The atmosphere in the bedroom fell into silence.
On the bed, Gwendolyn's pretty face paled. She wanted to speak but didn't know what to say.
Mirabel stood utterly rigid, motionless.
After a long moment, she opened her mouth with difficulty, forcing a smile more awkward than tears. "Ah, is that so? You... you should have said so earlier.
Really...
I thought you were just shy."
Sylas hung his head in silence. He leaned closer to Gwendolyn, hoping she would say something.
Gwendolyn hesitated, but seeing him so pitiful, she ultimately decided to let him stay.
She sighed with a smile. "Your Majesty, Lord Byron is, after all, a young master from Lyonesse, our ally, one could say.
If he wishes to stay with me, then... let him stay. Alright?"
Her tone held a faint note of pleading.
In all her life, this was the first time Mirabel had seen a beseeching look in Gwendolyn's eyes.
This feeling filled her with an inexplicable dread.
Her Auntie Gwendolyn, who had always sheltered her from wind and rain, was now begging her?
For a moment, she felt utterly humiliated.
She considered herself thick-skinned, but right now, she wished the ground would swallow her.
"Don't say anymore, Auntie Gwendolyn. I agree. Let it be so, just like this." Mirabel vowed earnestly.
Then, she turned to Sylas with sincere apology. "Byron, I will never bother you again. Rest assured. I mean what I say."
Sylas: "..."
He looked into Mirabel's wide, blinking eyes and found it hard to trust.
But Mirabel was, after all, a sovereign. Now that she had apologized, he couldn't press the matter relentlessly.
But what about the potion inside him?
Sylas had wanted to use this opportunity to ask Mirabel to undo the potion's effects.
But he heard the plea in Gwendolyn's voice.
Causing Gwendolyn difficulty was not his intention; he couldn't ask for too much.
He said, "Thank you for your understanding, Your Majesty."
Gwendolyn breathed a sigh of relief. She said with relief, "Your Majesty, you have finally become sensible."
"Haven't grown up yet! Auntie Gwendolyn, you need to get better quickly. I need you." Mirabel began to act spoiled.
Watching her play the obedient girl in front of Gwendolyn, Sylas felt the situation hadn't really improved.
But at the very least, he could stay at the Chancellor's Manor.
As long as he didn't have to move into the palace, it was good.
He didn't move, just sat by the bed, listening quietly.
From their conversation, he learned that Mirabel had already sent people to the Wealdham region to seek out extraordinary individuals.
Rumors said that near Wealdham, there was an immortal who could heal the dead and regenerate bones.
Even Rowena the Recluse often sent people to seeking immortals.
She had even received guidance from one.
If they could invite this immortal named Flora over, Gwendolyn's body might be cured.
Sylas was also quite concerned about this.
After all, if Gwendolyn recovered, he would have someone to rely on.
Right now, he was not only doing the Chancellor's work but also serving as Mirabel's attendant. His body and mind were under immense strain; it was truly unbearable.
Since Mirabel had stated her position, the day passed relatively calmly.
Sylas relaxed slightly.
It seemed Mirabel still had some moral bottom line.
But why wouldn't she leave?
The sight of her now filled Sylas with fear.
Because of this, he didn't dare venture far from Gwendolyn.
Only near the bedroom did he feel somewhat at ease.
In the evening, after attending to Gwendolyn, Sylas sat by the bed, unwilling to leave.
Gwendolyn comforted him softly: "Don't be so nervous. He'er isn't a bad child. She promised me. You can rest assured."
Sylas still leaned over nervously. "My Lady, you might not understand girls of this temperament. I had a childhood friend whose personality was quite similar to Her Majesty's.
People like them have no shame. Their words mean nothing..."
His voice trailed off because he saw Gwendolyn's pretty face turn pale again.
Sylas immediately felt he had misspoken.
Mirabel was the ruler of Stonewold, raised single-handedly by Gwendolyn. Speaking ill of the child to her face would surely upset Gwendolyn.
Sylas apologized softly: "I didn't mean Her Majesty is bad. I... I spoke wrongly just now."
Gwendolyn murmured, "She is my best friend's flesh and blood. Perhaps I have spoiled her rotten."
She looked at her hand, her fair face flushing again. "You... could you hold it?"
Sylas hurriedly took her hand.
Gwendolyn gave a shallow smile and said sincerely, "Sylas, from now on, let's work together to properly guide Her Majesty. Alright?"
"..." Sylas remained silent.
Looking into Gwendolyn's hopeful eyes, he ultimately yielded.
He said softly, "I will do as you say, My Lady."
"When no one is around, you can call me Gwendolyn."
Sylas's expression softened slightly. He brought his face closer and said quietly, "Then... Gwendolyn, you must never give me away to someone else again."
Gwendolyn: "I won't."
Sylas mustered his courage, leaned in, and prepared to kiss her.
Gwendolyn instantly panicked. Her eyes darted away. "Sylas, not now, please? Wait until I'm better. I will marry you openly and properly then."
Hearing her promise weighed heavily on Sylas's heart.
But he still leaned in resolutely and kissed her.
He always felt danger was approaching.
If he missed this chance, he might never get to kiss her again.
Gwendolyn slowly closed her eyes.
Both were full of feeling yet restrained.
After a brief, gentle kiss, Sylas straightened up. "I'll sleep outside then."
Gwendolyn's gaze was soft. She reminded him, "Use a thick blanket."
"Alright." Sylas lifted her hand and kissed it.
Then he quietly walked towards the door.
A smile curved Gwendolyn's lips. She felt immensely happy.
The bedroom door closed.
Suddenly, Sylas felt something wrong with his body.
Before he could say anything, his legs gave way, and he sat heavily on the floor.
He turned, wanting to open the bedroom door.
But a small, jade-like hand covered his mouth.
Mirabel's voice whispered in his ear.
"Can't control yourself again, can you?"
"Mmph..." Sylas couldn't speak.
Mirabel didn't do much else. She pressed close to Sylas's ear and said in a thin voice, "Don't struggle. If Auntie Gwendolyn sees you like this, would she still like you?"
Sylas shuddered. He looked at Mirabel in terror.
Then, he realized his body was no longer under his control.
He was becoming delirious with desire again.
He stared at Mirabel in despair and whispered with grief and indignation, "Is this all you're capable of? Going back on your word, bullying the weak?"
"I'll bully you if I want to." Mirabel said carelessly, grabbing his arm with a wicked smile. "Well? Do you want the door opened? I can help you."
"Shameless..."
Thump!
Sylas was hauled up and pressed against the door.
"What's going on?" Gwendolyn asked from inside, sounding worried.