In the dimly lit room, Lady Pembroke slowly turned the pages of her book, her gaze occasionally drifting to the bed where Derek slept peacefully. The clock had just struck eleven. Setting the volume on the nightstand, the woman rose from her chair with deliberate care. She extinguished the single lamp, plunging the chamber into darkness, and—trying not to wake her son—quietly slipped out.
The moment the door clicked shut, Derek's eyes snapped open.
"God, I thought I'd **suffocate** in that atmosphere," the young man muttered, stretching luxuriously. As he turned his head to crack his neck, the room suddenly flooded with brilliant light.
"Ugh!" Derek squeezed his eyes shut, and the next instant his mother's furious shriek assaulted his ears.
"**Derek Pembroke!** You've gotten far too brazen!"
Derek opened his eyes—now adjusted to the brightness—and found Lady Pembroke standing rigid in the doorway, her expression thunderous.
"Ha-ah... I thought you'd already left," he muttered, swinging his legs out of bed.
"Left? Where would I possibly go?" The woman crossed her arms over her chest. "Do you think I'd simply leave you unattended? Are you planning to drag some other girl back here tonight? Or perhaps you've already found yourself a new hiding place for your... activities?"
She tapped her chest in theatrical despair.
"Do you have **any** idea how Alexio humiliated me when he scolded me for your behavior?! The princess witnessed **everything**! Haven't you realized yet what you've done?"
"Well, I've always been like this." Derek shrugged with infuriating nonchalance. "Was this time any different?"
"**Derek Pembroke!**"
"Yes, Mother. I'm well aware my name is Derek Pembroke. And frankly, I'm rather fed up with your constant surveillance. I'm not a child anymore—so kindly **stop**." The man yawned deeply, rose, and crossed to his mother, patting her shoulder with condescending affection.
Normally, such behavior would have earned him nothing more than a light reprimand. But now the circumstances were different.
"I keep telling you to exercise caution, but as luck would have it, you've caught the **princess's** attention! How will you possibly win her favor and sway her to our side after that spectacle?" The most likely outcome was that Adelina would prefer to keep as far from him as possible. "Besides, I **can't** control her! If your debauchery becomes public knowledge, you'll never secure a worthy match."
This was precisely why Lady Pembroke had been shadowing Adelina for an entire week, working tirelessly to cultivate a favorable impression. Fortunately, the girl showed no inclination to gossip about the events of that first day. But who could predict how things might unfold in the future?
"Have you nothing to say for yourself, Derek Pembroke?"
The woman was already seething, while her son merely smirked in response—a reaction that shattered what remained of her composure.
"You won't even apologize this time? Won't promise it won't happen again?"
"If I said that, it would be a lie. And a lie is an even **greater** sin, isn't it, Mother?"
"**What?!**" Lady Pembroke laughed in disbelief. "You still don't comprehend what you've done?"
"Of course I comprehend. I was deliberately cruder than usual."
"You—!" The woman struck her son sharply across the back. "Have you completely lost your mind? Where did this insolence come from? My God, my head..." She was so furious she could scarcely form words. Lady Pembroke sighed heavily and pressed both hands to her temples, which throbbed mercilessly. "How could a child like **you** have been born to such a decent man as your father..."
"If I'm nothing like Father, then I probably take after my mother—wouldn't you agree?"
"**Hey!**" When the woman shrieked again, Derek smiled and began gently massaging her temples. Lady Pembroke waved his hands away irritably, but he persisted. "I work myself to **exhaustion** for your future, and all you know how to do is create trouble. You're the reason my headaches never cease."
"Mother, don't fret so. I'm making efforts too."
The woman fixed him with a look that clearly demanded, *How is that even possible?*—but Derek simply shrugged.
"The maids working in that wing tell me that although the Duke and Duchess share a bed, there's no indication they're actually... **sleeping** together."
"What?"
"She brought only one maid with her. No matter how carefully they try to maintain discretion, it's nearly impossible in an enormous estate teeming with servants. Someone was bound to notice eventually—and they happen to be on **my** side." Lady Pembroke listened with sudden, keen attention. "The maid isn't stupid either—she thought to silence them with money... But in the end, **instincts** always prevail, don't they? I merely... caressed them a little, and they surrendered everything they knew quite willingly."
"So—in order to gather intelligence, you deliberately seduced the maids working in their wing and committed all manner of obscene acts?"
"Yes, precisely." Derek's smirk turned positively smug.
Lady Pembroke was so astonished that her son had devised such a cunning scheme that she found herself momentarily speechless.
"Did you just fabricate all of this?" she asked suspiciously.
Derek sighed, as though deeply wounded by her distrust.
"Mother, do you truly have so little faith in your own son?"
"After all your antics, I have **no** reason to trust you." Lady Pembroke struck him across the back again, though her voice no longer carried quite the same fury. "Then explain—why did you do it directly in front of the princess?"
"Oh, **that**." Derek's smile broadened into something almost boyish. "That was an accident."
"What?"
"How was I supposed to know she'd be so enthusiastic about exploring the estate on her very first day? Besides, she came specifically to the **library**, not the treasury—which would have been far more predictable."
"Oh, **you**—!" The woman's face flushed crimson once more, and she screamed. "So I was right! It **was** an accident! I'm definitely going to lose my mind at this rate!"
---
Late at night, the corridors lay cloaked in shadow, illuminated only by the feeble glow of scattered sconces. With the exception of the guards on duty, all the servants had long since retired to their quarters.
Adelina moved through the darkened passageways of the estate. The atmosphere was utterly transformed from the daytime—quiet, slightly **eerie**. The lavish decorations so perfectly suited to Lady Pembroke's tastes seemed even more imposing now, their gilded edges and crystal surfaces half-buried beneath the cover of darkness.
"If you sold half of these ornaments, you could definitely purchase an entire mansion," Sophie whispered, shuddering with distaste. The lantern swayed in her hands, casting dancing shadows that leapt and flickered across the walls. "There are only two warehouses left to check. But is it truly necessary?" The maid sighed, eyeing the two unused keys that remained.
They had already visited six warehouses, each of which had proven practically **empty**—a discovery that left Sophie thoroughly disappointed.
"I didn't expect to discover mountains of gold, but these are still the Duke of Pembroke's warehouses! According to rumor, there should be treasures here—works of art, priceless artifacts..."
Adelina had encountered similar claims in the press but had always found them difficult to believe. Sophie, however, seemed to have taken the information rather too seriously.
"I once met a baron's servant who was friends with one of the maids here at Pembroke Manor. She told me her friend had once accompanied Lady Pembroke to one of the warehouses, and the contents were truly **astonishing**."