, and she would have lived. But why had she thrown herself in front of this man so recklessly?
"A… dagger."
He tilted his head slightly, speaking in a low, near-whisper:
"Then… I must have stabbed your neck."
Her eyes widened. Air vanished around her; her face drained of color. She nearly fainted. Edwin stepped forward nervously, offering her a glass of water.
Adrian spoke in killer coldness:
"It is the fastest way to die. I took pity on you, Miss… I did not wish you to suffer."
"You… monster." The word slipped from her lips before she could stop it.
He smiled—a short, still, dangerous smile. Then suddenly stood. His steps were slow… heavy… each one seeming to draw the air from around her. He approached, and the scent of his subtle cologne—mingled with the room's aroma—flooded her senses.
She lifted her head with difficulty, her breaths uneven, her heart hammering in terror.
He stopped directly in front of her.
"I will cooperate with you, Miss Nerys."
She stared at him, shocked.
"But… under my terms only."
He lowered his voice until it was almost a whisper:
"And I will spare your life. As for your father… I will consider his fate."
He extended his hand slightly, signaling to Edwin:
"My personal aide will accompany you to your mansion."
Then he added… in a heavy tone, carrying both promise and threat:
"I hope… for good cooperation between us."