Chapter 40

Xander Cavendish was second only to the king, commanding power and respect above all others. Even the king himself had to show him deference. Three years ago, he led troops into battle. When he returned, he was gravely poisoned and slipped into a coma from which he never awoke.

Despite the best efforts of countless imperial physicians, no cure could be found. Now, his condition had worsened; he was teetering on the edge of death.

As soon as Nicolas received the news, he immediately dismissed the remaining guests from the estate. As a court official, it was his duty to pay a visit. But Xander was known for his aloof, cold nature. He disliked company and preferred to keep people at arm's length. Anyone who had ever met him seemed to share the same impression—cold as ice.

There had once been a time when crime in Pidence City ran rampant. Theft was everywhere, and the city guards couldn't keep up. Pidence Guards tried everything but still failed to capture the culprits. Xander, furious, issued a deadly ultimatum: if the thieves weren't caught within three days, the guards would pay with their heads. The Pidence Guards went three days and nights without sleep before finally catching the thieves.

That incident had left a lasting impression on Matthew. Ever since, just hearing Xander's name was enough to make him uneasy.

Eloise, meanwhile, wore a puzzled expression. She had heard that Xander was gravely ill, but she wondered, "How has it escalated to critical in just a few short days?"

There was no time to dwell on it. She quickly turned to Nicolas and said, "Go now—and make sure to bring proper gifts. The duke's estate cannot afford to lose face."

Nicolas nodded. "Understood, Mother."

Then his eyes landed on Matthew, who was still standing there. His expression turned stern. "Why are you still standing around? Go change your clothes."

Matthew had always favored bright, eye-catching colors. Combined with his striking looks, his style only enhanced his charm. But visiting someone on their deathbed called for something more subdued.

Snapped out of his daze by Nicolas's glare, he turned and hurried back to his courtyard. As soon as he stepped through the door, he called out to his maid, Brigitte Walters. "Quick, find me a plain robe. Something appropriate."

"Yes, Lord Matthew," Brigitte responded, rushing to open the wardrobe. Inside were rows of brightly colored robes in rich patterns—plenty of flash, but very little subtlety.

After searching for a moment, she finally pulled out a simple, understated robe. "Wear this one." It was made from high-quality silk, expertly stitched with refined craftsmanship.

But the moment Matthew saw it, his brows drew together. "Why that one? Isn't there anything else?"

Brigitte looked genuinely confused. "This robe was a gift from Lady Athena. You've never worn it—it's been sitting in the back of the wardrobe. Is there something wrong with it?"

Of course, there was.

Matthew frowned. That robe had been a gift from Athena, given to him on the day he received his first official appointment. He had dismissed it immediately for being too plain, and it had stayed in the back of the closet ever since.

At the time, he had even mocked her, saying, "This fabric is so cheap, the stitching so crude. How could you think this suits me? Even a beggar would turn it down."

Athena had flushed with embarrassment but still offered a gentle smile and said, "Sorry, Matthew, I'm not very skilled yet. Maybe I'll do better next time."

He'd scoffed, tossed the robe aside, and never looked at it again. Now, ironically, it was the only suitable option.

Brigitte was still waiting for instructions. Matthew hesitated, then clenched his jaw and said, "Fine. I'll wear it."

The other plain robes were either poorly made or didn't fit. This one, though simple, was clearly tailored and made with care. Understated, yes—but tasteful and dignified.

Once he put it on, he was surprised by how well it fit. The silk was smooth and breathable, draping comfortably across his frame and subtly accenting his tall, well-built figure.

Brigitte couldn't stop marveling. "Lady Athena's hands are truly gifted. Just look at the cloud patterns embroidered in silver on the cuffs—even the finest embroiderers couldn't produce such delicate work."

"You're awfully talkative today," Matthew said sharply.

Startled, Brigitte immediately fell silent, wondering if she'd said something wrong. But she had only spoken after reading Matthew's expression—he had clearly looked pleased.

Athena walked toward Snowdrop Wing, accompanied by Ray. Neither of them spoke along the way.

Eventually, Athena broke the silence. "Thank you, Your Highness, for stepping in earlier."

Ray raised an eyebrow, a faintly amused smile tugging at his lips. But there was a hint of displeasure in his eyes as he looked at her.

"That's not what you used to call me."

He hadn't been quiet for lack of words—he'd just been lost in thought. Thinking about her.

The girl who used to run after him, calling him "Ray," had changed so much she was almost unrecognizable. She was too quiet now. So quiet it bothered him.

He used to love her cheerful, spirited nature. Being around her felt easy, like all his worries disappeared. But today, seeing her like this, left him with doubts. She had changed—grown distant and silent.

He had wanted to talk to her. More accurately, he had been waiting for her to talk to him. But after all this time, all he got from her was a formal "Your Highness."

Athena looked up at him and caught the confusion in his eyes—those famously expressive, fox-like eyes of his. She frowned slightly, and even the tiny mole at the corner of her eye seemed to darken with melancholy.

Ray's features were striking—so finely carved they could put most women to shame. Perhaps it was the air of authority that came with his status, but his gaze always seemed to carry a quiet intensity, a kind of pressure that made people instinctively straighten up.

Athena couldn't help but reflect—how the once beautiful young boy she knew had become a powerful nobleman. And with status, his world had changed. She thought, "How could I still call him 'Ray' like before?"

She offered him a faint smile. "I was just a child back then, didn't know any better. Now that I've grown up..."

Ray sighed quietly, a hint of regret in his voice. "I rather liked it when you didn't know better."

His words were soft, but Athena heard them clearly. She played dumb. "What do you mean, Your Highness?"

"Nothing," he replied. "Come on."

He didn't walk ahead. Instead, he matched her pace, staying right beside her.

Though questions swirled in Athena's mind, she had no idea how to begin. Luckily, they soon arrived at her courtyard. At the gate, she bowed politely. "Thank you for walking me back, Your Highness."

But Ray didn't leave. Instead, he looked at her and said, "Get ready, I'm taking you somewhere."

"Where?" Athena blinked, surprised. Her wide eyes were filled with confusion. She thought, "We aren't close enough for something like this… are we?"

His tone was calm, but firm. "You'll see."

There was no room to argue. She had no choice but to go inside and change.

When she entered her room, Trina was already waiting, her face full of worry. "My lady, this is all my fault." As her maid, it was Trina's duty to protect her. Letting Athena get hurt was a failure she couldn't forgive herself for.

She moved to bow in apology, but Athena quickly stopped her. "This wasn't your fault. Now hurry and find me something to wear—I have to go out."

Trina didn't dare delay; in no time, she brought out a pale blue gown.

After changing, Athena stepped outside. And there, just outside the gate, Ray was still waiting. The moment he saw her, he visibly froze.