Chapter 50

Earn’s POV

The mansion was too quiet.

My footsteps echoed along the polished hallway as I moved deeper inside, the sound bouncing off high ceilings and bare walls that seemed to swallow every trace of life. Queen Miu and I had arrived not long ago, yet the place felt as though it had been empty for years.

I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed under my breath.

“Seriously… where is she?” I muttered to myself.

Dr. Fahlada owned this entire estate—this enormous mansion that doubled as her laboratory—and yet there wasn’t a single servant in sight. No maids dusting shelves, no guards standing at posts, no assistants scurrying between rooms.

Nothing.

Just silence.

My boots clicked against the marble floor as I turned another corner, peering briefly into a study filled with towering bookshelves and stacks of documents. The faint smell of chemicals lingered in the air—sterile, sharp, unmistakably the scent of a laboratory.

But still, no doctor.

“How does someone live in a place this big alone?” I murmured, frowning.

A young woman, barely past her twenties at most, living in a mansion that could house an entire noble family—and yet she had no staff. No attendants. Not even a groundskeeper from the looks of it.

Strange.

The hallway eventually opened toward the back of the mansion. Pale sunlight spilled in through a pair of tall glass doors that led to the garden beyond.

I stepped outside.

Cool air brushed against my face, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and trimmed grass. The backyard stretched wide and quiet, bordered by tall hedges and old trees whose branches swayed gently in the wind.

And then—

A voice.

Soft. Distant.

I froze immediately.

My hand moved on instinct, resting against the grip of the gun at my hip. Years of training made the motion automatic—quiet, controlled, ready.

The voice came again. Low. Conversational.

Like someone speaking to another person.

I narrowed my eyes and began moving toward it, careful with each step. Gravel crunched faintly beneath my boots as I approached the far end of the garden where the trees grew thicker.

The figure came into view.

A woman.

Kneeling.

Two tombstones stood before her.

I slowed to a stop.

Dr. Fahlada.

She was kneeling in the grass, shoulders slightly hunched forward as if speaking intimately with the stones before her. Fresh flowers rested at the base of each grave, their petals bright against the dark soil.

“…I’ve been doing well,” she said softly.

The way she spoke wasn’t formal or stiff like when she addressed the Queen. Her voice was warmer now—gentler. Like she was speaking to someone who had known her long before titles and responsibilities.

“I know it’s been a while since my last visit,” she continued, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

The breeze shifted through the trees, stirring the grass around her.

“But things have been… good.”

A small chuckle escaped her lips then, quiet but genuine.

“I can already hear the two of you scolding me,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “Telling me I’m getting older and still haven’t married anyone.”

She paused, looking between the two stones as if expecting an answer.

From where I stood, I could see the way her shoulders relaxed as she spoke—like this place allowed her to drop whatever armor she carried outside.

“But… I’m sorry,” she murmured after a moment, her tone shifting.

Her fingers lightly brushed the edge of one of the gravestones.

“I don’t think I’ll follow that path.”

The wind rustled through the trees again.

“I want to follow your example instead.”

Her gaze lowered slightly.

“You both spent your lives trying to help people. Teaching, healing… making something meaningful out of the work you did.”

She drew in a quiet breath.

“I don’t want to waste my time chasing intimate matters when there’s still so much left to do.”

Her voice wasn’t cold when she said it.

Just certain.

“I want to make a difference.” She straightened slightly, her posture gaining quiet strength. “And now… I finally can.”

The pride in her voice was subtle but unmistakable.

“Serving as a doctor for the palace, Her Majesty trusts my research.” Her hand rested lightly against the gravestone again.

“I’m working on new medical advancements—things that could help the entire kingdom someday.”

A small smile returned to her lips.

“It’s exactly the kind of work that both of you envisioned.”

She exhaled slowly, the tension leaving her shoulders.

“So don’t worry about me.”

Her voice softened again.

“I’m doing well.”

I stood there quietly, feeling like an intruder in a moment that wasn’t meant for anyone else.

I exhaled slowly.

Yeah.

Definitely not something I should interrupt.

I began stepping back, careful not to make noise. The Queen could wait a few minutes longer. Whatever the doctor was doing here… it mattered.

I turned slightly, preparing to head back toward the mansion—

Then something caught my eye.

My steps stopped.

At first I thought it was just a shadow from the trees.

But as she shifted slightly while kneeling, the fabric of her vest pulled tighter across her shoulder blade—and the mark became clearer.

My jaw tightened.

A scar.

A burn scar.

The doctor was wearing a fitted vest suit, the fabric was dipping just enough that part of the mark was visible. Not fully exposed, but enough to make out its shape.

The skin there was uneven. Pale and warped compared to the rest.

And large.

Much larger than what I could actually see.

My eyes narrowed slightly.

Whatever caused that… it wasn’t small.

The visible edge alone told me the damage spread further beneath the fabric. Heat burns like that didn’t come from kitchen accidents or clumsy lab work.

That kind of scar came from something violent.

Something catastrophic.

“Earn?”

Queen Miu’s voice came from right behind my back.

My entire body jolted.

I spun around so fast my boots scraped against the grass. Before she could say another word, I shot her the sharpest glare I could manage and immediately raised a finger to my lips.

A very aggressive shh.

The Queen’s eyes widened.

Instantly, both of her hands flew up to cover her mouth, pressing over it as if she had just caught herself shouting in the middle of a library. She froze there, shoulders stiff, staring at me like a child who had just been scolded.

For a few long seconds, we stayed like that.

Me glaring at her like a guard ready to tackle someone.

And the new Queen of the kingdom standing there with both hands clamped over her mouth.

Behind us, Dr. Fahlada continued speaking softly, completely unaware that two people were lurking awkwardly behind her in the garden.

After a moment, Queen Miu slowly lowered her hands from her mouth. She blinked at me, confused, then silently mouthed a single word.

“Why?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I slowly tilted my head toward the direction behind me.

Her eyes followed the motion.

Queen Miu leaned slightly to the side, peeking past my shoulder.

That was when she saw Dr. Fahlada.

Miu’s expression softened immediately.

She didn’t say anything this time. Instead, she quietly studied the scene in front of her. Her gaze moved from the flowers to the names engraved on the tombstones, then finally back to the doctor herself.

Then her eyes narrowed slightly.

She noticed it.

The scar.

Miu slowly looked back at me.

I raised one eyebrow.

She gave a small nod in return.

We didn’t need words to agree on it.

We should leave her alone.

Miu carefully began turning around so we could slip away quietly and pretend we had never been here.

Everything was going smoothly.

Until she stepped onto a pile of dry leaves.

The loud crunch shattered the quiet garden.

Both of us froze instantly.

My eyes slowly slid toward the Queen.

She looked down at the leaves beneath her foot.

Then she looked back at me.

The expression on her face was the exact look someone makes when they realize they’ve just knocked over something very expensive.

Behind us, Dr. Fahlada’s voice abruptly stopped.

The sudden silence that followed was unbearable.

I closed my eyes for a brief second and exhaled through my nose.

Of course.

Of course this would happen.

Slowly—very slowly—I turned my head back toward the doctor, silently hoping that somehow, by some miracle, she hadn’t heard that.