"I, too, am concerned," Alice said calmly, folding her arms. "In fact, I believe oversight is necessary."
Velra’s eyes narrowed to slits.
"...Excuse ?"
"I don’t believe I stuttered."
Alice’s tone was smooth—controlled—but the faint tightening of her jaw gave her away.
Velra tilted her head slightly. "Oversight of what, exactly?"
"Of the blood-drinking."
The word hung in the air.
I felt my headache worsen instantly.
Alice continued, gaze steady. "You might harm my loyal servant. I will supervise. Do you have any objections?"
Velra blinked once.
Then she let out a soft, incredulous laugh.
"You lack manners," she said lightly. "Were you taught to stare at soone while they eat?"
Alice’s composure cracked—just a little.
A ripple of mana flared around her, silver and sharp. It was weaker than usual—the Northern restrictions suppressed large-scale spellcasting—but the intent was clear.
The only reason the room didn’t explode was because of the contract’s ’do no harm’ clause binding Velra.
Velra felt it too. The invisible leash.
And she hated it.
The temperature seed to drop several degrees.
This was escalating far too quickly.
I stepped between them before either pride carried them sowhere irreparable.
"Velra, stop provoking her," I said firmly. "You can’t even engage in a fair fight right now because of the contract."
Silence.
Her gaze slid to .
"And even at your best," I added carefully, "you never won against Lady Alice."
That did it.
Velra’s eye twitched violently.
"Ugh. Shut it," she snapped. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"
Whose side?
In the ga—
and here—
I never hesitated.
"Of course I’m on Lady Alice’s side," I replied without pause. "I am a servant of the Draken family."
Velra stared at .
Sothing flickered behind her irritation—sothing softer, quickly buried.
"Truly clueless," she muttered, shoulders slumping in exaggerated disappointnt.
anwhile, Alice’s lips curved upward ever so slightly.
Victory.
Small.
But satisfying.
I rubbed the back of my neck.
"Don’t worry," I said to Velra. "I’ll provide the blood as promised."
She looked at sharply.
"Do you think that’s what this is about?" she asked quietly.
The sarcasm was gone.
For a mont, she didn’t look like a proud demon noble or a theatrical nace.
She looked... frustrated.
"You really..." She exhaled sharply. "Go, then. See to the descendant of warriors you’re so fond of not refusing."
Alice’s smile faded slightly.
"What is that supposed to an?"
"Nothing," Velra replied smoothly. "I simply find loyalty charming. Especially when it is so one-sided."
"That’s enough," I cut in before that turned into another explosion.
Velra clicked her tongue.
Then her form began to blur at the edges.
Golden hair dissolved into shadow first.
Then pale skin.
Then the faint glow of her eyes.
She sank into my shadow with a final glare at Alice.
Cowardly retreat?
Strategic repositioning?
Hard to tell with her.
Alice exhaled slowly.
"...You reprimanded her on purpose."
It wasn’t a question.
"Yes," I admitted. "If she gets too comfortable, she’ll start pushing boundaries."
"And you can handle her?"
"Not alone."
Alice studied my shadow thoughtfully.
"She listens to you," she said after a mont.
I almost laughed.
"She argues with ."
"That’s not the sa thing."
Silence settled between us.
Alice stepped closer—much closer than before. Close enough that I could see the faint tension still lingering in her eyes.
"You understand," she said quietly, "that I’m not doing this out of petty jealousy."
"I know."
"I don’t trust her."
"I wouldn’t expect you to."
"She’s dangerous."
"Yes."
"And yet you’re protecting her."
That one lingered.
I chose my words carefully.
"I’m protecting the opportunity she represents. And... the contract binds her to . If she falls, I take the backlash."
Alice’s expression shifted—concern overtaking irritation.
"So this affects you directly."
"Everything about her does."
Alice glanced at my shadow again.
"...If she harms you—"
"She won’t," I interrupted.
Alice’s eyes sharpened.
"That confident?"
"No," I admitted. "But she won’t break the contract. Her pride wouldn’t survive it."
Alice was quiet for a long mont.
Then—
"Very well," she said. "I will supervise the feeding."
I sighed.
"Lady Alice..."
"This is non-negotiable."
From my shadow ca a faint, irritated whisper:
"I can hear you, you know."
Alice didn’t miss a beat.
"Good."
The mana in the air prickled again, but this ti it was restrained—asured.
Not hostility.
A warning.
I ran a hand down my face.
