From that day onward, Florentine Lian began visiting the northern courtyard with striking frequency.

On the first day, she arrived carrying a basket of exotic fruit, insisting they had been delivered to her by a special order and were perfectly ripe and fresh. When Caelith reached to take them, Lady Lian refused, carrying the basket into the kitchen herself and serving the fruit cut into intricate shapes, like those served in noble houses.

On the second day, she came bearing several bolts of fabric, saying they were leftovers from the shop and perfectly suited for making new garments. Caelith protested that there was no need, but Lady Lian merely waved a dismissive hand. She had already produced a measuring tape, taken Caelith’s measurements with brisk efficiency, and departed before another refusal could be uttered.

On the third day, she arrived with several maids who held brooms and cloths in hand, scrubbing the courtyard from end to end. Yvaine tried repeatedly to stop them, but Lady Lian only laughed and urged the girls to keep working, perspiration beading across their brows while their faces remained bright with cheerful determination.

That afternoon, Yvaine leaned close to Caelith and whispered quietly in her ear, "Dear sister... what has gotten into Lady Lian? She’s treating us far too well."

Caelith had no explanation for that.

That same afternoon, Lady Lian came once again. Only this time, she did not come alone––Lucas accompanied her, too. He stood at the doorway carrying a neatly wrapped parcel in his hands.

"Miss Emberlyn," he said gently, "my father asked me to bring these. He remembered that you were fond of the honey cakes last time, so he specially had another batch prepared."

Almost instinctively, Caelith took half a step backward.

At once, Lady Lian hurried to smooth things over.

"Oh, come inside, both of you. Why stand lingering at the door?"

Caelith moved aside, allowing them entry.

Yvaine was occupied in the kitchen. She poked her head out to greet them before Lady Lian promptly rolled up her sleeves and joined her, leaving Lucas alone in the main hall.

Caelith remained standing near the doorway, looking at him somewhat awkwardly.

He looked back at her in the same manner.

"Miss Emberlyn," Lucas said first, breaking the silence, "have you been well these past days?"

She nodded slightly. "I have."

His gaze lingered upon her face for a moment. "You have grown thinner."

Caelith offered no response.

Silence stretched between them once more.

At last, she turned toward the kitchen. "I shall go assist Lady Lian."

Lucas remained where he stood, watching her retreating figure for a long while without moving.

By evening, Rhaegar returned from the Imperial Guard quarters. The moment he pushed open the door and saw who sat within the hall, his steps paused almost imperceptibly.

Lucas sat to the left, a teacup resting in his hand. Lady Lian sat to the right, chatting animatedly with Yvaine. Caelith occupied the farthest corner, seated as far from Lucas as possible, head lowered while peeling cloves of garlic.

Rhaegar’s gaze swept across Lucas before settling upon Caelith. Sensing him, she lifted her head and smiled faintly.

"You’ve returned?"

Rhaegar gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment and strode inside, seating himself directly beside her, pushing her even farther from Lucas.

Yvaine quickly called everyone to the table, announcing that the dinner was ready.

Lady Lian had prepared an extravagant spread, every inch of the table crowded with dishes. The group gathered around it together. Yvaine sat beside Lance Illian, who had also appeared that day. He claimed he had merely "passed by while on official business," yet somehow remained the entire afternoon.

Caelith naturally sat beside Rhaegar. Across from them sat Lucas, looking somewhat lonely and out of place.

The meal unfolded beneath a subtle, peculiar tension.

Rhaegar spoke very little, only occasionally placing morsels of food onto Caelith’s plate. Caelith kept her gaze lowered as she ate, seldom looking up. Lucas attempted several times to begin a conversation, but each time he caught sight of Rhaegar’s expression, he swallowed the words back down.

Only Lady Lian remained lively and talkative, praising one dish after another, complimenting the freshness of the soup and the tenderness of the fish. Yvaine humored her enthusiastically, managing to maintain a semblance of warmth at the table.

Halfway through the meal, Lucas suddenly spoke. "I heard... that the Imperial Guards arrested someone these past two days."

The entire table fell still for a moment.

Lady Lian cleared her throat and asked softly, "What sort of person?"

Rhaegar glanced at her once before answering evenly, "A remnant of the rebel Grandien family."

The fork in Lady Lian’s hand nearly slipped onto the table. For the briefest instant, her expression changed, but she steadied herself quickly.

"The Grandien family? The one from twenty years ago?"

Lucas nodded faintly.

"There are still survivors left?"

"We captured one," Rhaegar replied. "He is currently being interrogated." His gaze shifted toward Lucas. "But how did Young Lord Ostenton come to hear of this matter?"

The smile on Lucas’ face remained composed. "Only from passing merchants. I heard the commotion surrounding the arrest was rather large."

Rhaegar studied him with a steady gaze. "You seem quite interested in the matter, Lord Ostenton."

Lucas only gave a light laugh. "Not particularly. I merely heard others discussing it, and it came to mind just now."

Rhaegar did not respond again.

At the side, Lady Lian chimed in, her voice quieter than before. "The one you captured... what relation was he to the Grandien family?"

Rhaegar cast her another curious glance. "This concerns official business. It is not convenient to say more."

Lady Lian nodded obediently.

"I understand, I’m sorry."

She asked nothing further, yet beneath the table, her hands trembled ever so slightly.

And when her gaze drifted toward Caelith, it lingered with strange, unfathomable meaning.

When the meal ended, Lady Lian and Lucas took their leave.

Rhaegar escorted them to the gate and stood there watching as their figures disappeared slowly into the narrow alleyway beyond.