The pressure was still there.
A physical weight. Crushing. Suffocating.
Roland didn't move.
He just stood there.
"You are my son!" Valerius roared.
"My blood! How can you do this! If word of this gets out... it will be bad for you too! The shame will stain us all!"
'A threat. A pathetic, empty threat.'
Roland's face was a mask. Devoid of expression.
"And you," he replied, his voice flat, "would send your son to the Northern Reaches to die?"
The words were quiet. They were not a shout.
They were a simple, cold question.
And they were more effective than any magical pressure.
Valerius choked.
He literally choked on his own rage.
He had no answer.
The pressure vanished.
It didn't fade. It shattered. The heavy, suffocating weight in the room was just... gone.
The Earl's face changed. The apoplectic rage collapsed. It was replaced by... calculation. By bargaining.
He really couldn't do much about Roland, after all, he was still his son, at least in name.
"Roland," he tried. A different approach. The reasonable father. Coaxing.
"I can give you more gold. Another three hundred. Five hundred! Think of what you can buy. Supplies. Mercenaries. You'll need them."
He leaned forward. A look of false sincerity.
"Besides. That Awakening Stone... it's useless in your hands. You are just an ordinary person. A zero. It won't do anything for you. It's a waste."
Roland didn't move.
"Father."
"..."
"I only want the Awakening Stone."
The silence in the hall was absolute.
Valerius stared at him. He was seeing his son for the first time.
And he hated what he saw.
A long, heavy silence.
The Earl looked away. He stared at the battle-worn tapestry.
"Fine."
The word was poison in his mouth.
"When you depart tomorrow morning, I will give it to you."
His eyes snapped back.
"But this secret... this filth... you will take it to your grave."
It was an order.
Roland saw the look in his father's eyes.
He wasn't just angry. He was calculating.
He wasn't worried.
After all Roland would head to Northern Reaches, and most likely, he would die.
'He thinks I'm going to die.'
'He's wrong.'
Roland nodded.
He turned and walked out of the hall.
He didn't look back.
...
Violette awoke.
The first sensation: Softness.
She was... sinking.
She opened her eyes.
A ceiling. High. Carved wood.
Outside a window, the sky was dark. Night.
Where...
She looked down.
She was on a bed. A massive, impossibly comfortable bed.
The sheets... they were like spun air.
She was wearing... a dress. A clean dress. Simple, but clean.
She looked at her hands.
The grime was gone. The filth caked under her nails... gone.
She was clean.
She was... warm.
It was the first time in her life. She never knew.
She never knew a bed could be this soft. She never knew fabric could feel like a kiss against her skin.
'This is... a dream. It has to be.'
'This is what heaven is like.'
Then, the confusion. The fear.
'Why?'
'Why am I here?'
'Why would Lord Roland save me?'
'For... that? sex?'
She'd seen it. In the alleys. Men who wanted things. Men who took things.
But... no.
'No, it couldn't be.'
'I'm ugly. I'm trash.'
'Why would a high noble son... be interested in... me?'
It didn't make sense. None of it.
Click.
The door opened.
Roland walked in.
She scrambled off the bed. She fell. The soft rug was a shock. She got to her feet.
She bowed. A deep, flustered bow, her whole body trembling.
"My... My Lord..."
She didn't dare look at him.
Roland just gestured for her to sit. On the bed.
She flinched, but didn't move.
'She's terrified.' Roland thought.
'She thinks I'm going to hurt her.'
He almost laughed.
'My future. My survival. It might depend on this girl.'
He looked at her.
Now that she was clean... she really was a beauty.
Or she would be.
Delicate features. A small, sharp chin. And those striking, impossible blue eyes.
She was just... too thin.
The door opened again.
Anna. His maid.
She led a group of servants. They carried trays.
The smell of roasted meat. Of fresh bread.
It filled the room.
Violette's stomach let out a loud, painful growl. She clutched it, her face burning with shame.
The servants laid out a full dinner on the table.
Anna shooed them out.
She leaned in close to Roland.
She whispered.
"My Lord. She is still a virgin. I've... checked."
Roland froze.
'What.'
'You... checked?'
He didn't know what to say.
'This is what they think? That I saved her for... that?'
'oh my god.'
He turned to Anna. He changed the subject.
"Anna."
"My Lord?"
"Are you willing to come with me to the Northern Reaches?"
She didn't hesitate. Not for a second.
"Wherever you go, My Lord, I will go."
Roland nodded.
He needed capable people. People he could trust.
Anna was competent. Smart. Loyal.
She could be his steward in the North.
For the first time... he had some confidence.
He could survive this.
'I have to survive.'
'If for no other reason... I have the System.'
"Sit," Roland said. To both of them.
Anna sat. This wasn't the first time. She had often shared simple meals with him.
Violette, however, froze on the spot.
Her eyes were wide with utter disbelief.
'What... what did I just hear?'
'Did Lord Roland just tell... ME... to sit?'
'At the same table?'
She stared at the fine dishes. The roasted chicken. The steaming bread.
She swallowed. Hard.
But she instinctively refused.
"I... I can just have some bread, My Lord. I can... I can eat on the floor..."
Roland sighed.
He stood up. He walked over. He grabbed her by the arm.
Gently.
She flinched, expecting a blow.
It didn't come.
He pulled her to the table. He sat her down in the chair.
A slight smile on his face.
"This was all prepared for you. Eat."
She stared at him, terrified.
"Eat as much as you can. If you don't, I'll have to punish you."
It was a joke.
She didn't know that.
She obeyed.
Her hand trembled.
She picked up a piece of bread. She tore off a tiny piece. She put it in her mouth.
Her eyes widened.
It was... warm. It was soft. It tasted...
She picked up a piece of chicken.
The explosion of flavor.
Salt. Herbs. Fat.
It was... heaven.
She hadn't eaten in two days.
She began to eat. Not fast. Desperately.
The warmth slid down her throat. It hit her empty stomach.
Tears welled in her eyes.
They streamed down her face.
She didn't make a sound. She just... cried. And ate.
She looked at Roland.
Her eyes... they were overflowing with gratitude.
This man... he had saved her. He had cleaned her. He had given her... food.
He had treated her... like a real person. Not an animal.
At that moment, the System panel flashed in Roland's vision.
[Loyalty: 83]
'Eighty.'
'That's high.'
The System note updated.
(At this level, she will basically never betray you.)
Roland nodded.
'Good. That's a start.'