Athena jolted awake from a nightmare. She lay quietly, gazing at the ceiling with calm eyes, neither crying nor making a fuss. But beneath her unnaturally calm eyes, a storm seemed to be brewing.

Trina entered quietly and saw Athena staring blankly at the ceiling. She tiptoed closer.

“Athena? Athena?” she called softly, twice.

Athena didn’t respond. Alarmed, Trina reached toward her nose to check if she was breathing, only for Athena to grab her hand. Athena’s hand was bone-chilling cold, and her eyes were as sharp as winter icicles. Just meeting her gaze sent chills down Trina’s spine.

“I’m fine,” Athena finally said, only to realize how raw and hoarse her voice was.

Trina’s eyes welled up as she looked at Athena. “Athena, if you’re hurting, please cry. Don’t bottle it up,” she said, gently helping Athena sit up.

Athena’s gaze fell upon the table, which was empty.

“Athena, are you perhaps hungry?” Trina asked cautiously.

After being unconscious all night and yesterday’s ordeal, she must be starving, Trina thought.

Athena nodded curtly. “Bring me some food,” she said.

A hint of relief appeared on Trina’s face. “Okay. I’ll get it immediately.”

Soon, the table was covered with food. Athena sat at the table and began to eat. In no time, she finished a plate of pasta. Without pausing, Athena said, “More.”

Trina, surprised, quickly served her another plate of pasta. Athena usually ate very little, but she finished a second helping today. She didn’t look like she was eating, more like heading to battle.

After finishing her meal, Athena stood up. She stormed toward the front yard, radiating hostility, and Trina hurried after her. But when Athena reached the courtyard gate, she found it tightly shut.

Trina looked troubled. “Athena, Lord Nicolas says your mind is unsettled and you should stay in the courtyard to reflect.”

Athena stared at the locked gate and let out a cold laugh. ‘Reflect? Huh, how thoughtful.’

She turned and went back inside. Moments later, Trina watched in shock as Athena grabbed an axe and strode back out.

A matron heard the commotion and was about to intervene. But then, she saw the blade of an axe protrude through a splintered gate. She saw the fear in the matron's eyes, bolder than before.

The matron screamed and stumbled backward in terror. She thought Athena was terrifying.

The gate wasn’t hard to break. Athena smashed it open in just five swings. She kicked the door open and strode out of the courtyard.

Walking by the matron, Athena said coldly, “Go inform Nicolas. Tell him I’m out.”

The matron hesitated, waving her hands in fear. “I–I dare not…”

“Go! Now!” Athena snapped, tightening her grip on the axe. The matron let out a shriek and fled.

Trina followed closely behind Athena, her heart pounding with fear. She didn’t dare ask what Athena was planning.

Judging by Athena’s demeanor, it feels like she is ready to risk everything, she thought.

Trina glanced around, then grabbed a locust wood stick from the firewood pile. Seeing the sharp thorns on it, she felt a little more secure.

Athena marched toward the woodshed in the backyard, an axe in hand. The old matron on guard spotted her from afar and quickly shrank to the side.

“It’s not worth risking my life for that little money,” the matron thought.

Athena strode up and held out her hand to the matron. “Give me the key,” she demanded.

Trembling, the matron handed over the key. Athena unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Inside the woodshed, disheveled Aliza crouched over a plate of scraps. When she saw Athena suddenly appear, she was so startled that the plate slipped from her hands and crashed to the floor.

Her eyes wide with terror, Aliza shrank into the corner and screamed, “Athena, please don’t kill me. I know I was wrong.”

Every day in confinement, Aliza was filled with regret. It was my greed that had ruined me, she thought.

Athena’s eyes were devoid of warmth as she looked calmly at Aliza. “The child you’re carrying is just a bargaining chip for them. Once it’s born, you’ll be useless to them.”

She tilted her head toward the door, as if showing Aliza the way out. “The gate’s right there. Aren’t you going to run?”

The woodshed adjoined the backyard, separated from the outside world by just a wall. After two months of confinement, Aliza felt trapped in a living hell. She survived on cold leftovers and slept on piles of firewood. Every night, rats would scurry over her body. Sometimes, when she couldn’t bring herself to eat the scraps, rats would eat them instead, leaving her hungry.

Aliza looked between Athena and the bright daylight outside. Then, without a second thought, she turned and ran.

Athena gave a cold chuckle before turning away.

The matrons guarding the backyard saw Aliza dash out and were about to stop her, but Athena’s voice cut through the air. “Let her go.”

The two matrons hesitated, but Athena brandished her axe menacingly. Terrified, the matrons squeezed their eyes shut and turned away.

Aliza shot Athena a grateful look before fleeing the scene.

After finishing everything, Athena finally made her way to the front courtyard. By the time she arrived, everyone was already assembled inside. There were Henry, whose face flushed with rage, Nicolas, his features dark as a thundercloud, Matthew, who looked visibly guilty, and the ever hypocritical Eloise. Next to Eloise, Willow was still sniveling theatrically. The mother and daughter clung to each other like tragic protagonists in a cheap melodrama.

Athena’s eyes glinted with derision as she strode in and fixed her gaze on Willow. “No one’s forcing you to die,” she sneered. “Who’s this daily melodramatic act for?”

As Athena stepped inside, the guards rigidly raised their weapons.

However, Willow trembled dramatically, clinging to Eloise’s arm as she looked at Athena with exaggerated timidity, like a helpless lamb. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Nicolas’s expression darkened as he clenched his fists and snapped, “Athena, what exactly are you trying to do?”

He’d already heard from the servants everything Athena had done: smashing through the gate, storming out of the courtyard in a frenzy, and even letting Aliza escape.

Eloise’s heart churned with unease as she considered Athena’s actions.

She is too calm, eerily calm, Eloise thought. If Athena had raged or lashed out, I would have known how to respond. But Athena has bottled up all that anger and resentment, like a boiling pot overflowing for a single drop of water, and no one could predict when that drop would fall.

Henry looked utterly exhausted. He had slept poorly because of Athena.

The McGee family was demanding that the guards be punished, or Henry would have barged in already, he thought.

He had to admit, Matthew and Willow were at fault when it came to Macy’s death.

But then, he thought, She was just a lowly maid. So what if she’s dead? Why is Athena treating us like mortal enemies? Does Athena expect Matthew to pay with his life for some worthless servant?

A grim rush of muscle etched at the corner of his eye.

Yet for the household’s stability, he decided to placate Athena first. “Athena, name your demands. I know you were close to that maid. But no matter how deep your bond, it can’t compare to family ties, don’t you agree? Do this for my sake. Let Matthew pay for a proper coffin for the maid, and let’s put this matter to rest.”

Eloise also forced a strained smile. “That’s right, Athena…”

Athena’s lips curled into a fleeting, mirthless smile. Then, she snatched the cup from the table and smashed it onto the floor with all her might.