Her gaze sharpened slightly. He anticipates a reaction beyond simple assessment, she noted inwardly. Suggests the demonstration involves elements outside standard practice. She weighed this new piece of information. Observing Lloyd's interaction with the Arch Duke, particularly regarding this 'unexpected' project, presented an opportunity to gather more information about the increasingly unpredictable variable he represented. The anomaly that was Lloyd Ferrum continued to defy easy explanation.
But then, a different connection surfaced in her thoughts, triggered by his mention of the project. Her expression remained unchanged, but her next words carried a subtle, almost undetectable edge, a reference to her own quiet observations the previous day. "This 'prototype'," she stated, her voice still level but somehow more pointed, "does it perhaps relate to the… extensive time you spent yesterday engaged in unorthodox activities near the secluded pond? With," she paused, the word choice deliberate, almost too precise, yet carrying an undeniable undertone of scrutiny, "'that' maid?"
Lloyd froze mid-breath, genuinely caught off guard. He hadn't realized she'd seen them. Or perhaps he'd underestimated her observational reach within the estate. Damn it. How much did she witness? The ash? The lye leaching? The smokehouse rendezvous? His carefully constructed veil of secrecy felt suddenly, embarrassingly thin. He felt a flush creep up his neck, annoyance warring with a strange sort of impressed respect for her silent vigilance.
He recovered quickly, forcing a casual tone, though his internal monologue was scrambling. She saw? Okay, damage control. Don't deny. Deflect. Maintain mystery. "Ah," he managed, rubbing the back of his neck nonchalantly. "An astute observation, as always, Rosa." He offered a slightly sheepish grin. "Guilty as charged. My apologies if our… rustic experimentation… disturbed the tranquility of your afternoon constitutional." He paused, then confirmed directly, deciding honesty (or a version of it) was the best defense. "But yes. Today's presentation is indeed the culmination of that work." He met her gaze again, regaining his confidence. "All the more reason for you to attend, wouldn't you agree? To see the final result of such… unorthodox activities." He deliberately threw her own words back at her, subtly challenging her judgment.
Rosa considered this. Her usual preference was for detachment, avoiding unnecessary entanglement. But his open admission, confirming the link between yesterday's baffling, ash-covered labor and today's high-stakes presentation… it tipped the scales. The logical need to observe, to gather information on this inconsistent variable, outweighed her preference for distance. Understanding Lloyd Ferrum, however illogical his actions seemed, was becoming necessary for navigating her own position within this arranged marriage.
"Very well," she conceded finally, the word clipped, precise. She rose gracefully from the armchair, smoothing the emerald silk of her gown. "Observing the outcome of your… project… may provide relevant information regarding your current atypical behaviors." Her agreement was framed entirely in the language of detached observation, lacking any hint of personal curiosity or conventional support. "Lead the way."
Lloyd hid his sigh of relief, mixed with faint amusement at her clinical phrasing. Atypical behaviors. That was certainly one way to put it. "Excellent," he said briskly, turning towards the door. "After you, my lady."
The walk to the Arch Duke's study felt subtly different this time, charged with an unusual energy. Lloyd strode with focused purpose, mentally reviewing his presentation points. Rosa glided beside him, a step behind as protocol dictated but acutely present, her silence somehow more potent than conversation. Lloyd couldn't help but feel a strange sense of… shared scrutiny? A temporary alliance formed by mutual curiosity about what was about to unfold? Whatever it was, it was new, and undeniably weird.
They arrived at the heavy oak door. Lloyd knocked firmly.
"Enter."
He pushed the door open, stepping aside slightly to allow Rosa to enter first, a small concession to formality. The scene within was familiar, yet subtly shifted. Roy Ferrum sat behind his desk, imposing as ever, his expression stern but expectant. But seated in one of the heavy chairs opposite the desk, sipping delicately from a porcelain teacup, was Milody Austin, Duchess Ferrum. Lloyd's mother.
Mother? Here? Lloyd felt a flicker of surprise. Her presence wasn't requested, not part of his plan. Had his father summoned her? Or had she inserted herself, driven by her own sharp curiosity about the 'prototype' her son had promised? Her presence added another layer of complexity, another critical audience member known for her discerning taste and swift judgment. This just got harder.
"Father. Mother," Lloyd greeted, bowing respectfully. Rosa offered a shallow, perfect curtsy, her face serene, betraying nothing of her internal assessments.
"Lloyd," Roy acknowledged, his gaze sharp, assessing. "You requested this audience. The deadline is met."
"Indeed, Father," Lloyd confirmed, stepping forward.