"When we arrive at the Duke’s estate," I said clearly, addressing both of them, "Velra, you will work properly. No theatrics. No provocation."
A pause.
Then from the darkness at my feet:
"...How dull."
"Properly," I repeated.
Another pause.
"...Fine."
Alice crossed her arms, her boots crunching lightly against the gravel path.
For a brief second, her gaze flicked downward—
not at .
At my shadow.
There was a faint crease between her brows. Disdain? Suspicion? Habit?
Then, just as quickly, she smoothed her expression into sothing composed and proper.
"Don’t get too close to demons," she said evenly. "I’m worried you might get caught up in unpleasant rumors."
The tone was calm.
Too calm.
But beneath it—there was sothing else.
Concern.
Not the distant concern of a noble for a servant.
Sothing closer. Warr.
I smiled faintly.
"Rumors?" I repeated.
"You know how it is," she replied. "The mont sothing unusual happens, it grows teeth. And claws. And a hundred tongues."
She wasn’t wrong.
After what happened in the central region’s thieves’ guild—
Velra’s dramatic appearance, the sealed noble demon, the chaos, the guild leader’s chronic illness miraculously cured—
Even if everyone present had worn concealing robes, stories like that didn’t stay buried.
If anything, they thrived in the dark.
’Honestly, I’d be more disappointed if nothing spread.’
A servant from the North commanding a demon.
A high-ranking demon subdued by the Northern heiress.
A miraculous healing.
It was the kind of story gossipmongers would devour whole.
But—
Their curiosity wasn’t my problem.
"No matter what the world says," I replied lightly, "my only duty is to serve Lady Alice."
I ant it as a simple statent.
Yet the mont the words left my mouth—
Alice coughed.
Once.
Twice.
Then again, as if sothing had lodged in her throat.
"Ahem. I-Is that so?"
Her ears were faintly red.
She turned her face away from , silver hair catching the afternoon light like frost.
"In any case," she said briskly, "be mindful. Even if you don’t care about gossip, I do."
That made blink.
"You do?"
"Of course I do." Her tone sharpened slightly. "You’re part of this household. If your na is dragged through mud, it reflects on us."
There it was.
The noble explanation.
Clean. Logical. Distant.
But the way her fingers subtly tightened against her sleeve betrayed her.
"...Right," I said quietly.
A short silence settled between us.
The wind rolled gently across the courtyard, carrying the faint scent of pine and cold stone. Servants moved in the distance, careful not to intrude.
"What about the sparring?" I asked after a mont. "You said we’d continue once we reach."
Alice hesitated.
"I did."
"So?"
She looked at properly this ti, her sharp blue eyes scanning my face, my posture, the slight stiffness in my breathing.
"As I said before," she replied more softly, "I have no intention of pushing you."
"That’s new."
"I’m adapting."
"To what?"
"To the fact that you really are reckless."
That wiped the faint smile off my face.
Her gaze didn’t waver.
"I don’t intend to test how far you can go anymore," she continued. "Not recklessly."
I opened my mouth to argue—
Closed it.
There was no sarcasm in her voice.
Only quiet resolve.
"...Understood," I said at last.
She nodded once, satisfied.
"Good."
A few steps of silence passed before she added, almost casually:
"And for the record... if anyone spreads rumors about you commanding a demon, I’ll deal with them."
I blinked.
"Deal with them how?"
She gave a very small, very cold smile.
"I’m sure they’ll reconsider."
Ah.
The Northern way of handling gossip.
Directly.
"I need to greet my father first," she said, turning away. "You should report to the chief steward and rest. Properly. Not ’lean against a trustworthy tree’ rest."
"Yes, Lady Alice."
She paused.
Just slightly.
Then glanced back over her shoulder.
"...Julies."
"Yes?"
"Don’t do anything reckless while I’m gone."
"That depends on your definition of reckless."
Her stare sharpened.
"Julies."
I raised both hands in surrender.
"I’ll behave."
"...See that you do."
With that, she walked off, her steps brisk—almost urgent.
Not panicked.
But determined.
As I watched her silver hair fade down the stone corridor, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything tightening around us.
A demon noble in the manor.
A looming Demon King.
Rumors spreading across regions.
And Alice—
trying, in her own awkward way, to shield from it all.
I let out a quiet breath.
Too late, though.
The mont I stepped into this story, I had already chosen the center of the storm.
And if staying by her side ant standing in it—
Well.
There were worse fates than that.
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