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“For I fear there is someone who aims for your head among the Praesidio.”

Henrique’s words lingered in Elliot’s mind as he put on his suit. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, it all felt surreal. First, he was appointed with a big responsibility. Now, a knowledge of someone who allegedly wanted to kill him was being shoved down his throat.

He was terrified—and he was all alone.

Elliot stared at his reflection. A fine and neat man, as always. Tonight, he wore dark grey waistcoat over white shirt, topped with a black suit. Nothing extravagantly fancy; just a formal get-up. He tightened his bowtie, adding an accent on his neat outfit. His honey brown mane was tidied slick, matching his formal style.

He stared at himself. Though tidy, he felt like a mess. Well, his mind was a mess. And now that he had to go to meet the heads of Praesidio, bearing the knowledge that one of them might be aiming to assassinate him—he felt nauseous. Goodness, if his stomach was not empty, he would have emptied it on the spot. That was how nauseous he felt. Elliot shook his head, biting his lower lip instinctively. He did not want to meet the elders at all.

He tidied his already neat hair once again just to waste some time, huffing loudly. He straightened his back, trying to gain his confident back. Was he nervous or was he scared? He was not sure—but he knew he had to be confident. He had to present the best of himself in front of the heads of Praesidio. After all, he was the star of the show tonight.

Someone came knocking on his bedroom door, retrieving his attention. “Elliot?” a voice came—it was Charlotte. “Are you ready?”

Elliot spun and confidently strode out his bedroom, taking one more glance at his reflection in the mirror. He had to be confident, or he would fall prey into the hands of the anonymous predator.

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Charlotte led the young master to the dining hall, although he knew his own way. She greeted several maids on the way, though taking her pace with each step. She seemed to be in a hurry, as though she could not bear being near Elliot. Or was she maintaining a distance between them?

Perhaps, both.

Guilt suddenly erupted in his heart. Maybe he was too harsh on her this afternoon. She was concerned, true, and she could not help it. From the eyes of outsiders, it looked like Elliot was endangering himself on purpose. Going to meet the person who attempted to kill him, what was he doing? It was normal for people to think like that. The only person who thought Elliot was safe near the odd boy was Elliot himself. And even then, it was all a hunch. He could not prove the boy’s innocence. Maybe, he deceived himself to think that the boy could do no harm.

Although he wished to prove the boy’s innocence.

After all, it was not the boy’s wish to kill Elliot—someone else had forced the poor boy to do the dirty work, right?

“Ah, I can’t do this anymore,” Charlotte moaned, putting her hands on her hips. She stopped abruptly and spun around. Eyebrows furrowed; she pierced her gaze at Elliot. “I don’t like feeling like I’m being defeated by that boy again.”

Elliot froze in place, blinking in confusion.

The maid pointed a finger at Elliot, bending her upper body in an accusing gesture. “I hate that guy, and I’m concerned about you,” she spat. “But I don’t like that it feels like we’re arguing because of him. I don’t want him to have that much power over us.”

Elliot was dumbfounded, processing Charlotte’s gibberish. After realizing what she meant, he burst out laughing. “What? Are you trying to apologize, or do you want me to apologize?” he slapped his knees, arching his back as his laughter became uncontrollable.

The maid pursed her lips, though immediately changed into a smile. She did not care about who should apologize—she only wanted them to be in good term. Who cared if she hated the strange boy? Not her. She could care less about him. “Whatever,” she turned around, sauntering away as she tried to hide her contentment.

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The two finally arrived at the dining hall—the same dining hall Elliot had visited this noon. However, now the dining hall was filled with important people of power—and Elliot could not help noticing his inferiority. He was nervous.

Elliot straightened his back, while Charlotte stepped and touched the door handle, motioning to the young master that she would open the door whenever he was ready.

Elliot inhaled deeply once and released his breath. That seemed enough to him. He nodded at the maid, who opened the dining hall door at the earliest sign.

Though he was in the dining hall this noon, it seemed like the hall had changed quite drastically. The long, rectangular table in the middle of the room had so many meals arranged neatly on top—variety of meat, vegetables, chicken, soup, dessert, and more dishes. There were also candlesticks on the table, with each candle lit up. Mosaics were decorating the wall of the hall. A diamond chandelier on top of them added an accent to the room, reflecting the light. Around the table with those delicious looking meals were seats occupied by people. They were circling around the table, sitting on their chosen spots.

As soon as Henrique noticed Elliot’s presence at the door, his lips fell into a smile. “Oh, look who’s finally joining us.”

Everyone turned their heads following Henrique, throwing their attention on Elliot. The young man was utterly embarrassed and was unsure with how to deal with the eyes on him. Everyone gave a polite, artificial smile, welcoming Elliot with a cheer. Yet, Elliot felt as if they were mocking him—as their eyes were not smiling with their lips. There were seven people there—every head of the families and their wives, except for Pacem. Even Catarina was there. She was the only one whose eyes also smiled. Her presence comforted Elliot. However, she sat so far away.

Henrique toasted a glass as a greeting. “Good evening, Elliot.”

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