The next day passed quietly.
Miller had already left early in the morning with five of his soldiers on a mission, leaving the mansion unusually calm. Without his presence, the atmosphere felt different—less rigid, but less controlled.
By evening, that difference became visible.
A knock came on Kael's door.
He opened it.
Misty stood there.
She looked different. Not overly dressed, but there was effort. More aware of how she appeared than usual.
"It's my birthday," she said casually, like it didn't matter.
A short pause.
"There's a party tonight. You should come."
Kael looked at her for a moment.
"Alright."
Simple. Natural.
No distance.
Misty blinked slightly.
That wasn't what she expected.
"Be there on time," she said, trying to keep her tone steady.
Kael nodded.
"I will."
Then he added, calmly, "Happy birthday."
Before she could respond—
he closed the door.
Misty stood there for a second.
Confused.
Irritated.
She couldn't read him.
Was he avoiding her?
Was he being polite?
Or did he just not care?
She clicked her tongue and walked away, more annoyed than she wanted to admit.
Night came.
The mansion shifted.
Lights filled the hall. Music played softly. Voices echoed through the space.
It wasn't a large gathering—just the people inside the estate.
Controlled. Private.
Misty stood at the center as the cake was brought out.
Silvi stood beside her.
Tom, Henry, and two others were there.
"Where's the rest?" someone asked.
"On a mission with the commander," Silvi replied.
Misty didn't react much.
"Let's just do it."
She cut the cake.
No big celebration.
Just enough.
Kael arrived shortly after.
Quiet.
Unnoticed at first.
Then Silvi saw him.
"You came," she said, walking toward him.
"I said I would."
She smiled faintly.
"Come, I'll introduce you."
She pointed one by one.
"Tom. Henry."
They nodded.
"The rest are out."
Kael acknowledged them briefly.
No extra words.
No effort to impress.
Just calm presence.
Food was served.
Drinks followed.
The atmosphere loosened.
People started talking louder. Laughing more.
But Kael remained the same.
He didn't touch the drinks.
Not even once.
Misty noticed.
Of course she did.
"You're not drinking?" she asked, stepping closer.
"I don't drink," Kael replied.
Simple.
That irritated her.
"It's a party," she said.
Kael didn't respond.
Silvi, already a little drunk, joined in.
"Come on," she said, holding a glass toward him. "Just one."
Kael shook his head.
"No."
Misty smirked slightly.
"You don't swim… you don't drink…"
She tilted her head.
"What kind of spy are you?"
Kael looked at her.
"The kind that stays in control."
Silvi laughed.
Misty didn't.
She stepped closer and held a glass directly toward him.
"Drink."
Kael didn't move.
Didn't take it.
Just looked at her.
Calm.
That made it worse.
Silvi tried again, lightly pushing the glass toward him.
"Just a little."
Kael stepped back slightly.
"Not interested."
Misty's expression changed.
Not fully angry.
But close.
No one refused her like this.
Not repeatedly.
Not in front of others.
But Kael didn't adjust.
Didn't soften.
Didn't explain.
He remained exactly the same.
Untouched.
Misty slowly lowered the glass.
Her eyes stayed on him.
Trying to understand.
Trying to read.
But getting nothing.
And that frustration grew.
Because for the first time—
she couldn't control the situation.
And he wasn't even trying to control it.
Which made it worse.