Tap, tap. Matthew rapped on the elegant brown door.

"Madam, the Duke and the young master have arrived."

There was no answer from within, despite his report. Matthew knocked again, announcing the visitors' presence, but it was futile.

Eventually, Cain stepped forward, bypassing Matthew, and turned the doorknob. Taking hold of Laila's hand, he led her into the room. She was pulled into the chamber without a moment to gather her thoughts.

The room exuded a classical elegance, yet the plain, muted curtains obscured the light, casting a somber atmosphere. The lifeless space emanated a stagnant odor, reminiscent of the sickly, faint scent peculiar to afflicted individuals.

As Laila surveyed her surroundings, something caught her eye, causing her to start and turn her head.

In surprise, she gasped, swallowing her dry throat. Leaning against the grand bed was a pale, frail woman. Though she might have been beautiful in her youth, now she appeared emaciated, her skin sagging and her protruding bones visible. Her eyes lacked vigor, mirroring her feeble appearance.

Despite her son's arrival, she continued to gaze out the window, refusing to acknowledge their presence. Though her movements did not appear entirely impaired, it seemed her mind was not fully present.

Feeling unsure of how to proceed in the absence of any response, Laila simply held her position.

Cain maintained an indifferent expression, as if this were a familiar scene. After observing his silent mother, he spoke softly.

"I have come, Mother. I informed you through a letter, but I have gotten married."

"...," his mother remained silent.

"Allow me to introduce her. This is my wife, Laila Vanderbilt."

Only after Cain finished speaking did the woman show any sign of reaction. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Cain. More accurately, she focused on the partially exposed figure of Laila behind him.

"Hello, darling. My mother, Rose."

Cain tilted his head slightly, calling out to Laila. Encountering an inexplicable discomfort, she held onto her hat tightly and looked up at him. With a barely audible chuckle, Cain smiled faintly. Only then did she take a few steps forward.

"Nice to meet you, Rose. I'm Laila."

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As Laila finished her introduction, a glimmer entered Rose's clouded eyes. Beneath her delicate eyebrows, her deep, dark irises trembled ever so slightly.

"I shall be living here for the time being," Cain's voice interjected between the gazes of the two women. Whether spoken or unspoken, Rose's gaze remained fixed on Laila, unwavering.

Rose slowly raised her slender hand, delicately motioning Laila to come closer. With a gentle flick of her fingers, she bent a few of them, as if beckoning. Laila, uncertain of what to do, looked back at Cain. Finding solace in his subtle nod of encouragement, she gathered her courage and approached Rose.

"More," Rose uttered with a wavering tone. It seemed she had something to say.

Laila stepped closer to the bedside, her eyes meeting Rose's gaze from a close distance. From there, she discerned the deep violet hue in Rose's eyes, visible even amidst the distinct features. Although she had lost her radiance, her elegant silver hair revealed a touch of her grace.

Rose's eyes carefully swept over Laila's face, taking in her naturally tied back blond hair, her round forehead, and the refined curve of her eyebrows beneath her blue irises.

Suddenly, a surge of intensity appeared in Rose's eyes, almost terrifying. With another flick of her fingers, gesturing for Laila to come closer, she leaned forward.

"If only you were miserable," Rose whispered softly, audible only to Laila.

"...!" Laila froze in disbelief at Rose's words. She never expected to hear such venomous remarks from her newly met mother-in-law. Rose's quiet curses, whispered rather than shouted like Delma's blatant insults, shook her more profoundly.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Cain approached and gently pulled Laila away, shielding her behind him. Facing the door, he shouted,

"Matthew! Escort the young mistress out!"

At the exclamation of Cain, the door swung open, and Matthew entered briskly. Observing the frozen countenance of Laila, he spoke:

"Kindly depart, young lady."

Matthew's visage displayed no trace of surprise, as if he had anticipated such an occurrence. Lyla, concealing her trembling hands, followed behind him.

"What is the meaning of your words?" she inquired, striving to maintain composure.

After the door closed, Cain sighed softly and asked. Her eyes, which beheld her son for the first time, slowly narrowed, containing a tinge of resentment.

"I wish you had... disappeared."

Beyond her composed gaze, a sinister madness flickered.

Cain closed his eyes tightly and proceeded to sit on the edge of the bed. He turned his body, examining Rose's complexion with an anxious expression. He neither expressed anger nor questioned why she would utter such words. He knew well that Rose was not in a sound state.

"Are you receiving proper treatment?"

"What nonsense are you spouting?"

Rose inquired, revealing her animosity for the first time.

"You are being unkind to our long-lost son."

Cain, with a sorrowful countenance, gently grasped Rose's frail hand.

"Please treat my wife kindly. Do not harbor regrets."

Within the solemnity of his voice, his gaze shone with profound clarity.