Francis observed Nicolai's visage, gasping in anticipation. However, to his disappointment, there was no traceable satisfying reaction. The hint of dejection, agony, or remorse that he wished to uphold between the folds of this ever-motionless face of his friend. Simply, it didn't even exist.

Walking on the shattered glass beneath his footwear, Francis left the room, not looking behind. Despite all, he felt partially gratified about the outcome of this talk. Because, in the end, he got the entertainment and the distraction he was looking for by coming here. And now is the time to return to reality.

Nicolai's eyes were following him, step by step. The steady pace and the firm footsteps made Nicolai doubt his earlier deduction about the Count's state of drunkenness. Maybe the Count wasn't drunk as he pretended to be.

Nicolai watched him leaning on the door's trim to support himself when he lost his balance.

"I won't forgive you if you touch my tea sets collection," Francis shouted. His words were choppy, and gasps followed them. It was sudden, and it dumbfounded Nicolai. He couldn't decide whether the Count was really drunk or pretending to be. He looked at the glass in his hand and smelled it again. Then took another sip and said between his lips, ¨ What is this? ¨

***

The morning of the awaited day, when the bargain about the fate of the village and its residents set to be concluded, was here. Mr. Hendrickson decided to fight his severe headache and go to meet the Count before the start of the important meeting. He wanted to make an end to the misgivings that haunt him and confirm if his destiny was left in the hand of that hairy wicked magus. If it was so, then this must be his ultimate downfall.

After all these persisting battles, after all, this gives and takes. His mind is blank now, unable to think. Nothing left to fight with. He used everything he could. He is tired of these long, cold fights. But what he feared the most wasn't dead. He was more afraid of humiliation, torment, and pain.

He placed his hand open in front of his face, fingers stretched to block the light insinuated from the untidy curtains. The light was one of the factors that aggravate his headache. Then he leaned on the other hand to support his body, changing his posture to the seating position. This maneuver never ceased to be hard, since the injury to his right leg. And because the effort he used was enormous, he needed a few minutes to recover his lost energy. However, his stretched hand was kept pending to defend against insinuating light.

At last, he noticed the dryness in his mouth; it made his throat exfoliate. Made him grave something to soothe this intense thirst.

Taking a pick from the gap between his fingers, he reached with his free hand to the nightstand near his bed and drained all the remnant liquid in the glass. Only by doing so, he feels a little better.

Yet, the light that invaded the room became stronger, the messier curtains were unable to halfheartedly obscure it any longer. But, for the inconvenience, he blamed himself. It was his fault. He was the one who had forgotten to close them last night.

Not long ago, this simple work that was handed to the maids lately became his daily routine. It has been since the affair of the missing maid that was under his service. What tough labor for a man with a painful physical disability and a severe intermittent headache.

Ah, Seaben is striking again. A realization came to Mr. Hendrickson the moment he entered his room and found it not as clean as he prefers it.

What did that butler want for this move?

Let him die from the dust and filth... Perhaps this will work this time...

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The Butler really not letting him catch any breath. This time he has changed his approach and decided to make Nicolai's life harder for him?

What an enormous improvement... He is being very impassioned for a predator who cornered his prey?

After a strain of battle, Mr. Hendrickson finally got himself dressed. In top-notch elegance, he gave his look that flawless image, full of prestige and reliance. Whoever will see him won't believe that he was the same person who had woken up an hour ago.

Crossing a corridor after another while finding his way to the Count's study room, he remarked on the irksome weird quietness that was out of usual. He stopped and glanced behind him. After, he shifted his eyes left and right. He was almost sure about some kind of upcoming physical attack to hit him from somewhere. Was it an additional amusing game from his favorite playmate?

The pulsation from his headache caused him to lose his balance. Luckily his cane supported him and preserved his lost equilibrium. When the intolerable pain lessened, he abandoned his interest to meet the Count. Therefore, he drew back to his chamber.

What if he knows about Francis's true choice, so this will change his current situation?

His life will stay under their mercy until he breaks the siege that surrounded his freedom. And there was no argument on which the loose point he should start with. He must eliminate the hairy magus, and he must eliminate him sooner rather than later.

He thought about how he was going to accomplish this resolution all the way to his quarters, again and again. Since he doesn't have time to wait for his long-term plan to bear its fruits. He needed to strike now more than ever.

For an instant, as he opened the door to his chamber, the idea of using his foresight one last time to locate the perfect tool seemed so tempting and the best logical solution. Even with his declining vision, the severe headache, he doesn't have another method. His foresight was his only as well as the last recourse.

Choosing a comfortable seat, he closed his eyes, aiming to regain some of his extinct calmness and straight his deviated concentration.

As soon as he reopened them, his visual acuity rapidly decreased to eventually change into a blur, as if he was looking through a thin, placid waterfall.

The white part of his eye was heavily congested, harshly burning. His head felt like splitting. But his determination ought all his physical suffering.

Once his iris began to split like a cell in the process of reproduction, a fine string of red tears drips slowly as his eyelids washed it out before they closed up anew.

When his eyelids moved a second time, two formed irises were visible. One in the center while the other settled in the outer corner of each eye, and was slightly smaller than the first. When Nicolai blinked a few times, the blurry images he was seeing began to sharpen. A diverse scenery appeared before him. They moved quickly, changing the point of view in the blink of an eye like shaky footage. At first, they were confused as the images were sometimes of trees, sky... And other times were of buildings, people, then corridors and stairs... After that, the incoherent movement stopped and everything became clear.

One blink, then Nicolai saw the window of his chamber in front of him, another blink, and his sight traveled through the manor exploring the corridors and chambers of the whole main house, not leaving a single nook without inspection. However, the movement halted at the view of an unfamiliar face in one of the guest chambers.

Nicolai noticed two young individuals talking, precisely one was talking as if she was giving a presentation and the other one was listening. The white hair on the eyebrow of the second young individual startled Nicolai and made him lose his concentration. As a result, the image became fuzzy. After he recovered his coolness and returned the focus to the second person with the half-white eyebrow… He wondered in disbelieve.

"Isn't this Savannah?"

"Is this Savannah, the firstborn child of Lady Akila and one of the famous black stars of the Cocrotta's clan."

"What's going on? Did they find a weak spot and used it to cross the barrier without causing an alert?…"

The pain in his head and around his eyes throbbed. Hence, he decided to investigate this matter later and focus on searching for his aim.

The blood oozed from his eyes as the image in his foresight changed to see outside the house.

Akila was in the garden smelling an early spring flower as the wind played with her hair and clothes. Her face was inconceivable.

Francis in the terrace, using the papers as a shield from the sunlight, his hand holding the papers, and the part of his face that wasn't covered by the shadow was softly cracked like arid soil.

Outside the manor, Nicolai spotted a big gathering of the residents in front of the main tavern…