The night was unnaturally still. The only sound came from the soft crunch of gravel beneath Noel's boots as he followed his father through the courtyard. The scent of rain hung faintly in the air, though the skies were dry—just the lingering trace of mana left behind after a fight.

Noir's voice whispered in his mind, quiet but certain.

'Dad… her scent goes this way. It's fresh.'

Noel gave a small nod without looking down. 'So she didn't run far.' His steps carried him toward the eastern garden—the same place where he and Noir had fought the Fourth Pillar barely an hour ago. The grass still bore the marks of their battle: scorched patches of earth where lightning had struck, frost still clinging faintly to the edges of shattered hedges.

"Look," Noel said, pointing toward a cluster of broken stones near the fountain. "Residual mana. Fire, lightning, shadow—all clashing. Does that seem like nothing to you?"

Albrecht crouched briefly, his crimson eyes scanning the faint blue shimmer in the soil. "I see but it could be a stray elemental creature from the forest," he said evenly. "They sometimes wander close to the estate."

Noel didn't respond. There hadn't been a single creature like that for miles—the Thorne barrier made sure of it. 'Are you really going to feign ignorance, Albrecht?'

'She's close,' Noir said again, her tone tense. 'Just ahead, behind that corner.'

Noel's eyes flicked forward. And there, half-shrouded by the moonlight filtering through the trees, stood Mirelle. Her gown flowed elegantly, her expression calm—almost too calm.

She blinked in mild surprise as they approached, hands folded gracefully before her. "Oh… Albrecht, Noel. What are you two doing out here at this hour?"

Noel didn't answer. His fingers brushed against the hilt of Revenant Fang.

Mirelle's expression shifted just enough to feign concern. "Is something wrong?" she asked softly, her tone dripping with gentle confusion. "I left the dinner because I wasn't feeling well. The air inside was… suffocating."

Albrecht's stance relaxed slightly at her words. "You could've sent a maid or guard to inform us," he said. "Noel thought something might have happened."

Her lips curved into a practiced smile. "How sweet of him to worry." Her gaze slid briefly toward Noel, calm and unflinching, as if she didn't notice the faint scorch marks still staining the ground nearby—or the wary gleam in his eyes.

Noel said nothing. He only studied her carefully, every movement, every blink. 'Not even a trace of nervousness… she's done this before.'

Noir's voice brushed against his mind, cold and precise.

'It's her. The smell—exactly the same from before. The same two were with her earlier.'

'I know,' Noel thought back. He forced his tone steady before speaking aloud. "Strange. We found mana traces all over the east garden. Fire and shadow… a fight, by the look of it."

Mirelle tilted her head slightly, eyes widening just a fraction. "Really? I didn't notice anything. Perhaps you're mistaken?"

Noel stepped forward. "Am I?"

Her gaze didn't falter. "You've been under a lot of pressure lately, Noel. Maybe you're seeing danger where there is none." Her words were velvet over blades—gentle enough to disarm, sharp enough to insult.

Albrecht lifted a hand before Noel could respond. "That's enough. We'll have the guards check the grounds tomorrow."

Noel clenched his jaw. The faint scent of perfume mixed with the lingering odor of blood and ash. He could almost hear Noir's quiet growl echoing in the back of his mind.

'Dad,' she whispered, 'she's lying.'

'Yeah,' Noel thought grimly, his gaze fixed on Mirelle. 'And she's very good at it.'

Noel took a step forward, his voice cutting through the night air like sharpened steel.

"Enough games, Mirelle."

Her eyes flickered—barely—but he caught it. The faint tremor in her composure.

He pressed on, tone low but firm. "I fought them. The same people you met with."

A pause, heavy and deliberate. "So tell me—what were you talking about with them? Why do they want Father dead? And how do you know about the horde?"

Mirelle blinked once, slowly, her expression shifting into the perfect mask of confusion. "What are you even saying, Noel? Have you lost your mind? Me?" She let out a quiet, incredulous laugh. "I've been here all night. Why would I want to harm my husband?"

Noel's glare didn't waver. His mana flared faintly, a subtle ripple that made the air tense. Behind him, Noir stirred inside his shadow, growling low enough that only Noel could hear it.

'Dad, she's shaking. Her heartbeat's fast.'

He didn't need the reminder—he could see it now. Mirelle's breathing, just slightly uneven. Her hand, clutching her sleeve too tightly. She was good at acting, but not perfect.

"Then explain this," Noel said, gesturing at the burned marks in the soil. "Shadow traces, lightning residue… both from the same fight I had an hour ago. In our own garden."

Albrecht's expression darkened as his gaze shifted between the two. "Noel," he said slowly, "you told me the ones who attacked you were connected to the incidents at the Holy Capital, Tharvaldur, and the Academy, didn't you?"

Noel nodded. "Yes. And she was with them."

For the first time, Albrecht's eyes narrowed at Mirelle. The air grew heavy between them, like the silence before a blade was drawn. Mirelle's smile faltered—but only for a breath.

"Albrecht," she said softly, voice trembling just enough to sound genuine. "You don't actually believe this, do you?"

The silence stretched until even the wind seemed afraid to move.

Mirelle stood still, her façade unwavering, but her pulse was betraying her now—quick, uneven, loud enough that Noir could hear it.

Noel exhaled slowly, the sound sharp in the quiet. "You know," he began, stepping closer, "this isn't the first time you've done this."

Her eyes snapped toward him. "What do you mean?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, his gaze lowered—to the faint, shifting darkness that rippled beneath his boots.

"Come out, Noir."

The shadow beneath him stirred like liquid, expanding outward before rising in a swirl of purple-black mist. In an instant, Noir's form solidified beside him—her sleek fur gleaming under the pale moonlight, violet eyes glowing like coals.

Mirelle's breath hitched audibly, and even Albrecht took a half-step back, hand instinctively brushing the hilt of his sword.

Noir tilted her head slightly, tail flicking. 'Hi,' she said out loud this time, her voice calm but unmistakably intelligent.

Albrecht froze, eyes narrowing in disbelief. "It can talk?"

Mirelle, pale now, stared at the shadow wolf as if seeing a ghost. "W–what is that thing?"

Noel's tone remained cold, unwavering. "My familiar. And the one who's been watching you."

He took another step forward, Revenant Fang's shadow gleaming faintly at his side.

"Everything you've done, every meeting you've tried to hide—she saw it. You can stop pretending now, Mirelle."

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