The count circled the vacant space around his office in weighing slow steps. His hands were behind his back. And his head made some time nodding movements and other times a shaking motion. It was like that for a few moments before he decided to sit down and revise the first draft of the term of the agreement between him and his guests with an open mind. However, he got interrupted once he finished the first paragraph.

"My lord, are you really going to give up on this village?"

The butler asked his master. The tone of his voice was vacated from the respect that he used to address him before.

Straightaway, Francis understood the stealthy meaning disguised behind these elegant words. Resting his head in his palms, pretending to be ignorant, he attempted to change the subject: "Did you dig up the second grave?"

The count lifted his sight in the direction of his butler when he didn't hear his reply. And as their eyes connected, it was followed by an instant of silence that got broken by the magus repeating his first question, but this time he used a demanding and intimidating tone: "Are you going to give up on this village?"

Francis stood up; the desk moved under the force of this full weight, pushing it forward. He walked near the magus while he fixed his gaze on his hairy face. The aurora in his crimson eyes was comparable to an ocean in his raging period, yet the magus seemed unmoved by this apparent warning. It was a red flag for disapproval and disobedience.

In a glimpse of an eye, the count stormed out of the study room, leaving flying papers behind his back.

He asked the first maid that he encountered on his way: "Did you bring the coffin inside?"

"My lord, what?" the young woman was confused.

He comprehended that she didn't know, hence he stormed at the same crazy speed. Searching for the whereabouts of this important coffin. His breath didn't calm down until he spotted the reddish-brown box made from mahogany in one of the vacant rooms. He approached the coffin and tried to open it.

Inside it was a young girl about eight- or nine years old body. She had crimson wavy long hair that hugged her small resting head and neck. She was carefully dressed as if she were going to a prestigious party. Beside her was a lovely doll with blond hair and blue eyes. Aside from the paleness that painted her porcelain skin, this girl appeared taking a nap or sleeping the fatigue out of her small body.

Francis's heart grew more tranquil when he confirmed that the coffin wasn't empty.

He retreated in relief, and after he got out of the room, he carefully shut the door behind him. The sunlight should never enter this room. He halted there, gaping at the floor, grinding his teeth in solitude. Only his crimson eyes moved to the side when he noticed a fainted clutter of a squawk forthcoming toward his place.

The feature of the dark shadow became more recognizable when the distance between the two of them decreased. He mumbled before the clutter stopped: "Please! No comment."

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Nicolai halted and waited for the count in silence until he walked away. Then he entered the room. The scenery of the coffin made his senses numb. He walked near the coffin and used his cane to touch it to confirm that it wasn't an illusion. After the doubts had left his heart, he declared in regret: "I have really become short-sighted."

Later on, the ambiance at the dining table was everything but friendly. The Count took the head seats at one of the ends of the rectangular table. While his important guests were occupying the right head seats. And Mr. Hendrickson took the left head seat. The dreadful silence was dominating the atmosphere. Only the sound of spoons hitting the vitreous bottom of the plates confirmed that this is a dining room for living beings, not dead.

Kanari was confused at the complex etiquettes she was withstanding. She asked herself many times ¨ Does really a person need these many types of spoons, forks, knives, and overlapping plates to enjoy a satisfying meal? ¨. Yet the thing that she couldn't understand the most was the scarce quantity of the food that was elegantly presented on the plates. And regardless of its beautiful representation. Was it really enough to fill a hungry mouth? Even if there was a multiple serving, she was certain that she was going to starve all the days that she was going to stay here.

She glimpsed at her mother's way, capturing the right method to use those spoons and forks, and tried to copy her manners. In her struggle, she felt a dim, distant gaze on her. She followed her intuition and lifted her head toward the source of the stares to see the smirks of Mr. Hendrickson directed at her struggle. She looked back at her plate and continued her attempts to cut the small piece of meat with the wrong knife.

When her mother noticed her, she proceeded to correct her faults while showing her the right instrument to cut the meat. And she took the opportunity to whisper in her ear: "Do not get distracted or intimidated."

No one knew better than Kanari that her mother adores talking and giving instructions in an obscure fashion. Maybe that was because of the habits and experiences that she had built over the long, rough years.

Kanari observed all attendants as she sewed the piece of meat inside of her mouth and sucked the juice that came out of it.

She was still roaming the food with her tongue, but suddenly swallowed it when she noticed what she thought was the meaning behind her mother's earlier remark.

She had a sip of water and simultaneously stole a glimpse of the crimson lord to confirm her speculations.

The morning of the next day, Kanari visited her mother's room to find her studying the terms and conditions that the Count has sent to them, representing his list of the demands that he sought to be fulfilled. She used the opportunity to check the scenery across the balcony. Comparing the gloomy view, the window of her room opened up to the scenery that she beheld from the balcony. There was a huge difference.

The balcony was opened in the main yard; the view was refreshingly marking the near end of the winter. Unlike the gloomy headstones, the backyard offered to her window.

"What's wrong?"

She heard her mother's voice as she joined her.

Kanari rested her chin on her right hand as she refined to ask the question that made her visit her mother in the first place. And changed the subject, but never shied from the complaining: "Mother, you have promised us that we are the ones who will undertake the responsibility to retrieve the chimera farm."

Her mother tried to confine her laugh, yet her eyes showed her deep amusement. She was sneering and proud at the same time, and she found it difficult to give her pleading: "Sorry, Sorry… I couldn't help myself. I was just too curious. But are you sure that you didn't want my opinion?"

Kanari pouted her lips. "Well, yeah… Promise me that you will not interfere without me asking you."

"Of course, dear…"

She stole a glimpse from her mother's notes, secretly comparing them to her, then she added: "Then, how about you inspect my revisions, and we can take notes together?"