Move out of Malfoy Manor. Otherwise, everyone would die.
Once the dinner ended, the atmosphere in the dining room, which had only just relaxed somewhat, instantly became heavy again.
The Death Eaters, including Adam Vogel, who was interested only in causing greater chaos, all turned their attentive gazes toward Vitia.
Voldemort and Vitia locked eyes, neither speaking for a moment.
"Is that so?"
After a long while, Voldemort's pale right hand began stroking Nagini's head again. He tilted his head slightly and looked at Lucius and Narcissa, whose eyes had widened, a mocking curve twisting across his lips.
"I noticed that you and your family have been rather unhappy these past days, Malfoy. To make me move out, you even found someone to plead your case, didn't you?"
"Absolutely not, Master!"
Beads of sweat rolled down Lucius's cheek as he rose to his feet in panic.
"I swear it, Master. I—we absolutely did not. I mean, it is our greatest honor that you are willing to stay in our home. We—we could not be happier!"
Lucius swore fervently that neither he nor his wife had asked Miss Cliodna to sound Voldemort out on their behalf.
"You know what I mean—"
Vitia blinked tiredly.
Voldemort's attitude had already made everything clear.
In truth, it was not the lives of the wizards in this manor that she pitied. In her eyes, among all those who came and went from this estate, perhaps the only ones worth saving were the House-elves who brought her meals every day. Everyone else was guilty of monstrous crimes, herself included.
By the measure of their crimes, they all deserved to die.
Nor was she unaware of Voldemort's likely reaction. After all, this was not the first time the subject had come up between her and Voldemort.
Yet