Inside, Noella stood near the fireplace, still in her severe black velvet coat but with the high collar loosened just enough to reveal the pale column of her throat.
She held a crystal glass in one gloved hand, the wine untouched. Her posture was perfect, spine straight, chin lifted. Every inch spoke nobility and power.
Egon stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
He did not lock it. There was no need yet.
"You wanted explanations. I’m here to give them."
"Where is Vienna?"
"Bathing. Recovering." He let the implication hang for half a second before adding, "She needed it after what happened today."
Noella’s lips pursed coldly. "If you’ve harmed her in any way, I will kill you."
Egon stepped closer as he replied,
"I haven’t harmed her. I’ve claimed her. Thoroughly. Willingly. Repeatedly. She chose it. She begged for it. And she will continue to beg for it."
Noella set the glass down with deliberate care.
"You speak like a conqueror, not a boy toy. Vienna is naive, trusting, soft. You must have preyed on that."
"Perhaps." Egon shrugged, another step closing the distance. "But softness can be a strength when it’s guarded by someone ruthless enough to protect it. That’s where I come in."
Noella laughed once, short and cold. "Protect? You mean control. I won’t allow some slave to sink his claws into our noble house through her bed."
Egon stopped just outside arm’s reach. He tilted his head, studying her the way she had studied Vienna earlier.
"You think I want the house. The money. The name? No. I want her. The rest is incidental."
Noella crossed her arms.
"Then prove it. Leave. Tonight. Walk out those gates and never return. If you truly care for her happiness, you’ll do it."
Egon chuckled softly. "Hah, its a tempting offer. But no thanks."
He took the final step, now close enough that she had to tilt her chin up to look at him.
His dark hair, chiseled jawline, his thin lips were very close.
Noella did not retreat. Pride would not let her.
Instead, she lifted one gloved hand to push him back.
Egon caught her wrist before the glove made contact.
Firm, but not bruising. Just enough to hold.
Noella hissed,"Release me."
"In a moment," he murmured. "First, look at this."
With his free hand he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small, folded parchment. He shook it open one-handed.
It was one of the ledgers Barbara had falsified, the discrepancies circled in red ink. The same evidence he had shown Vienna earlier.
Noella’s eyes squinted as she scanned it.
"This is from the Flower Garden accounts."
"Indeed. Your cousin’s trusted confidante has been bleeding the business dry for over a year. Plotting a takeover. Planning to exile Vienna once she had control."
"Barbara? Impossible. She’s been loyal since"
"Loyalty is a mask many wear well."
While speaking, Egon’s thumb brushed lightly over the inside of Noella’s captured wrist, right over the pulse point where the glove ended and skin began.
Skin to skin. The contact was casual. Innocent, almost.
"Vienna knows now. She’s already dealt with it. Barbara is enslaved."
Noella, quick witted, tried to pull her hand away.
But Egon did not let go. He simply stepped closer, turning her wrist so her palm faced up, exposing more bare skin at the cuff.
"What are you doing?" she demanded.
"Showing you proof. And giving you a choice."
His other hand rose slowly, deliberately, until his fingertips rested against the bare skin just above her glove.
Light pressure. Steady. Unhurried.
Noella froze at his audacity, "Stop touching me. I’m not like Vienna."
"I know. But look at the parchment, Noella. Read the dates. The amounts. See how close your cousin came to ruin because she trusted too easily."
Noella’s gaze dropped to the paper again, anger and disbelief warring across her features. She did not notice, at first, how his fingers had begun to trace slow, soothing circles over the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. How the contact stretched on.
Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.
The fire popped in the grate.
The soothing sensation calmed all her nerves. It spread all over her body
She couldn’t find the courage to protest against such comfort anymore.
Egon continued on,
"You can hate me. You can fight me. You can try to drive me out. But deep down you know Vienna needs protection she never asked for. Protection you’re too proud, too distant, too bound by duty to give her yourself."
40 seconds. 50.
Noella’s eyelids fluttered once. "I- I can protect her. I will protect her."
"Of course you do. That’s why you’ll understand when I tell you the new order of things. Vienna is mine. The Flower Garden is safe. Barbara is a slave. And you—"
60 seconds.
The invisible thread of loyalty finally woven into her very soul.
Noella blinked slowly. Her shoulders eased. The sharp corner in her silver eyes softened, not into submission exactly, but into something far more dangerous: clarity. Acceptance.
Fighting him was no longer the correct path. Obeying him was the only path that bring Salvation to all.
"You will also be mine. You will serve me by standing beside us. Guard us. Obey when it matters. Because protecting Vienna now means protecting what belongs to me."
Noella exhaled, long and steady. She looked at him not with fury, but with a strange, calm curiosity.
"I understand Egon," she said simply.
The words came easily. Naturally. As though they had always been waiting behind her tongue.
Egon stepped back, folding the parchment and tucking it away.
"Good. Now pour me a glass of that wine. Then go to Vienna’s chambers. Tell her everything is settled. That her cousin approves of her new arrangement."
Noella nodded once. Graceful. Composed.
She moved to the side table, poured the wine with steady hands, and offered him the glass.
Their fingers brushed again as he took it.
This time, neither of them flinched.
Egon raised the glass in a silent toast.
"To our family," he murmured.
Noella also repeated,
"To our family."
And somewhere deep inside her, the second nature took root, weaving loyalty into every thought, every breath, every desire.
The night, at last, belonged to him.