Noir melted back into Noel's shadow as he and Elyra stepped into the corridor. The faint hum of conversation from the dining hall grew louder with each step until the heavy double doors came into view again. Noel brushed a hand across his face, feeling the sting of a fresh bruise just beneath his eye. His sleeve was torn, and faint streaks of dirt clung to his jacket.

Elyra glanced sideways at him. "You look like you wrestled a bear."

"Close enough," Noel muttered, pushing the doors open.

The noise inside died instantly. Dozens of eyes turned toward them—their father's sharp gaze among them. Charlotte rose from her seat, worry clear in her golden eyes. "Noel—what happened to you?"

Elena and Selene followed, both equally tense. Selene's expression flickered with alarm before settling into that calm, icy mask she always used in serious moments.

Noel raised a hand slightly. "We were attacked. Inside the territory."

The words hung heavy in the air, shocking everyone into silence.

Albrecht's chair scraped softly against the floor as he stood, his tone measured but firm. "Inside my territory?"

"Yes," Noel said, his voice steady despite the tightness in his chest. "And we need to talk. Now. Privately."

For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then Albrecht nodded once, curtly. "Very well. Follow me."

As the two men turned toward the exit, Noel paused by Elyra. His voice softened just enough for her to hear. "Tell the others what happened. I'll handle my father."

Elyra met his eyes, understanding flashing between them. "Be careful."

"I always am," he replied quietly, before following Albrecht out of the hall and into the dim corridor beyond.

The door to Albrecht's office shut with a solid thud, muffling the chatter from the hall behind them. The air inside felt heavier—thick with the scent of old paper, steel, and faint traces of mana residue. The room was lined with tall shelves filled with maps, family records, and battle trophies from generations past.

Albrecht walked to his desk and remained standing behind it, his eyes fixed on Noel. "Start talking," he said flatly.

Noel didn't waste time. "Mirelle left the dinner. Noir followed her. She found her meeting with two people in the eastern gardens—strangers, but strong. I confronted them. One of them was from the same group that attacked the Holy Capital and Tharvaldur."

A long silence followed. Albrecht didn't react—not with shock, not even doubt. He just stared, unreadable.

"I fought him," Noel continued, his tone firm. "He retreated, but not before confirming what we suspected. They're behind the horde attacks, and they're using Mirelle as their contact."

At that, Albrecht's gaze hardened. "Watch your words, Noel."

"I'm telling you the truth," Noel pressed. "She's working with them."

The older man's jaw tightened, but his tone stayed calm—too calm. "You accuse your stepmother without proof. Mirelle has been part of this house longer than you've been alive. When your mother died, she held this family together. She—"

"—is not who you think she is," Noel interrupted, his voice low, controlled. "You didn't see what I saw."

Albrecht's hands rested on the desk, knuckles faintly white. "Grief can twist a man's sight, Noel. You've been carrying too much since Valor, and now you see enemies everywhere."

Noel's lips pressed into a thin line. "So you don't believe me."

"I believe you fought someone, yes," Albrecht said. "But not that Mirelle's involved. She wouldn't."

The certainty in his voice only made Noel's stomach twist.

'Of course,' he thought bitterly. 'Even now… still blind.'

Noel stayed silent for a moment, staring at his father across the desk. The faint glow of the lanterns cast long shadows over Albrecht's face, hardening every line.

"So that's it," Noel finally said, his tone dry. "You'll take her word over mine."

Albrecht didn't flinch. "I'm taking facts over emotion. You fought something in our gardens—fine. But claiming Mirelle's a traitor? You're reaching."

'Unbelievable,' Noel thought, his jaw tightening. Even with proof staring him in the face, he refuses to see it.

Albrecht turned slightly toward the large window behind his desk, where the moonlight spilled faintly through the glass. "Regardless," he said, voice calm again, "you'll accompany me during the next horde assault. I usually handle it alone, but this time you'll be there. You wanted to prove your strength—this is your chance."

Noel's eyes narrowed. "You think this is about proving myself?"

"It's always been about that," Albrecht replied simply. "Strength keeps our house alive. Doubt weakens it."

Noel forced a slow breath through his nose, suppressing the irritation boiling in his chest. "Fine. I'll be ready."

As he turned toward the door, Albrecht added, "You've grown stronger, Noel. But don't let paranoia make you careless. The Thorne bloodline has survived because we trust our own."

Noel paused at the door, his hand still gripping the knob. The tension in the room was sharp enough to cut through. He didn't turn around when he spoke.

"Then come with me," he said quietly.

Albrecht frowned. "What?"

"You don't know where she is, do you?" Noel continued, his tone steady but cold. "Since she left the dinner, you haven't seen her once. So let's go ask her together."

For the first time that night, Albrecht hesitated. His eyes flicked toward the side window, as if calculating something. The hesitation lasted only a second before his usual calm returned. "You think confronting her now will help?"

"I think finding her before she does something worse will." Noel's voice carried no anger—just certainty. "If I'm wrong, fine. You'll have your proof. But if I'm right…" He met his father's gaze at last. "…then we don't have time to wait."

The silence stretched between them, filled with the faint crackle of the lantern flames.

Finally, Albrecht exhaled through his nose and straightened. "Fine. We'll find her."

Noel gave a single nod. "Good. Let's move."

They left the office together, their steps echoing through the dim corridor. The night outside was silent, almost too still—the kind of quiet that only came before a storm.

As they stepped into the courtyard, Noir's whisper brushed through Noel's thoughts.

'Dad… she's not far. I can smell her trail.'

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