Reminiscing his encounter with Azalea, Orion stood frozen, his face contorted with disbelief as her words echoed again in his mind. Her answer to the chieftain's question still resounded in his ears, leaving him utterly baffled and at a complete loss for words.
"I take that look of yours as an admittance of guilt," the chieftain sneered, his voice slicing through the heavy silence that filled the hall.
"Huh?" Orion blinked rapidly, too distracted by confusion to fully register the statement. When the words finally sank in, his eyes shot wide open, and he blurted out in shock, "What? Guilt?! Me?!"
Immediately, the chieftain's expression darkened. His brows drew together, forming a sharp ridge across his forehead.
"Obviously, you've been caught. Your own reaction gave you away, so why are you suddenly trying to protest?" The chieftain's tone carried the weight of accusation and authority.
Orion frowned, a flicker of frustration rising inside him.
"But I am not guilty!" he argued, swinging his arm to the right in disbelief. "You just threw an outlandish accusation at me, and it's only natural that I'd react with surprise!"
"I may show favoritism toward your household because of the history I share with your father," the chieftain said sternly, leaning forward in his seat, "but do not mistake my lenience for weakness, child. You clearly know my daughter. Your earlier reaction when her name was mentioned exposed that much. And now that my Azalea has revealed that you are the one who took her innocence away, you dare pretend it's new information to you?" His tone turned venomous as he added, "And for goodness' sake, someone please take that filthy cloth off his face."
"Sure thing, Chieftain," Xander replied with a smug grin. He glanced sideways at Samuel and gave a slight nod of command.
Samuel stepped even closer to Orion, grabbed the edge of his makeshift mask, and pulled it down once again, exposing Orion's full face to the chieftain, Azalea, and the maidservant present in the room.
The moment his features came into view, Azalea's eyes widened slightly, a subtle change in her expression betraying her surprise. Her lips parted, and for a fleeting moment, she looked almost mesmerized.
Despite the roughness of his living conditions, Orion possessed strikingly handsome features. It wasn't the pampered beauty of nobles, but something raw, carved from hardship — the kind that drew eyes even without effort.
In town, people often referred to him and Eden as the Coin Twins, not because they were brothers by adoption, but because both were considered equally attractive but on opposite spectrums as like the two sides of the same coin.
While Orion had the sculpted, masculine good looks of a prince from a forgotten legend, Eden's beauty leaned toward gentleness — soft, almost angelic. Orion's curly black hair framed his face like dark fire, contrasting vividly with his piercing blue-gray eyes that seemed to hold the weight of unspoken storms. Eden, on the other hand, had straight blonde hair and serene ocean-blue eyes that carried calmness instead of fire.
In their humble fishing town, the two of them stood out like misplaced nobles among commoners.
A faint blush crept across Azalea's cheeks as she stared at Orion's face longer than she intended. Her heart fluttered in confusion — a reaction she hadn't expected to feel at a time like this.
Her maidservant, standing dutifully at her side, noticed the change almost immediately. Interpreting the moment through the wrong lens, the maid's face twisted in disgust. To her, it looked as though her mistress's flustered reaction confirmed the scandalous accusations against Orion.
The maid's disapproval deepened when she saw Azalea lower her gaze, as if embarrassed to keep looking at him. What she didn't know, however, was that Azalea wasn't blushing out of romantic shame—she was lowering her head because she had just lied about Orion to protect someone else—Xander, who was standing right there in the same room with them. To the maidservant, however, it appeared to be the gesture of a guilty young woman ashamed of the boy who had "seduced" her.
Clenching her jaw, the maid smacked her tongue in irritation and folded her arms, resisting the urge to lash out. If only she had the authority to speak her mind— she felt bitterly.
The chieftain groaned in disgust, snapping the tension like a whip. "Now I finally see what you look like," he said, studying Orion with sharp, judging eyes. "I can tell just from your demeanor— you're used to charming women. You have that smugness about you. I'm curious, then, about the mountain of lies you must've told my innocent daughter to convince her to let you commit such a disgraceful act."
Orion, feeling the pressure closing in now that his mask was off, and he was on the clock before his reaction to the oxygen levels in the air started up again, shook his head rapidly. "I think there's a massive misunderstanding here, Chieftain."
"Misunderstanding?" The chieftain's frown deepened, his tone heavy with disbelief.
"Yes," Orion said firmly, though his heart raced. "I don't know who your daughter is mistaking me for, but I swear I wasn't the one who did what you're accusing me of. How could I have been, when I'm still a virgin myself—"
"Are you calling my daughter a liar?!" the chieftain thundered, slamming his hand against the armrest of his chair. The booming sound echoed through the room.
Orion's eyes widened. He realized too late that his choice of words had only worsened his situation.
"No, not at all, Chieftain!" he quickly stammered, raising his hands defensively. "I'm not calling her a liar! I'm just saying she might be mistaken — maybe she saw someone else who looks like me! But I swear on everything I hold dear that I'm innocent!"
A heavy silence followed. The room grew so still that the faint grinding of the chieftain's teeth could be heard. His glare was sharp enough to pierce through skin.
"How insulting," the chieftain finally said in a low, simmering tone. His words carried venom, each one cutting deeper than the last. "You stand before me — in a room that's within my own home— and dare suggest that my daughter is so carefree with her body that she wouldn't recognize the only man she has ever been intimate with? That your shocked reaction earlier was pure coincidence?"
He leaned forward, eyes burning into Orion. "You forget, boy — I saw the look on your face when you saw Azalea. You don't make that kind of face for someone you barely know. If that wasn't guilt, then what was it?"
All eyes in the room turned to Orion. The air felt suffocating with tension. Even Samuel shifted uncomfortably, sensing the weight of the chieftain's anger.
Xander, meanwhile, leaned back slightly, a sly grin curving his lips. Everything was unfolding exactly as he wanted. Who would've guessed that Orion actually did know Azalea? That little connection made him the perfect scapegoat. Xander, of course, knew the truth — he was the one who had truly taken Azalea's innocence — but watching Orion sink deeper into the pit amused him.
That was what Orion got for stealing from him and making him look like a fool… Xander felt.
Still, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of curiosity. What exactly was the connection between those two? he wondered. Whatever it was, he was determined to let Orion's explanation dig him deeper into trouble.
Orion swallowed hard, realizing silence would only make him look guiltier. He straightened his posture and met the chieftain's glare.
"You're right, Chieftain," he admitted, his voice calm but steady. "I do have some kind of connection with your daughter. But not in the way you're thinking. I didn't even know she was your daughter until today, which is why I was so shocked earlier."
The chieftain narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced but interested enough to listen. He leaned back slightly, waiting.
"You see," Orion continued, his voice softening as he recalled the memory, "Exactly one week ago, I was wandering around this general area. I'd been searching for a solution to a health problem I was having at the time — something that was making it hard for me to breathe properly. While I was there, I suddenly heard someone screaming in distress."
He paused, glancing briefly at Azalea, who was now fidgeting nervously as she stood.
"Concerned about what was happening," Orion went on, "I ran toward the sound — and that's when I saw her… Azalea, your daughter. She was at the edge of a stream, cornered by a snake that was about to strike."
"Cornered by a what?!" the chieftain barked, jolting upright in his chair.
"A snake," Orion repeated, nodding. "A large one, coiled near her body. She was terrified. If I hadn't shown up when I did, it could have bitten her."
Azalea's head dipped lower. The nervous expression on her face deepened. She clearly didn't want Orion to reveal the full story — perhaps because she wasn't supposed to be anywhere near that part of town that day. Her lips trembled as she clenched her fists beside her body, silently praying that Orion would choose his next words carefully.