A red shadow appeared outside the Viscount's second wife's chambers.

  'What is this?'

  'This is definitely not a normal human.'

  Dyrian could sense the humans outside because they appeared to be a very faint version of blue. All living beings had some degree of elemental Qi in them, and that was the case for Clara, Grace and other maids. They were all blue shadows.

  Those red shadows struck as an anomaly.

  'Strange, their pattern of movement is suspicious.'

  At first, one shadow appeared on the rooftop. Then it increased to five beings. They would linger all day and night, keeping a camouflage. They would eavesdrop and observe everything. At intervals, the figures would alter. As if changing shifts.

  'This is bad. They are definitely not here with good intent.' He felt the pressure building.

  The Viscount's manor was too vicious. He wasn't even born yet, and schemes to kill him were set into motion.

  "What is it, Thomas? You look concerned."

  "My lady, the baby is not doing well."

  "What?"

  'What?' Dyrian thought he was doing very well. What happened?

  "The heartbeat seems to be erratic. Could it be you have eaten something strange lately?"

  "Strange?" Grace mused.

  "My Lady has been having an intense craving for the fruits from the Southern region lately," Clara interjected.

  "Is that all? Nothing out of the ordinary other than that?" Thomus inquired, his concerns extending beyond medicinal inquiry.

  For a moment, Grace was suspicious owing to her paranoid nature. Then, reminding herself that the physician was placed by the Viscount, she relaxed. Her over-cautiousness had already cost her the Viscount's favour in the past. "Are those fruits problematic?"

  "My suggestion is that if My Lady is taking anything that's out of the norm lately, she must stop it as soon as possible."

  "But I have been told the southern fruits are good for pregnancy." Grace didn't like the taste of those berries. It was just that she would have strange cravings that only those berries could satisfy. And since they were good for the baby, she had no reason to stop.

  "Excess of anything is problematic," Thomas remarked as his eyes twinkled.

  He made a note of the word Southern fruits. Yes, they were good for pregnancy. It seemed like a news Viscountess would want to hear.

  Later in the evening, when Grace was attracted by the bitter-sweet scent from the cherries, she quickened her steps to the platter.

  "My lady..." Clara reminded with a concerned face.

  Torn between her cravings and what was good for the child, Grace's hand was stuck in mid-air. She sighed, giving up on the fruits. She just couldn't understand why she would feel such intense craving for those fruits. "Take them away."

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  While she steeled her decision, Dyrian could only sway his small limbs in anger.

  'What 'not doing well'? I am clearly doing well. That physician is lying. He purposely kept my mother away from the berries that were good for me. He is definitely planted by the enemy.' Dyrian concluded.

  He had tried his best to create the most intense of urges in Grace that he could. But his mother was stubborn. She would heed reason before emotion. So when she resolutely discarded the fruits, Dyrian could only shed silent tears.

  So much good blue Qi

  Wasted.

  Just like that.

  ...

  The sun was setting in the sky. It was the time of transition between Autumn and winter. As her pregnancy progressed, Grace's complexion was getting better and better. She stopped taking the fruits sent by Lord Lionel. But stopping them didn't have any obvious effect.

  On one particular day, Thomas arrived to check on Grace. After taking her pulse, his expression looked concerned.

  "What is it, Thomas?"

  "The condition of the fetus has worsened since the last time."

  "Are you certain? My lady has been doing very well lately."

  Thomas let go of her wrist and said. "Yes, it's because the fetus is not getting its full nourishment; the lady's complexion is getting better."

  So she was getting healthier at the cost of her child? Grace's expression soured. "Then what must we do?"

  "There's a way..."

  "What is it about?"

  Thomas shook his head. "I must add that this is rather risky. But at the current rate, the child might not make it out alive."

  Grace and Clara exchanged a look. A look of understanding. "Just say it, I'll go for it if that's the last way."

  "There's a special herb for this situation. It's grown in the northwest mountains. Basically, it stimulates the fetus, but it can also harm him if overdone. If my lady allows, I will brew a soup for you."

  "How dangerous is it?"

  "Not much dangerous if administered carefully."

  Grace thought over it. No, she won't allow her child to die even before being born. The Viscount already didn't favour her as much as he did in the past. The child was her only chance.

  "I'll try it," Grace said, determined.

  "My lady," Clara expressed her concern.

  "I know, Clara, but we don't have a choice."

  Later that evening, Thomas sent someone with a soup. A maid arrived at the door.

  Meanwhile, suspended in his heaven, Dyrian sensed a deep red radiating from the insides of the bowl that carried the medicine.

  'Screw it, I knew that physician was lying.'

  'Are they that desperate to kill me? That they are using such direct methods.'

  He sensed and calculated the amount of blue Qi within the amniotic fluid.

  'That's not enough. If my mother consumed this soup, I wouldn't be able to withstand the poisoning.'

  "My lady, here's the soup sent by the physician." The maid looked like an ordinary servant. Nothing special about her. "Thomas said, you must consume it while it's still hot."

  She hurried towards Grace after the formal greeting. "If it must be consumed hot, then you must hurry." Grace still remembered Thomas' words that the medicine must be administered carefully. Her anxieties had been increased because lately she had sensed reduced activity from her son's side. That prompted her into action.

  Just as the bowl approached her lips, something strange happened. Her son jumped up to life and gave her the strongest kick of all time. The bowl slipped from her hands, shattering on the floor and spilling the soup.

  "Oh Gosh."

  "Grace, are you alright?" Clara inspected Grace to find any signs of burning. Luckily, the soup didn't spill over her.

  "This is..." The maid who was tasked to oversee Grace drink the soup looked perturbed. "This is not good. The herbs for the soup were rare. It would take days if not months to procure new ones."

  Grace was surprised the unseemingly maid knew so much. Her paranoid nature was spiked. "Why do you look so nervous?"

  "Pardon me, my lady." The maid bowed and left quickly.

  "Should I get the soup cleaned?"

  "No, don't", Grace stopped Clara. "Something is wrong."

  While Grace was preoccupied with these thoughts, Dyrian mentally sighed in relief. Thankfully, his mother was easier to influence. She already bore the instincts. If she had devoured that soup, he was done for.

  But it was a momentary respite, for he was observing the red shadows increasing in number. They were upto something. Something that would jeopardise him.

  ...

  "What did you mean she spilt the soup?"

  "That's what happened, my lady," Thomas informed the Viscountess. The noble woman paced up and down the room and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Well then, the lady leaves us no choice."

  "Tonight we attack."