His face was cold, a familiar coldness to me.

The duke often said that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Therefore, he would intently observe someone’s eyes to check if the spells had taken effect.

Initially, I didn’t fully understand this, but as I grew older, it became clear.

The cloth covering the servants’ faces was so thin and light that it often fluttered in the wind or when doors closed, revealing their faces beneath.

Inadvertently, I had seen the faces of these servants several times, and their eyes resembled those of corpses submerged in water. Empty, devoid of light, like dead fish with dark, sunken eyes.

Unsurprisingly, Zachary’s eyes were no different. Whether due to the spell or his pre-awakened state, contrary to descriptions of bright blue light with strong magical power, his eyes were a deep color, heavily sunken like an abyss. Who could believe that his soul was still alive upon seeing these eyes?

I couldn’t believe it either.

The idea that a mere teenager, subjected to brutal brainwashing for over two months, could retain his self? Even after witnessing it with my own eyes, it was hard to believe. Yet, I had an intuition that Zachary had not completely succumbed to the brainwashing.

“Can you hear me now?”

I leaned forward while holding the paper. Creaking softly, I found myself kneeling on the bed, slightly taller than Zachary, who was still standing awkwardly. His pale face, half-shadowed in the flickering light, showed no response. He neither trembled his hand as before nor blinked.

But still, I was certain that Zachary was listening to my words.

“You’ve been through a lot.”

It frustrated me that I could only say so much. I never considered my lack of eloquence a flaw until today, when it felt deeply regrettable.

“Thank you for trusting me and trying to communicate.”

Although his only visible response was the minute trembling of his fingertips, I couldn’t begin to imagine the effort it took for him to do even that. The memory of him greeting me with his whole body when we first met felt like a distant dream.

But that meeting was not a dream. He didn’t just hear my words and forget them. He remembered them, pretended to succumb to the spells while enduring them. Even when dominated to the point of not controlling his own body, he managed to preserve that slight movement of his fingertips.

It was a subtle motion, easy to miss without careful attention, but it was enough to rescue me from my despair.

How could such a miracle exist?

Overwhelmed with emotion, I grabbed Zachary, still with an expressionless face like a doll, and pulled him towards me. As soon as I let go of the magical paper, it fluttered back to cover his face.

His body was completely wrapped in bandages and felt rigid. Perhaps not programmed to respond to such an embrace, he stood stiffly, arms awkwardly hanging in the air, making our posture somewhat comical.

If someone saw us, they might laugh or shiver in unease. His body was so cold and rigid, it felt like hugging a mannequin.

But in that moment of embrace, I sensed something different from before.

Zachary Thaddeus’ soul was resonating. Though hidden and huddled in his damaged, small body, it was still beating.

Feeling the slow pulse emanating from our touching chests, I made a promise.

“Your heart rate has increased.”

I resolved to restore him to his original self, no matter what.

His rapidly beating heart, as if begging to be recognized, reinvigorated my faltering spirit. I was determined to bring him back, lifting my head with this newfound resolve.

“Your tongue. It hasn’t been cut, right?”

I wanted to check inside his mouth.

Many servants were rendered unable to speak. Especially those who knew sensitive information often had their tongues cut out entirely. Usually, the tongue was sealed with spells, but in some severe cases of indiscretion, the duke would physically remove the tongue as punishment.

“If it’s just sealed, not cut, that would be good.”

While unraveling the spells on his body was important, the immediate priority was his mouth. If his mouth could open, we could exchange information through conversation.

Anxiously, I tapped his lips as if to signal him to open them, but there was no response.

“Quickly. I just want to check if it’s sealed and see the pattern.”

The duke knew the chaos it would cause if Zachary’s existence became known. So, it was likely he had sealed Zachary’s voice to prevent any disturbances. It seemed they hadn’t had time to alter his face due to my ill health, opting instead for the strange bandages.

Pressing his lips with my finger, they showed no sign of naturally parting, remaining firmly closed. I had to verbally prompt him.

“Open up.”

Really, he hasn’t lost his tongue, has he? If it’s missing, it’s hard to replace…

In the original story, the awakened Zachary had no issues speaking, so his tongue should be intact. But I wanted to be sure.

“Huh? Open up.”

Why isn’t he opening his mouth? Did the duke command him not to show the spells to anyone? What should I do then? I need to understand the other spells on him, but if he refuses to show them…

“Wait, just a moment, a moment, a moment. Why… why… are you opening your legs? Hey. Hey!”

Suddenly, I remembered a training point about complying with the master’s desires, even sexual ones. Embarrassed, I quickly returned his legs to their original position.

This is crazy.

Of course, he wouldn’t have that intention, but I was quite flustered. Moreover, why would he even open his legs in the first place, being a male…?

“It’s a misunderstanding.”

I quickly clarified to Zachary.

“It’s not like that. Don’t think anything weird. I just wanted to check if your tongue was there, so just open your… yeah, like that.”

Fortunately, this time he seemed to understand my request to ‘open his mouth,’ and Zachary’s lips slowly parted. Just as I was about to get a closer look at the spell inside his mouth, a brief knock was followed by the door swinging open.

Only the duke and my mother could enter my room with a simple knock.

If it were my mother, it would be better, but if the duke entered, he might realize I was trying to uncover the spells. I turned my head with a pale face.

“Excuse me, I need to check something right now…”

The voice was neither the duke’s nor my mother’s, but a stranger’s. The heavy, husky baritone voice trailed off abruptly.

As I slowly shifted my gaze, I saw a tall figure standing awkwardly at the door, frozen. He was much taller than the duke. His face was youthful, but his body was robust as if fully grown. His unfamiliar appearance left me briefly puzzled until I noticed the distinct silver hair and bright gray eyes, a clear indication of his lineage.

…Erhan?

He looked too grown to be the same child from my memories. His face retained its delicate, doll-like features, but his body had grown significantly. Surprised by his sudden appearance, I stared blankly at him, then realized why his expression was so odd. Following his gaze to Zachary and myself, I froze.

Me, half-opening Zachary’s mouth covered with paper.

Zachary, kneeling gracefully in front of me.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

Despite my hasty denial, I had seen it.

Erhan, pale and trembling, looking at me with wide eyes.

“It’s, it’s really not.”

Why am I stammering…?

I felt so foolish that I couldn’t even sigh. The silence felt like an hour instead of a second.

In that silence, I took another look at Erhan.

I had often imagined a reunion with Erhan. Since seeing him at five years old, he seemed to avoid coming to Serpentine House, spending vacations at a nearby villa or visiting the duke at other estates. He hadn’t shown his face here, the main house, since he was eight, up until now, at seventeen.

I always thought we would meet someday, but I never imagined a reunion under such misleading circumstances. I turned my head and closed Zachary’s jaw, who still sat motionless with his mouth open. Initially flustered, Erhan seemed to regain his composure as he quietly observed the scene.

‘He has grown so much. Do people usually grow this fast at that age?’

Erhan had always been precocious, even as a child. His face still had youthful features, but at seventeen, his height made him look more like an adult.

He watched my face intently for a while, then slowly blinked. The slight sunlight filtering in made his eyelashes glisten as he spoke.

“You’ve grown up just the same.”