Bianca couldn't remain in the room with all the tension she had created.
"I'll leave now. It's lunchtime," she said confidently as she walked toward the door.
"The new diet plan Mr. Tian prepared is a crucial part of your recovery. Make sure to finish every meal."
The moment she left, laughter escaped her in quiet bursts. Her grandson's sharp senses, his unwavering commitment to repay a debt he didn't even owe—those things filled her with a joy she couldn't hide.
Unlike Bianca's joy, Sartor's back was soaked. The tension he felt today was on a different level than any of Bianca's past visits.
A memory returned—one he hadn't thought of in years. It had been a rainy night. Thunder boomed. Lightning flashed. He'd been asleep, but fear had pulled him awake, as though the sky itself was about to collapse. He remembered the crashing of waves outside the castle walls.
"That night... I still think of it as a dream, not a memory. But it returns again and again, whispering that what I saw was real. I remember the sensations: heavy eyelids, dry lips, my body drenched as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on me. A cold chill ran down my spine. I got up, unable to resist, and saw a woman standing atop one of the castle towers. All I could make out was her silver hair. Below her, men and women lay scattered in the garden like broken dolls. Some were missing arms, others legs—some both. The next morning, I woke to a pristine garden. No blood. No bodies. But a gnawing feeling remained—what I saw that night was real."
That afternoon, Yasmin brought him lunch, which Sartor finished in moments. Then he made his way to Tian's quarters.
As he walked the corridor that separated his room from the back garden, thoughts spun through his mind:
"The being I sat across from… He's not human. That's the feeling I got. It was the fear of a mouse before a cat. Questions keep multiplying. No one in this house will tell me anything. Maybe talking to Mr. Tian… will ease the storm inside my head."