THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

David could see the pain in Vivian's eyes, inflicted by Gareth. "Gareth... yes, it's him, the mouse connected to my assassination," David inwardly mused. A sly glint passed through his eyes. "Who would have thought that I would strike two birds with one stone?" David concluded as he focused on the emotional Vivian in front of him.

"No, young master," Vivian answered his question, her voice wavering. David tightened his embrace from behind, his grip a mix of comfort and insistence. "You don't trust me to tell me the truth?" David's voice carried a note of disappointment, a subtle challenge to her evasion.

"Young master, no... I meant..." Vivian's heart was stung by David's words. This caring man before her seemed so different from the young master she had known. She had suffered immensely—her brother's untimely death, Gareth's relentless harassment. She was all alone, and now here was the young master, holding her, yet she found herself pushing him away.

David's disappointment was palpable, but he remained steadfast, his presence a silent encouragement. Vivian's resolve crumbled. "Yes, young master," she finally confided, her voice trembling as she revealed the whole story, the weight of her burdens spilling out in a torrent of words.

A flicker of understanding softened David's features. "I hear you, Vivian," he said, his voice a steady reassurance. "Don't fret, I'll see to it this is handled." As he spoke, his hand brushed inadvertently against her stomach, hidden beneath her maid uniform. Vivian flinched, momentarily startled.

It was a touch out of place, unexpected, yet a strange warmth bloomed in her chest amidst the lingering fear. She felt a peculiar acceptance of his comforting presence, a security she hadn't felt since her brother's passing.

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