The night was deep, and the city of Lorynth was already blanketed in white snow.
Sylas sat in the carriage, holding a small charcoal brazier for warmth.
He listened to the creaking sound outside, knowing it was the carriage wheels pressing through the accumulated snow.
Snowflakes fell, hitting the carriage curtain with a dull thud.
Sylas was somewhat distracted.
In Lyonesse, winters were always like this.
So, he felt a familiar, lonely nostalgia.
He hadn't expected Lorynth in the central plains to also have such heavy snow.
"Young Master, the snow is really heavy this year," Page remarked emotionally.
"It certainly is..." Sylas said faintly.
Sylas lifted the carriage curtain. By the light of the carriage lanterns, he saw several snow-covered mounds by the roadside.
Before long, these mounds would be completely buried.
Only after the snow melted would the frozen beggars inside be discovered.
A timely snow promises a good harvest; next year should indeed bring a good yield.
But many would not live to see next year.
Yet Sylas had no energy to pity them.
At least these people had a final outcome: death.
Once dead, this miserable life ended, once and for all.
He himself was unable to seek death.
The carriage arrived at the entrance of the Duchess of Arbor's manor.
For the Duchess's manor, heavy snow only added ambiance, not difficulty.
Maids and servants were clearing snow at the entrance; not a speck of white was allowed on the ground.
High officials and nobles came and went, utterly unfazed by the wind and snow.
No amount of snow could affect these people's enjoyment.
The banquet had ended by now, and most guests were saying their goodbyes.
Sylas's carriage arrived at a side gate. The coachman found a maid from the Duchess's manor to ask where Marshal Victoria of the Marquess's household was.
The maid said gravely, "The Chancellor is quite heavily intoxicated. Our manor has already arranged accommodation for her; she can stay the night here.
However, Her Grace, the Duchess of Arbor, has also instructed that if the Lord from your household wishes to take her home, we are to show him the way."
Hearing this, Sylas alighted from the carriage.
He told Page and the coachman to wait in the gatehouse and followed the maid inside.
Since I'm already here, can I just turn back?
I have to see Victoria, don't I?
What if she wants to use me to show off?
Not cooperating would mean a beating.
The Duchess's manor was immensely impressive—pavilions, towers, waterside gazebos, singing stages—the scenery was like a painting.
Enhanced by the white snow, it was simply a fairyland on earth.
The maid held an umbrella for Sylas, saying as they walked, "Mind your step, Lord, don't slip."
Sylas nodded silently.
After walking for what felt like a long time, they finally arrived before a bedchamber.
The maid opened the door and stood respectfully at the entrance, saying, "Please enter, Lord. The Chancellor is inside."
Sylas: "Thank you."
He stepped inside.
The door suddenly closed behind him.
Sylas started, quickly turning to try to open it.
A cool voice came from behind him: "Lord Sylas, here to pick up your Lady Sovereign?"
Sylas whirled around to see Celeste standing with her hands behind her back, slowly walking out from the inner room.
Having been tricked so many times, even if Sylas was foolish, he could understand now—he had walked into a trap.
Whether Victoria was truly drunk was uncertain.
But Celeste was definitely seizing the opportunity to blackmail him!
Despite this girl's delicate and graceful appearance, her nature wasn't much different from her sister's.
The reason he hadn't spoken since arriving at the Duchess's manor was to avoid attracting Celeste's attention.
And now, well, he had come knocking on her door himself.
He just didn't know where Victoria was now.
He leaned back against the door, lips pressed tightly together, like a white rabbit forced into a corner.
He murmured, "Your Grace... long time no see..."
"Yes. You've been living so well lately, you've almost forgotten me," Celeste said with a resentful expression.
"I wouldn't dare ..."
Sylas inwardly groaned: "When did I ever remember you? You're just a liar."
He still held a grudge against Celeste for tricking him about the consumption.
Celeste sneered, "Wouldn't dare? I think you dare quite a lot now.
Haven't you actively come to my manor?"
She didn't directly make a move but sat on an official's chair, looking coldly at Sylas, and continued,
"Your Lady Sovereign has offended me. I'm very angry. What do you say we do about that?"
"..." Sylas remained silent.
"Just a rustic village woman, how is she fit for high society?
Look at the way your Lady Sovereign is.
A typical country bumpkin! "
Celeste was seething with hatred.
Jealousy was distorting her features.
Even though she knew the work Victoria was doing now benefited Aethelred's development.
It still wouldn't do.
She firmly believed that if her elder sister had let her lead the reforms, she would have done no worse than Victoria!
Sylas sensed danger.
He said with difficulty, "Your Grace, the struggles between you women... I shouldn't get involved.
After all, my status is the lowest."
"Oh, your status is the lowest?
Chancellor Victoria sings your praises to the skies.
Making meals, serving baths...
Lord Sylas, I just want to ask you, how does it feel serving the enemy who defeated Lyonesse? What does your heart feel?"
Celeste's words hit the mark sharply, making Sylas's heart race.
Victoria could be called the executioner who destroyed Lyonesse.
She was the enemy who personally captured his mother and sister.
And yet he had to regularly serve this enemy.
Now, his service had even produced results, making this enemy quite fond of him.
Thinking of this, Sylas felt a tightness in his chest.
He lowered his head, comforting himself: "I'm just temporizing, biding my time for my family's sake..."
"Come here."
Celeste issued the icy command.
"I... Your Grace, please, not like this... I've already... already had three women... spare me..." Sylas pleaded in a low voice, incessantly.
"Come here! Let me make this clear—Victoria is sleeping right next door! If you make a racket, you'll wake her up!
See if she'll stand up for you against me!"
Celeste said angrily.
Sylas looked quietly at the other party, then, he hung his head and slowly walked over to stand before Celeste.
He was defeated by Celeste's information advantage.
Right now, he simply didn't know where Victoria was.
If she was truly next door, then he absolutely must not make a sound.
He was a prisoner. No matter how favored, he was still a prisoner.
Victoria was a woman who loved her work; she could abandon everything for her dreams.
So she definitely wouldn't break ties with Celeste over him.
Even if Victoria were willing to stand up for him, and the two sides fell out irreparably...
Isolde would certainly step in to mediate.
This Empress had long been displeased with him; she would surely drag him back to the dungeon to prepare for pregnancy.
So, in the end, he would still suffer the most.
After these considerations, he ultimately knelt helplessly before Celeste, pleading in a low voice,
"Your Grace, the Duchess of Arbor... spare me..."
Celeste's breathing grew rapid.
At this moment, Sylas wasn't just a pretty, handsome prisoner.
He was also the beloved concubine of her political rival.
No matter how high her usual integrity, the darkness in her heart could no longer be suppressed.
"Come, follow me inside!"