The entire royal guard team went out to capture a woman but returned empty-handed.
When the captain of the guard returned, he looked a little disheveled, but his injuries were minor and not life-threatening.
This puzzled George.
Although Arabella's name had reached him from a faraway country, he hadn't delved into the details of her reputation.
But Arabella was revered as "Master Unknown" by both the underworld and the authorities, which made her far from an ordinary person. She was certainly someone ruthless and cunning.
Yet this woman seemed to have a very measured approach. Could she not be Arabella?
"You couldn't even capture a woman?"
"Report, General! A man suddenly appeared to protect her. We were caught off guard and allowed them to escape."
"A man?" George raised an eyebrow. He had been focused on the woman, so hearing the mention of a man immediately made him show a trace of displeasure.
"Yes, the woman was well-protected by him. The man is quite skilled. He didn't act because he was worried about injuring her, so—"
A woman who didn't act, and a man who suddenly appeared to protect her?
George furrowed his brow slightly, recalling the rumors about Arabella's side, where there was a formidable and highly skilled man named Raven.
I heard that the sixth-ranked individual combat specialist is a top-tier expert.
"How does the opponent look? Are they on the same level as those legendary individuals on the ranking list?"
The head of the guards had never seen one of the legendary individuals on the combat ranking list.
There were only ten such legendary individuals in total. The world was so vast that if he encountered one of them, he wouldn't even know how he'd die.
And yet, Arabella, as a woman, held the top spot, which truly baffled those who didn't understand the situation.
How strong must she be to stand out among such a group of formidable men?
"She looks pretty ordinary, and her skills are indeed impressive, but she's definitely not one of the monstrous fighter on the list."
So it really isn't Arabella or Raven.
George couldn't decide whether he was disappointed or relieved, but his interest in that woman hadn't changed. However, the other party was likely some noblewoman from a foreign land. At least within the high society of Doma, there had been no woman like her—one who could captivate his soul with a single glance.
"Go find out! See if there are any wealthy young men from foreign countries who have recently arrived."
George had indeed guessed wrong about the woman's identity—she was, in fact, Arabella.
However, Arabella had always acted low-key. Now that she was in Doma, her ambition was clear, and with ulterior motives, she was naturally hiding her true identity.
As the royal guard in elaborate attire surrounded her, their posture one of utmost respect yet their actions unyielding as they took her away, Arabella couldn't help but feel a tinge of confusion.
She took some time to think about what she had done before, but she couldn't figure out anything that might have been out of line.
Of course, she was completely unaware that her alluring side had attracted the attention of a dangerous predator.
Caracal, still in his usual guise as Norman, came to report to Arabella on Raven's situation and coincidentally encountered her being surrounded by people as she came out of the casino.
Caracal's first reaction was that those people had a death wish. He thought that in the next second, their heads would be rolling.
However, to his surprise, Arabella saw him coming and casually crossed her arms, leisurely waiting for him to step in and showcase his heroics.
*
By the time they returned to the villa, it was nearly midnight.
The night was cool as water, and the surroundings were eerily quiet.
Taras and Bramwell each had their own roles, and recently, they were caught up in their own dramatic plots, so they naturally didn't return.
After Arabella finished washing up, with wet hair, she poured herself a glass of wine.
The wines brewed in Doma were of high purity, with a sweet taste that, when consumed in excess, would quickly take effect and leave a potent aftertaste.
Arabella had a period every month when she craved sweets, but now, every time she indulged in something sweet, it reminded her of the cake that Julius had sent her.
The cake was laced with poison; choosing to take a bite was her own doing, and she had no one to blame but herself. Yet that did not stop her from feeling disgusted. Years of carefully laid foundations, all destroyed by a single cake—Arabella couldn't help but think her self-control was still too weak.
Arabella drank as though she were pouring it down her throat. Her alcohol tolerance was astonishing, and it was hard to understand how her slender waist could hold so much liquid.
Caracal stood nearby, watching as Arabella drank the alcohol like water, the gulping sound of her throat moving provocatively. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if his cock was sliding into her mouth.
He immediately covered his nose, afraid that a nosebleed would betray his thoughts and make Arabella realize what he was fantasizing about.
Arabella paused, casually picking up a piece of meat from the plate and putting it in her mouth, then giving Caracal a lingering look.
This plate of meat was something she had bought when she returned—a half-pound of beef sliced thin. It didn't need to be delicious; the meat and alcohol were enough to satisfy her.
When he saw Arabella glance at him, Caracal immediately suppressed his emotions and, with a serious expression, reported Raven's recent movements.
"Overall, Raven has been busy preparing to rebuild the base," Caracal started, but then paused. His eyes quickly glanced at Arabella, and he immediately masked his emotions before continuing, "Except—he disappeared for the entire night the night before. I couldn't find him."
Arabella, upon hearing this, instead smiled, her brows and eyes curving into crescent moons. Her slender fingers traced the rim of her glass as she spoke: "This means he has always known you've been following him."
Caracal immediately disagreed, "My tracking skills are top-notch."
Arabella nodded but didn't argue.
Caracal's tracking skills were indeed top-tier, but Raven's abilities were unparalleled. The fact that Raven could shake him off at will proved that everything before had been intentional on Raven's part.
"Alright, he knows you've been following him, and he knows you'll report to me about his disappearance that night." Arabella's tone was soft and gentle, as it always was. Her words, uttered in a quiet murmur, betrayed no hint of the true turmoil within.
Caracal still wanted to argue, but a sound came from outside in the courtyard.
Arabella didn't turn around. She had already recognized the footsteps. Raven walked in his usual composed manner, his posture tall and sharp, exuding an air of aggression.
The row of lawn lamps in the courtyard flickered with a dim, yellow light. The night breeze rustled the trees, creating a soft, whispering sound. Raven stood motionless outside the door, his shadow elongated by the faint light. In the sudden silence of the space, a sense of eeriness lingered in the air.
Caracal wisely fell silent. He knew full well that Raven had been by Arabella's side for so many years, and no words from him would shake that position.
As he walked out the door and brushed past Raven, their eyes met, silently sizing each other up.
After Caracal left, Raven reported in detail about the things he had been doing recently to Arabella.
Arabella listened in silence, only smiling as she finally asked, "So where did you go the whole night the night before?"
Raven raised his eyes, a trace of disappointment in them, as if hiding endless thoughts. There was no panic, only a deep, stormy current within his deep green eyes, like ice breaking and waves surging.
"Your birthday is coming soon."
Arabella was rarely stunned, but she quickly blinked, masking all her emotions. The smile at the corner of her lips deepened a little.
She reached out, wrapping her arm around Raven's neck. Her damp, blond hair was soft, carrying a faint, ambiguous humidity. Her voice, laced with a hint of teasing, whispered against his neck: "My Raven is truly the best. Probably only you would remember my birthday."
