Loud, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Several maids peeked out from doorways and around corners, curious—only for their eyes to widen in alarm the moment they saw who it was.
Drizelous.
He looked furious. Disheveled. Determined.
A low groan left his throat as he stormed toward the servants' hall. Without hesitation, he shoved the door open with force, the loud bang causing everyone inside to turn and stare.
Gasps filled the air.
But he didn't care. He scanned the room with sharp, restless eyes, barely acknowledging the stunned faces or the maids who instinctively straightened, some clearly hoping he'd notice them.
He wasn't here for them.
He was only here for one person.
And then—he saw her.
"Mother!" Drizelous barked, striding forward.
Delilah, mid-conversation with a few older maids, turned at the sound of his voice. Her expression shifted instantly—surprise, confusion, wariness.
