Looking through the large painted window, Noah frowned and tried to stifle his dark thoughts with the beautiful scenery to no avail. His conversation with Pricilla Orten had been informative and disturbing in equal amounts, leaving his spirit restless. How much could he trust her words? But even more important - how much could he trust his feelings? There was enough resemblance in the shape of that girl’s face, in some notes of her voice, and in the color of her hair that reminded him of Lorelei. It made his heart quiver with rekindled yearning and shame, as memories, new and old, made themselves present. To see those beloved features on another person was both a punishment and a reward. And it also made him want to give the Lady of House Orten a chance at redemption.

Noah sighed again, trying to force his thoughts on the pressing problem at hand. Pricilla Orten was, in a way, a pitiful child. He had no doubt that at least the part about her initial relationship with his brother was the truth. Knowing Count Orten, that excuse-of-a-father was fully capable of beating up his daughter and selling her off to pleasure a man of power for his own gains. The part about the randy Orten welp was also likely not a lie. As the scene of Ronan Orten groping his sister in a dark corner played again in his mind, Noah cursed quietly, regretting he had only crushed the miscreant's manhood and not burnt the whole dirty den to the ground. No matter how much of Pricilla’s words were true, the Count and his rotten heir had destroyed two girls, worse, their own flesh and blood, due to selfishness, greed, and perverted desire.

‘I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, Your Highness.’ Pricilla’s teary words from just now still echoed in his mind. ‘I… I don’t want you to think… that I condemn my family. E-every family has its problems, right? Brother… he is sometimes confused, but he’s still young. That he sometimes touched me… or sister… it must be a mistake of youth. Playful curiosity gone slightly astray. Please, Your Highness, forget what I told you. I beg you! If you have any mercy for my sister and me, please don’t spread the word of our conversation or it will ruin our futures!’

There had been sadness and desperation in Pricilla’s familiar eyes, emotions he had witnessed all too often in the gaze of his lady. But there had also been something mixed between the shy glances, something he yearned to see coming from the one who held his heart. A want for protection, for someone to shield her from harm, give her warmth and love. As unbelievable as It seemed, Pricilla Orten desired him.

Lorelei had never looked at him like that. Her gaze, even in the most desperate situation, had been unexplainably calm. She never feared for herself, never pleaded for help, but only begged and acted for the wellbeing of others. As if her life was not of importance. As if she didn’t deserve love and affection. That damn household had shattered her and the pieces of her soul had been scattered by the winds of peril and desperation.

The realization made his blood boil. If Lorelei could only look at him like Pricilla did… he would lie down at her feet, a slave to her every whim. If she was to share her pain with him, he would burn the world and destroy everyone that had harmed her. He would hold her in his arms until her pain was gone. But she was a goddess of ice and mists - elusive to a mortal’s touch; a creature of fairytales and his personal lucid dream.

His imagination painted pictures of carnage and bliss, of vengeance and happiness. And as his mind was occupied by the chaos of daydreaming, his body gave its own wicked contribution to his agony. Ever since last night, he had difficulty reigning in its cravings. The closeness of flesh, the tantalizing forbidden fruit that had been denied to him, had shown him clearly the depths of his desires. Even now, in broad daylight, he could feel the heat of Lorelei’s body, the silky touch of her hair, the coldness of her fingers on his skin. The conversation with Pricilla had been like dangling a gourd of water inches away from a thirsting wretch stranded in an endless desert.

After meeting with the girl and talking to her, Noah was painfully aware that should he face Lorelei in his present condition, he’d most likely ruin any chances of redemption for his actions from last night. He had to wait a bit. Calm down. Give Lorelei an opportunity to collect her thoughts and feelings.

And until then, there was a task to do. It was a gamble. A move born of chance and desperation. A cruel act that would ruffle some feathers and would likely kill more than one bird with a single stone. But if he overcame this hurdle successfully, it would not only give him the upper hand in his perpetual game of cat and mouse, but also would grant him a new angle to reflect on his feelings. Or so he hoped. Otherways, he didn't want to think about the ensuing mess.

Uneven steps sounded behind Noah and William limped to his side. Dressed in unassuming servant's clothes, the Steward of Norden was unrecognizable compared to his glamorous appearance from last night’s banquet. Playing with the handle of his walking stick, he cleared his throat. In the reflection of the window, Noah could see his friend’s eyes piercing him.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No.”

“But you should!” William hammered the polished floor with the tip of the cane. “It’s too risky. And besides, you are completely unfit to do the job.”

“I’m so unreliable in your eyes?”

“In this case - absolutely! Come on, Noah, you and I both know that you are not cut for this.”

“And yet, I am the perfect bait since the initial trap is meant for-”

“Oh, please! I give you at most three days before you fail. You are too good-hearted for playing such games.”

“The Beast of Norden is?”

“Sadly, yes. And If you continue with this, you won’t be the only one hurt.”

“I’ve taken precautions. And I have you.”

“I can only do so much. You will be the one playing with someone’s heart. One wrong move-”

“One right move and the win is mine, Will. And that is what counts.”

“I’ll remind you about this the next time you face the Duchess.”