After Emma left, Silas sank into the couch, his gaze falling on the frail Lucien resting on the bed. A faint smile touched his lips as he spoke. "You've already gone and blown up, and now cubs are on the way. Your Highness, it looks like you're about to become a father. "From now on, you should know exactly what's expected of you, right?" "Don't worry. Starting tomorrow, I'll take care of my responsibilities," Lucien replied, his expression serious and unwavering. Silas nodded in acknowledgment before turning his attention to Marcus. "And why are you staring at me like that?" Marcus stammered, caught off guard. "I've been... pretty obedient." He remembered the tiny outburst he'd thrown at Emma. It had frightened her so much she nearly fainted. Marcus knew it wasn't entirely his fault, yet the memory still made his stomach churn. So now, he was determined to behave perfectly. Without waiting for either Emma or Silas to instruct him, he moved to tend to Lucien. "Yeah, you've been good," Silas said, nodding casually. But then his tone darkened, a sharp edge creeping into his voice. "Of course, only those who've done wrong act so obediently when guilt gnaws at them. Emy's fine right now, so I won't ask what you did. But mark my words... there won't be a next time." Marcus pressed his lips together and murmured, "Understood." Silas finished his words and rose to leave. Bang! The door slammed shut, and Marcus turned to Lucien. "Is he like that in the army too?" Even Marcus could feel the weight of Silas' presence—it was no joke. Lucien gave a small nod. "Actually... worse." A sharp pang of unease hit Marcus. "Looks like the road ahead won't be easy." When it came to tactics, they were no match for Silas. Playing dirty was even more impossible. They'd probably get outsmarted, lose, and still end up helping him count his winnings. ... Outside the room, Silas had just stepped into the hallway when Calum intercepted him. Silas frowned. "Marshal, shouldn't you be with Emma? What brings you here?" "Edric is still with Ms. Tibarn. I just came out to get her some fruit," Calum replied, slinging an arm casually over Silas' shoulder with a grin. "Thanks for giving me a little alone time with Ms. Tibarn. And about that vial of holy medicine you gave away—I'll let it slide this time." Silas stared at him, rolling his eyes inwardly. "Marshal, who did you do this for?" "Ms. Tibarn, obviously," Calum answered without hesitation. Silas blinked. "Exactly. It was for Emy. So why are you getting worked up at me?" Calum went silent, dumbfounded. "No," Silas muttered, rubbing his temple. "This isn't how it works."He could almost feel himself getting talked in circles by Silas. "If you hadn't mentioned it, how would Ms. Tibarn even know I had the holy medicine?" "What do you mean, 'yours'?" Silas pressed, "Were you planning to bond with Emy?" "Of course," Calum replied reflexively. "Marshal, think. If you bond with Emy, doesn't everything you possess automatically become hers?" Calum nodded. "Yeah." "So doesn't that medicine automatically belong to Emy?" "It does!" Calum admitted. Something still felt off. Silas wasn't done. "Since it's hers, and she clearly doesn't want to owe Alaric, keeping it changes nothing. Giving it to him solves the problem, right?" Calum hesitated, speechless.Seeing his frustration mount, Silas softened slightly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Marshal, brute force won't solve everything. Use your brain for once. Why did I ask you to hand the medicine to Alaric? It's mostly for you and Malrik, especially you." "What does it have to do with me?" Calum frowned, confused. Silas explained patiently. "All your little tricks to please a female came straight from our internal lessons, didn't they? That pajama stunt of yours—how many times can you actually reuse it?" Calum went quiet. "You haven't even bonded with Emy yet, and Malrik's right behind you—he's almost back to normal. What do you really have to compete with a natural-born Enchanter like him?" Calum stayed silent. "And now add Alaric to the mix—Marshal, do you honestly think you can outdo these two in winning her favor?" No answer. Sighing, Silas concluded, "I used the holy medicine to remove Alaric from the equation. Didn't I just eliminate one rival for you? Malrik recovered thanks to your efforts. He owes you. When it comes to competing for her, he'll step aside, won't he? So tell me, am I helping you or not?" Calum couldn't argue. Logically, it made sense. But something still felt off. He rubbed his temple, exasperated. "Forget it. I'm done talking."