Suppression

This silence lasted for about a minute or two, yet it felt as long as a century.

In the end, Karl was the first to break the suffocating silence.

As if he had made a momentous decision, he raised his head. His gaze wandered uncertainly before he finally summoned his courage and looked at the Count. His voice was lower and far more hesitant than when they had discussed military affairs earlier. "My lord... Charlotte... is she... is she all right?"

Asking this question seemed to drain a considerable amount of his strength. The hand resting on his knee unconsciously clenched slightly.

Earl Rochefort's motion as he packed tobacco into his pipe paused almost imperceptibly. He raised his eyes and gave Karl a deep look with those profound eyes. His gaze was impossible to read, seeming to contain scrutiny, understanding, and perhaps even a trace of imperceptible resignation.

He did not answer immediately. Instead, he struck a match and brought the orange-red flame to the pipe. He took several puffs, letting the smoke rise slowly and form a faint, tobacco-scented veil between them.

"She's fine." The Count's voice came through the smoke, steady and devoid of discernible emotion. "She's actually freer in Hewenham Territory. You don't need to worry."

He paused, seemingly weighing his next words. His tone remained calm, yet carried an unquestionable certainty. "She... knows how you feel now, too. She's... very happy."

At the words "very happy," a faint yet genuine glimmer instantly lit up in Karl's eyes, like a ray of sunlight breaking through the gloom. His tense shoulders seemed to relax slightly. This was perhaps the most comforting news he had heard in days.

However, the Count's next words were like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing the hope that had just begun to burn.