Elara was a noblewoman. Educated. Trained. She'd have 'abilities'—maybe merchant skills, political manipulation, information networks—even if she ran away and disguised but had noble upbringing.

And once Viktor took her to bed, Elara would gain 'everything'.

'Just by spreading her legs.'

Kaida's hands clenched into fists.

'She doesn't deserve it.'

The jealousy burned hot and irrational in her chest.

But beneath that—something worse.

'How fucking lucky can one person be?'

Elara looked exhausted. Terrified. Confused. But she was 'here' again even after running away.

That alone meant her fate was probably sealed.

Kaida's mouth twisted.

"Tch." She glared down at Elara, eyes narrowing. "You're too lucky."

Elara's head snapped up. Her amber eyes widened—then filled with something dark. Anger? Frustration?

'Lucky?' Elara's voice cracked. "You think I'm 'lucky?'"

She tried to push herself up, but her arms shook. She collapsed back onto her ass.

Kaida said nothing. Just stared.

Elara's hands clenched in her lap. She wanted to scream. To curse. To tell this woman exactly where she could shove her opinion.

But she couldn't.

Because she noticed something strange now.

'Huh? Did she wear some makeup?', Elara was too shocked to look up until now, from far away due to her eyesight she didn't notice but.

'Wh-why does she suddenly look so beautiful?'

There on the floor while Kaida's hand stretched at her like a prince helping a maiden made this whole scene look rather very awkward and wrong, specially how Elara felt her mouth hung agape seeing that Kaida definitely looked too different than what Elara could recall.

Already overwhelmed by everything—from arrival of that huge Tower to being caught back here and now this woman looking like some fairy with red hair and eyes.

"H-hey... Why you look—"

'MR. GARETH.'

The voice cut through Elara's questioning.

Her head turned.

Helena stood in front of Gareth.

Her hands were folded behind her wide hips. Her massive breasts heaved with each breath beneath her dress.

And her 'voice'—

Gone was the soft, deferential tone. The gentle nanny voice.

This was 'steel'.

"You," Helena said, each word clipped and precise, "were the one who brought Bella to this place that day. So I suggest you 'explain yourself.' Right. Now."

Gareth's head lifted slightly, greasy hair falling across his rat-like face. Sweat dripped from his nose.

'Huh? Isn't this Helena, what with her tone—', Already aware of her being Viktor's nanny, Gareth didn't think of her much but given how Elena's servants were to him, he acted at least hearing her out.

"Helena, I—I just followed orders, I swear—"

'Whose orders?'

"I—I can't—if I tell you, they'll—"

'Whose. Orders.'

Gareth trembled. His eyes darted toward Viktor—who stood with his back turned, still holding Bella, seemingly uninterested in the interrogation.

'Why the hell am I getting overwhelmed by this woman?'

"I..." Gareth's voice dropped to a whisper. "I will not tell anything to a mere nanny, go away."

"It seems you need to understand my position clearly, Mister Gareth." Helena took a step forward as she was already annoyed at how on first day here this guy even after being saved by young master had ran away leaving them alone here.

Gareth flinched, scrambling backward on his knees. "H-hey, wh-what's with you—"

Helena moved.

GRAB!

Her hand shot out, fingers closing around Gareth's collar. The fabric bunched in her grip.

And then she 'lifted'.

"Wwh-what—!?" Gareth's eyes bulged. His feet left the floor.

Helena—soft, maternal, kind Helena—'lifted his entire two-hundred-pound body with one hand'. Like he weighed nothing. Like he was a sack of grain she was considering tossing.

His legs kicked uselessly in the air. Hands clawing at her wrist.

"H-Helena—'gkkk'—please—I can't—"

"You'll tell me 'everything' about the situation in the main palace," Helena said calmly, her voice completely at odds with the fact that she was currently 'dangling a grown man in the air'. "And you'll explain yourself. Thoroughly. There are ropes and trees outside with wooden sticks specially prepared for you."

"Wood... t-trees, what?!"

Helena turned, still holding Gareth aloft, and 'walked' toward the hallway. She dragged him like a ragdoll—his boots scraping uselessly against the floor, arms flailing.

"W-wait! Please! I need my feet!"

"Young master, you can console Bella, I will interrogate this man."

And then she was gone, hauling Gareth down the corridor like he was nothing more than dirty laundry which was going to get thoroughly beaten off dirt.

The dining room sat in stunned silence.

'Now that was unexpected.' Viktor who heard Helena and saw what she did felt how due to seeing slave contract and already knowing everything as he had told her, she was angry due to maternal instincts towards Bella.

It was expected since Helena was empathic but for her to be this bold was unexpected.

Not only him but Kaida's mouth hung open too. Her eyes were 'wide'. She'd seen Helena before—soft-spoken, gentle, always baking bread or mending clothes.

'Drinking his cum... is this that profitable rather than taking it in pussy?', Kaida realized how rather than letting him fill her womb, she should have if known drinking it would boost her physical strength would have drunk more than just 2 times.

Beside her, Elara had different thoughts.

The noblewoman's mouth was hanging open, eyes locked on the hallway where Helena had disappeared.

"Did she just..." Elara's voice was faint. "...with 'one hand?'"

Kaida said nothing. Her jaw worked, teeth grinding as she felt at least from what Viktor told, she got stamina boost which helped her go all night with him while Mira and Helena were fountains.

Then she clicked her tongue again. "Tch."

She looked down at Elara. "You want food?"

"...What?"

'Food.' Are you hungry? Or are you gonna keep sitting there like an idiot?'

Elara blinked. Then her stomach 'growled'—loud, obnoxious, announcing its emptiness to the entire room.

Her face flushed crimson.

Kaida's mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.

"Come on." She bent down, grabbed Elara under the arm, and 'hauled' her to her feet. Not as dramatically as Helena, but still with surprising strength.

Elara stumbled, her legs shaky, but Kaida steadied her.

"Dining table. Now."

"I—I don't—"

"Do you want to eat or not?"

Elara's pride warred with her hunger.

Hunger won.

"...Yes."

"Good."

Kaida guided—practically dragged—Elara across the room. Her boots thudded against the floor. Elara's slippered feet stumbled to keep up.

They reached the dining table, which was still laden with food. Steam rose from platters of roasted meat, fresh bread, vegetable stew.

Kaida pulled out a chair. "Sit."

Elara sat as her eyes became teary given she loved food of this place, Viktor was too good at cooking.

Kaida moved to the nearest platter, grabbing a plate. She started loading it—meat, bread, vegetables—without asking what Elara wanted.

Elara watched, bewildered.

Then her gaze drifted.

Across the room, Viktor was still standing there just a few hand lengths from the table. His sideways angle was to them. Bella clung to him, her face buried in his chest, silver hair spilling down her back.

And Viktor's hand—

'!'

Elara's eyes widened.

His hand had moved from Bella's back. It slid lower. 'Lower'. Until it cupped the curve of her ass through the white robe.

'Oh my God.'

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