Lucas fell silent for a moment, staring at the strange glint in Silvara's eyes. The woman clearly wanted to do it. Whether out of curiosity, her expression was unmistakably insistent. Damn it… if I tease her again, she'll probably sulk for no clear reason.

Feeling guilty for having already troubled her with the bandaging of his thigh earlier—and remembering that Silvara had practically seen everything—Lucas finally let out a resigned sigh.

"Alright," Lucas murmured softly, lowering his hands. "Do it."

Without wasting any time, Silvara stepped forward. Both of her hands reached out, immediately circling Lucas's neck. Her slender yet strong fingers pressed against the vital points there—a forceful method to trigger his facial transformation mechanism.

"Ugh…" Lucas let out a restrained groan as the pressure increased.

Silvara was not fooling around. She applied the pressure with precision, yet her face moved closer instead. Her eyes were locked onto Lucas's face, which was beginning to redden as his oxygen supply was restricted. Silvara's own breathing grew rough and uneven. She bit down on her lower lip, staring at Lucas with an intensity that was hard to describe—a mixture of focus, tension, and adrenaline.

To an outsider unaware of the context, the position looked very… wrong.

Silvara held her breath.

What stood before her now was no longer the familiar face she usually saw, but her master's true features—rarely exposed. Jet-black hair fell messily across his forehead, stark against his pale skin. A pair of eyes with pitch-black pupils stared back at her. Silvara's gaze then drifted down to Lucas's jaw, which now appeared far firmer and sharper than before.

The atmosphere in the room shifted drastically. The air felt thin.

Silvara swallowed, her eyes locked on Lucas's lips and jaw. Unconsciously, her white teeth pressed into her own lower lip, biting down lightly as if suppressing a strange surge in her chest. Her hand on Lucas's neck trembled slightly from the intense sensation of touching him in his true form.

Lucas himself was frozen, his heart pounding as he took in Silvara's expression—so… hungry?

"Silvara…" Lucas whispered hoarsely.

Just as the tension peaked and Silvara's face drew even closer—

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

The sound of knocking slammed into the silence like a sledgehammer.

Before they could even pull away, the door swung open wide.

"Lucian, I heard that you—"

The Baroness stood rigid in the doorway. Her sentence died instantly.

The scene before her was the very definition of ambiguous chaos.

Lucas sat there with his chest heaving, breathing heavily as if he had just finished some intense and oddly pleasurable physical activity.

Meanwhile, Silvara had just hastily withdrawn her hands from Lucas's neck and was standing far too close, her face flushed a deep crimson.

Silence.

The wind drifted in through the window, yet no one dared to speak.

The Baroness's gaze moved slowly—from her son, panting with a reddened face, to Silvara, who looked like a thief caught red-handed, then back to her son again.

By the gods… the Baroness thought, massaging her suddenly throbbing temples. What in the world was going on?

She even forgot that her original purpose had been to check on her son's injury. Seeing her son's almost submissive posture and Silvara's dominating position, the Baroness felt that Lucas's physical health was a secondary concern compared to the moral health crisis unfolding here.

The Baroness let out a long, very long sigh, then decided to completely ignore Lucas. She turned to Silvara.

"Silvara," the Baroness called. Her tone was not angry, but filled with deep concern.

Silvara jolted, her shoulders tensing. "Y-Yes, My Lady?"

The Baroness looked at Silvara for a few seconds longer, then let out a quiet sigh.

"Silvara," she said at last. "Step outside for now."

Silvara was startled for a moment, then immediately lowered her head. "Yes, My Lady."

She glanced at Lucas briefly—quick, almost reflexive—then walked toward the door. Her posture returned to being neat and formal, as if what had just happened had never occurred.

"Excuse me," she said politely before closing the door from the outside.

The room fell silent once more.

Lucas swallowed. His chest still felt heavy, but his thoughts were already racing elsewhere.

The Baroness turned to face him.

His heart pounded hard. His mind leapt straight to a possibility he did not want to face.

Did she catch a glimpse of my real face?

Right after Silvara released the choke—

Lucas stiffened at once.

"Lucian Voss," she called.

Lucian?

"Never," the Baroness said, cutting through his thoughts, "use body-enhancing potions like that again."

Lucas froze.

That wasn't it?

He drew in a long, slow breath, then let it out in relief.

"…Yes, Mother," he replied obediently. "I understand."

The Baroness studied his face, as if making sure there was no hidden resistance. Then her expression softened—just a little.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly. "If all this time you didn't know… that your father and I can fight."

Lucas raised an eyebrow slightly. Internally, he already knew. The Baroness had said something similar during the bandit attack incident before. That was precisely what made him think.

Then why… was Lucian never told?

"I know it sounds strange," the Baroness continued. "But I only wanted to live peacefully. Far from violence. From that world."

She sat down on the chair beside Lucas's bed, her hands clasped together.

"I chose this path," she said softly. "And because of that… our life became what it is now. Simple. Even poor, perhaps."

The Baroness lowered her head slightly.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "If my decision made your life difficult."

Lucas looked at her without any expression.

Inside his mind, his thoughts were cold and honest.

This is excessive.

Unhealthy.

No wonder Lucian grew up to be… worthless.

Too much was hidden. Too much pity. Too many one-sided decisions wrapped in the word "protection."

Still, he did not look down on the Baroness.

He had seen many mothers like this—overprotective, afraid of loss, and unknowingly destructive. The Baroness simply happened to be one of them. Not malicious. Just someone whose path had been set in that direction by fate.

Lucas let out a short breath.

Then he chose to play the role.

"If that's the case," he said flatly, his voice turning cold, "I'm disappointed in this family."

The Baroness flinched. "Lucian—"

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