A Few Hours Later
A knock on the door pulled Al from his slumber.
He groggily opened his eyes and glanced at his watch—it was already late in the day. Reluctantly, he got up and opened the small room's door.
A burly man in uniform stood rigidly in front of him. He looked like a servant—no, more like a bodyguard. His gaze was firm and cold, devoid of any friendliness.
"Young Master Al… please come to the family room. Master Edward is asking for you," the man said sternly.
Still half-asleep, Al frowned. It wasn't strange for his father to summon him, but the man's harsh delivery made him feel that something was off.
He followed at a calm yet alert pace.
When they arrived, the mood had clearly shifted.
The family room was crowded, the air thick with tension. The people inside wore expressions mixed with curiosity and suspicion.
Just from the formation alone, something felt wrong.
Several specially assigned bodyguards with intimidating appearances stood firmly along the edges of the room.
The family members watched him with unreadable gazes.
Even the servants were whispering among themselves, though no one could tell what they were talking about. Still, their sharp eyes were fixed on Al.
At the center stood a maid—the same one who had led him to his room earlier, Bia—visibly anxious, yet trying hard to maintain her composure.
Not far from her sat Edward, Al's father, upright in a chair that seemed reserved solely for him, his face stern.
He stared at Al in silence, his gaze cold and unreadable. Yet the pressure of his dominant aura was unmistakable.
"Al," Edward said calmly, his voice cold. There was no raised tone, no outburst—yet the air carried a clear sense of conflict. "Explain what you've done."
"Hmph? What did I do?" Al replied, genuinely confused. "I just woke up, Father… what's going on?"
Edward let out a breath, clearly uninterested in dragging things out, then turned toward the maid.
"You. Tell us what happened. We need to know exactly what occurred. Speak clearly."
Al grew even more confused by his father's words and the oppressive gestures surrounding him.
The maid, Bia, took a deep breath. Clearly reluctant, she hesitated for a moment—then finally began to speak.
"Th-this afternoon, I took Young Master Al to the downstairs room… as instructed by Young Master David," she explained.
"H-He said his room was being prepared and that he wanted to surprise Young Master Al with the help of his siblings. So I was told to lead him to that space first."
Still struggling to fully wake up, Al listened quietly.
"But… on the way, Young Master Al suddenly became furious because the room was small and dusty. He… he even hit me and… um… that's all, sir." Bia continued.
She paused, as if holding back more.
Edward's eyes sharpened.
"You're not telling the full story, are you? Say it. Don't hold back," he commanded coldly.
The maid hesitated, then finally confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
"H-He… he also tried to flirt with me… and touched me. I know it was inappropriate, and I didn't want to speak up to protect his name, but…"
She turned to look at Al and bowed slightly.
"…I'm sorry, sir. I can't stay quiet anymore. It was humiliating."
Her voice broke into quiet sobs.
The room fell into complete silence.
Al, still drowsy, stayed quiet, scanning everyone's reactions, trying to make sense of the accusation.
Wait… that's not how it happened. Why is she lying? he wondered.
For now, his instincts told him to observe his surroundings and look for anyone suspicious.
It was strange for a mere servant to suddenly accuse him like this—there was a strong chance someone had pushed her to do it.
Al scanned the room, his gaze landing on two figures—Sarah and David, the two people with the greatest potential to stand against him.
Sarah looked completely clueless, staring at him with a mix of shock and anger. It didn't seem like she had anything to do with this.
Given how openly he had rejected her earlier that day, pulling something like this didn't feel like her style at all.
If anything, there was a hint of bitterness in her expression, as if she were thinking:
'Out of all the women here—many of them far more attractive—why would he go after someone like Bia?'
As for David, he stood not far from Sandra, his expression unreadable. That made it difficult to suspect him outright as the mastermind.
He wore a similarly pained look—but for some reason, it felt more like he was mocking Al.
In the end, Al found no clues at all—aside from the fact that Bia had framed him.
Al shifted his gaze back to Bia.
So... she framed me? But why? She's just a servant here, and I don't have any grudge against her. That doesn't make any sense at all.
A wave of confusion washed over him. But at the very least, he understood one thing—if he reacted recklessly now, it would only validate her lies.
So he forced himself to stay calm.
His eyes sharpened as they fixed on Bia.
For someone like me to get dragged into something this petty… how annoying.
But fine. I don't know what your problem is, young lady—but you'd better be ready for the consequences, he thought grimly.
---
Tension Rises
The family room grew hotter with tension as Sarah, dressed in a burgundy silk blouse, stepped forward with a sneer aimed at Al.
"See," she said with calm disdain,
"I already warned you this afternoon—and this is the proof."
She then shook her head.
"He's only been here for a day and already caused trouble—behaving wildly, hitting and harassing a maid. He clearly doesn't understand our values or how to act properly in this home. He's just… feral."
Edward, still clad in his dark formal suit, felt anger and disappointment churning in his chest—but he maintained his calm, domineering composure.
