Chapter 1322
Violet observed the group. Two were shorter, stocky, and muscular, with unusually thick arms and bulging neck veins. The other three were taller, their breathing normal, yet their shoes were remarkably clean—suggesting practice with Silent Force, a type of internal martial art. Mastering Silent Force allowed precise breath control. Violet suspected their skills were considerable.
"Do you know martial arts?" she asked.
They all shook their heads, their sincerity seemingly genuine. "No."
Violet swiftly punched the shorter man. His eyes flickered with alarm, then closed in fear. The brief flash revealed an instinctive martial artist's reaction, though he admirably controlled himself, not raising a hand to block. This was telling; even a non-martial artist would instinctively try to block a sudden face punch. His inaction spoke volumes.
Violet smiled faintly and left. The group exchanged a cold glance and slowly retreated.
Chaya watched from a distance, her expression conflicted—a blend of hope and fear, a stark contrast to her earlier composure.
Violet and the others were quartered near Emerald Hall, Hayden's courtyard—a rose-filled section of the estate, aptly named Rose Hall. A thin wall separated them; those with sharp hearing could likely overhear conversations from Emerald Hall, especially loud ones. Chaya also resided in Emerald Hall, though not in the same room. Initially, Eleanor had sent her as a concubine, but Hayden, uninterested, kept her as a casual companion to alleviate his boredom. She had her own quarters but had recently been staying in Emerald Hall, according to servants.
Living there, Violet sensed a strange atmosphere hanging over Willowbrook Estate. At night, many seemed to patrol. Bun had also noticed shadowy figures moving in the distance. The nighttime tension starkly contrasted the daytime's lightheartedness. Violet couldn't pinpoint the source of this heavy atmosphere, but an invisible killing intent seemed to permeate even her bedchamber. During the day, they observed the estate's inhabitants, all appearing well-rested, including the five individuals Violet had observed the previous night—showing no signs of nocturnal activity. Willowbrook Estate, it seemed, housed numerous people.
The group split up. Violet explored the gardens, seeking unfamiliar faces. Bun went to the kitchen, inspecting provisions. The abundance of grains and meats—enough to feed over a hundred—surprised him. He asked the cook, "Why so many supplies? How many days' worth is this?"
The cook smiled. "Just for today, my lord. His Highness prefers fresh food."
Bun raised an eyebrow. "Then why so much?"
"The servants must eat too," the cook replied.
Bun felt confused. The servants ate the same food as the master? The quantity and variety of vegetables, meats, fish, and shrimp were identical.
As Violet strolled, she noticed each courtyard gate meticulously clean, as if regularly used, yet all were closed. She asked Chaya about opening them, but Chaya lacked the keys. Without hesitation, Violet climbed the wall, peering inside. The inner doors were also shut; the gardens were overgrown with weeds, except for a stone-paved path.
"Ms. Spencer, what are you doing?" A worried voice called from behind.
Gordon, the elderly steward, hurried towards her, followed by Hayden's trusted man, Sonny. Gordon looked genuinely concerned, even reaching out as if to catch her. "Quickly get down. Be careful!"
Violet smiled faintly. "Gordon, can this gate be opened?"
"Of course," Gordon replied warmly. "If you wish to enter, simply ask me for the key. Why climb like this? It's dangerous." He produced keys and handed them to Chaya. "Here, open the gate for Ms. Spencer."
Chaya unlocked the gate; the hinges creaked, suggesting long disuse. Violet jumped down—she could have entered without the keys. Inside, the musty scent confirmed her suspicions of long abandonment. She checked several rooms, finding similar conditions—unoccupied and neglected.