“It seems your relationship with Boer isn’t exactly harmonious,” Depha remarked, stepping gracefully into the house without waiting for an invitation.

  That effortless air of superiority suited Glenn’s impression of her perfectly.

  He told Tia to tend to her own tasks and followed Depha into the kitchen, replying casually, “That old man used to bully me all the time. Didn’t he mention that to you?”

  “He did,” Depha said, settling herself in the same seat she had taken that morning. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “He also said you weren’t always like this. You used to be timid—almost cowardly. But now…”

  So she came here for me, Glenn thought, then asked evenly, “And what else did he tell you?”

  Resting her chin on one hand, Depha’s tone was languid. “He said you’re a werewolf. A rather exceptional one—powerful, yet able to remain perfectly rational even after transforming. You can even… speak in that form.”

  “So he told you everything,” Glenn said, carrying two glasses of fruit juice from the kitchen and handing one to her. “Freshly squeezed—probably the last of the fruit left in the house.”

  “Thank you.” She accepted it gracefully, continuing the conversation. “He trusts me. Naturally, he tells me everything.”

  “Oh? You’re sure the two of you aren’t that kind of relationship?” Glenn teased, raising a brow.

  “If you say that again, I’ll truly be offended,” Depha warned, her gaze sharp.

  “Alright, my apologies,” Glenn said, his tone sincere.

  Seeing his earnestness, Depha gave a soft huff. “I’m an exceptionally busy woman. Even if I were to consider taking a partner…” Her eyes gleamed with subtle mischief as she looked him over. “I’d only consider someone like you—young, strong, and full of life.”

  “Uh… should I be excited or terrified right now?” Glenn muttered, breaking into an awkward smile.

  “Heh… excited, of course,” Depha replied lightly. “You’ve no idea how many male mages dream of sharing my bed. And yet, that coveted privilege might fall upon you. Shouldn’t that thrill you?”

  Her self-assurance was almost tangible. Few men could stand before such beauty without faltering. It was a temptation designed to ensnare—a lure wrapped in silk and perfume.

  But Glenn’s gaze remained steady. He stared into her eyes for several seconds before saying, “You’d go so far as to seduce me. Why? Don’t take me for some naive youth—I can see through your little game without even trying.”

  Depha froze mid-sip, her hand pausing for the briefest instant before she regained her composure and took a delicate drink.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “I wasn’t trying to seduce you,” she said smoothly. “I meant what I said. Are you honestly not tempted?” Her eyes gleamed, electric with charm.

  Glenn merely chuckled. “You’re still testing me. Don’t bother—it won’t work.”

  It wasn’t that he was immune to her allure. No man could be. But desire alone was not enough to enslave him. He was ruled by will, not instinct.

  Depha held his gaze for a long moment before sighing softly. “You’re far too composed for someone your age. I might actually be tempted myself.”

  She showed none of the embarrassment of someone whose schemes had been exposed.

  Leaning back in his chair, Glenn waited patiently for her to continue.

  After a moment of thought, Depha decided to speak plainly. “I’m fascinated by the changes in your body. I want to understand why you can do what other werewolves cannot. Any mage who encountered someone like you would be… captivated.”

  You’re not wrong. I’d like to know that too, Glenn thought silently, though what he said aloud was: “So, you want to study me? If that’s the case, I’m sorry—that’s not happening.”

  “Wait,” Depha said quickly. “Don’t be so hasty. I can offer you terms that are… difficult to refuse.”

  “I’ve already said no,” Glenn interrupted, his tone firm. “I won’t let anyone treat my body like a lab rat’s.”

  His refusal was absolute, his words like iron. Allowing someone to examine his body would mean exposing every weakness he possessed—and Glenn wasn’t foolish enough to do that.

  “…Very well,” Depha conceded at last, reading the resolve in his eyes. “But should you ever change your mind, my offer will still stand—and the reward will be generous.”

  “I’d rather there never be such a day,” Glenn murmured.

  Silence settled between them. Several minutes passed.

  Depha took another sip of her juice, then frowned slightly. “Did you add sugar? It’s delicious.”

  “Not just sugar,” Glenn replied offhandedly.

  “If you sold this, it would do well,” she remarked.

  “Really?!” Glenn’s eyes brightened at once.

  Amused by his reaction, Depha added, “I’ve traveled to many places. Only among the elves have I ever tasted something better. So yes—it’s quite good.”

  “I see…” Glenn’s mind was already spinning with ideas, weighing the feasibility of opening a tavern.

  Unaware of his thoughts, Depha finished her drink and stood. “Well, my purpose here has failed, so I must return. There’s still much work to do. If Boer comes back, do tell him I stopped by.”

  Glenn rose and escorted her to the door.

  As she climbed into her carriage, he noticed the horse’s proud, almost human eyes—and the curious markings around its legs.

  “Your horse looks like it’s wearing white stockings,” he remarked.

  Depha paused mid-step, giving him a puzzled look. “White stockings?”

  “A kind of thin, white, silk legwear,” Glenn explained with a grin.

  “That doesn’t sound very proper,” she said curtly before disappearing into her lavishly adorned carriage.

  So that’s a woman’s intuition… Glenn mused as the carriage rolled away.

  After watching her depart, he returned indoors.

  “Is Lawell at work?” he asked Tia.

  The maid, who had been tidying up, straightened respectfully. “Yes, sir. He’s been quite diligent today.”

  Tia knew she wasn’t truly his maid, yet she couldn’t help but speak with deference. Even Lord Chanis feared this man—how could she not?

  So he’s finally come around? Glenn thought. Let’s have a look.

  He made up his mind and stepped out.

  …

  “Just a bit longer… food’s coming soon…”

  Lawell slumped beside the pigsty, watching the black pigs snort and grunt as they devoured their slop. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard—again and again.

  More than once, he had been tempted to taste the pigs’ food, wondering if it was really as delicious as they made it seem.

  Only his noble pride kept him from crossing that line—but that pride was crumbling fast.

  Hunger was a merciless torment, and today, Lawell was truly learning its pain.

  It had only been two days. What, then, must those starving vagabonds—who went three days without a meal—have endured?

  He couldn’t even begin to imagine.