What's wrong with this child?
I thought I had just brought my son back home, but why does it feel like I've brought a beast into this house instead?
…Was I wrong? Edward wondered, forcing himself to reflect.
He tapped the armrest of his chair lightly.
But perhaps this was a good situation to test him—to see whether Al was truly the kind of person Khalil had described.
Edward lifted his gaze once more, fixing his eyes on Al.
"Al, I told you—you need to learn what it means to be part of this family. We are a respected household. This reckless behavior is disgraceful," he said calmly.
"Yes... And right now, you're here only because of blood. If you can't show respect, you may as well leave this house right now." Sarah added coldly, still pushing the idea.
Aurielle, the eldest sister, joined the conversation. She wore a crisp beige blazer and had her hair neatly styled. She leaned forward, her gaze sharp and piercing.
"I don't know why, but if this is about the room…" she said coldly. "Don't forget, Al—you were raised in an orphanage, sharing a room with many others."
"Even if you're temporarily sleeping in a storage room that's beneath Virellano standards, you should be grateful we've welcomed you at all," she explained.
She crossed her arms.
"You've been given your own space—for now. Your proper room is ready soon. Plenty of people don't even have that.," she contiued.
"Don't make things difficult with your lack of manners."
She then sighed,
"And as for the harassment you committed…" she continued coldly.
"...That kind of behavior is disgusting. You're part of this family now, and that means respecting the rules—and the people—even the staff."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Don't make me regret trying to keep you in this house."
Al stood calmly at the center of the room.
His expression remained neutral, composed.
Rather than feeling cornered, his mind was focused on finding a solution. He wanted to clarify one thing—that everything Bia had said was false.
He was well aware of how he looked in their eyes right now: an orphan.
And to people like them, orphan often meant undisciplined, wild. He was standing on unfavorable ground.
Worse, he didn't have any concrete evidence to clear himself immediately.
I already checked the area earlier, he recalled. There were no CCTV cameras there.
That meant if he wanted to defend himself, his only weapon was logic and words.
Arguing might be the most tactical option—but unfortunately, there was one more factor he had to consider.
Al wasn't exactly normal.
As Khalil had explained, even though the chances of Al being a cursed human were considered low, the truth was that Al was one—one who had successfully concealed his cursed identity.
That means, he was someone whose emotions must never be destabilized.
If this were an academic or political debate, there wouldn't be a problem. But a family dispute? That carried a high risk of affecting his emotional state.
Is it safe to argue like this?
It's been a long time since I last argued… will my emotions stay stable? he wondered.
Still, he couldn't remain silent forever. Steeling himself, he decided to take the risk rather than accept injustice.
Ignoring Sarah's and Aurielle's remarks entirely, he walked toward Bia—slowly, calmly.
The room watched in silence. The bodyguards, however, subtly shifted their stance, clearly ready to react if Al made any suspicious move.
Their eyes flicked toward Edward, as if awaiting an order—but Edward allowed Al to proceed.
Noticing their readiness, Al simply shook his head.
"Relax… I just want to clarify something. There's no need to be so tense," he said casually, stopping right in front of Bia.
The distance between them was uncomfortably close.
The bodyguards didn't ease up.
With his usual lazy expression, Al began.
"Are you accusing me of harassing you?" he asked calmly.
His tone was relaxed, almost indifferent—but for some reason, that calmness pressured Bia into responding seriously.
Bia lifted her head for a brief moment, then lowered it again.
"I-I'm sorry, Young Master… I can't lie," she said.
"No. That's not what I asked," Al replied evenly. "I don't like word games. Answer the question."
Bia visibly grew nervous, hesitating.
Sarah clicked her tongue in irritation. The way Al questioned Bia felt arrogant, as if he were acting above his station. She was about to step forward—
—but Edward cleared his throat and shot her a look.
She stopped immediately.
Meanwhile, Al leaned in slightly, studying Bia more closely.
"I'll give you one more chance," he said lazily. "Tell the truth."
Bia swallowed hard. Her eyes shifted to the side, avoiding his gaze—clearly looking toward someone else, as if silently asking for help.
Al noticed it.
Without moving his head, only with the corner of his eyes, he followed her line of sight—and caught sight of several figures.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
I see.
Feeling cornered, Bia nodded stiffly.
"Y-Yes, Young Master. I'm not lying at all," she said.
"Huff... So in the end, you're choosing to lie," Al muttered as he straightened up. "I don't know why you're making things up. I didn't even know we had a problem—but fine."
Bia flinched at the word lie, yet continued her act.
"What do you mean, Young Master?" she asked, feigning confusion. "Are you blaming me now? When you're the one who harassed me…"
Al didn't respond.
He merely shook his head lightly and stepped back.
Bia let out a quiet breath of relief, the crushing pressure finally lifting—though she had no idea what Al intended to do next.
Al then turned and walked toward Edward, stopping at a respectful distance. He let out a breath before speaking.
"So what's your decision, Father?" he asked.
Edward narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"