Eilika quietly left Damian’s study without arguing. She hadn’t exactly told him a lie, as she truly had run into Romy on her way back, but the tension in the room troubled her.

’His anger didn’t seem to be about my absence,’ she mused. ’Something happened while I was away, something he is choosing to hide from me again.’

Lost in thought, she found herself in front of Roman’s chamber. Inside, the young master was in the middle of a tantrum, stubbornly refusing his afternoon snack.

"I will only eat them if my mama feeds me!" he announced, crossing his arms over his chest with a defiant pout.

The maids looked up in relief as Eilika entered the room. Seeing her son’s stubborn face, a smile finally broke through her worry. She reached for the bowl of sliced fruit, gesturing for the servants to give them a moment alone.

"Mama, where were you? Father was also looking for you," Roman stated, his pout softening the moment she sat beside him.

"I had to step out to meet an old friend," Eilika answered, bringing a sliced apple to his mouth with a fork. Roman took the bite and chewed thoughtfully before looking up at her.

"I also want to meet your friend."

She smiled gently and nodded. "Of course. Perhaps one day soon. For now, tell me, did you like your dress for tomorrow?"

"Yes." Roman’s focus shifted entirely to the bowl of fruit, his appetite returning now that she was the one feeding him. He leaned into her side, momentarily forgetting his earlier stubbornness as she continued to offer him the small pieces of apple.

’How am I supposed to get past Damian’s cold aura?’ Eilika wondered. ’He refuses to share his burdens with me, yet if I press him, he will only grow annoyed. He must understand that I am worried too.’

"Roman."

Damian’s voice echoed through the chamber. Eilika turned her head as Roman quickly scrambled to his feet to bow to his father.

"Can I borrow your mother?" Damian inquired, his gaze fixed on Eilika.

"Why? Mama is feeding me fruits," Roman countered, holding his ground with a small frown.

"Your mama needs to oversee the preparations for tomorrow. And I suppose you are a big enough boy to eat on your own now. You cannot trouble her with every small task," Damian explained, keeping his tone as soft and patient as possible for the child’s sake.

Roman looked at the bowl and then at Eilika, eventually nodding in reluctant agreement. Damian stepped aside, waiting for Eilika to rise and follow him out of the room.

And when she did, he led the way.

"What preparations do I have to look into?" she asked, increasing her pace to match his long strides.

"Forgive me for raising my voice like that," Damian apologized, his eyes fixed on the hallway ahead rather than her face.

"What if I choose not to forgive you?" She turned her head, searching his expression for a sign of what had changed.

"I will accept your decision," Damian stated, his voice devoid of its usual sharp edge. "And I will keep apologizing until you do forgive me."

"Why do you make mistakes that require apologies in the first place?" Eilika mumbled, her voice tinged with frustration. "You still cannot bring yourself to share your worries with me. It feels foreign, sometimes, to realize I don’t truly understand the man I married."

"That fault lies with me," he admitted. "I wanted to ask you... have you ever dealt with betrayal from someone very close to you?"

She halted a step ahead of him. Noticing her sudden stop, he paused as well.

"Who betrayed you?" Eilika asked, her brow furrowing with concern.

"Just answer the question," Damian insisted, his voice firm yet strained.

"If you cannot be honest with me, how am I supposed to give you a real answer?" she countered.

"I am asking for a friend," he lied, looking away. "You don’t know them."

"You wouldn’t want to believe it," she replied promptly. "At first, you would deny it. You would look for every possible excuse to prove they are innocent, because the alternative, that someone you loved or trusted could hurt you so deeply, is far too painful to accept."

Damian nodded slowly, but the silence between them stretched thin.

"What is bothering you? You are asking this for yourself, aren’t you?" she asked, searching his face, hoping he would finally allow her to see past his armor.

"I will tell you once I have found enough evidence of the betrayal," he replied. It was the first time he hadn’t completely shut her out, and the response brought a flicker of calm to her. At the very least, he was willing to admit there was a burden to share.

"Alright. I will wait," Eilika answered softly. She then held his hand, making him look at her.

"Everything will be fine, Damian. You will feel joy again, in time. I trust in my own strength and in the God who has always watched over me," she affirmed.

Damian couldn’t fathom the true depth behind her words. After everything he had learned, the very concept of trust felt a dangerous thing. He was terrified of being vulnerable again, yet as he looked at her, he realized Eilika was the only person left in this world he truly wanted to lean on.

"Here you are!" Sylvian exclaimed as he ran toward them.

Damian pulled back his hand, the momentary connection with Eilika severed. He turned to Sylvian, his expression shifting back to its usual mask of stoic authority. "What happened?"

"Um... Henry is here. He wants to see you," Sylvian answered, slightly out of breath. He glanced briefly at Eilika, who offered him a small, knowing nod, though her mind was already racing with the implications.

Damian furrowed his brows, a surge of tension tightening his chest. Why would his father-in-law come here now? Years had passed in icy silence, with Henry refusing to set foot in the mansion since Liliana’s funeral.

"Where is he?" Damian asked.

"In the drawing room."

Damian didn’t wait for another word. He turned and strode away. He didn’t know if Henry had come to reconcile or to accuse.