Noon passed at least as quickly as evening came, sweeping its cool breezes through the broken window. No one had come to fix it, no one had looked to see where the mess had come from after the commotion. Everyone was sure that Archihilles was still alive.

Lips pressed together, Soleil kept glancing at Chrollo, who had settled on the bed and was holding a book in his hands. At some point, in the last few hours, he had taken an outfit from Archihilles' wardrobe to fit into the picture. But the clothes didn't sit right. The tailored fabrics looked out of place. The shirts stretched around Chrollo's chest because he was stronger than Archihilles could ever have been. Simultaneously, the trousers were tighter and in terms of shoes, Chrollo had ultimately stayed with those of the butler's uniform.

He looked constricted in these strange clothes and yet Soleil believed he somehow coped to wear all this with dignity.

With a sigh, she adjusted the dress on her own body and clung to the image of the quiet man in the room, with whom she hadn't exchanged a single word after that moment between them.

His pale, almost chalk-white skin remained strangely unnoticeable in the artificial light of the room and his bent-forward posture bathed him in an image that could easily be missed anywhere. In these moments, Chrollo had no presence. He was simply a man, silently engrossed in a book. And Soleil could no longer avert her eyes.

His raven hair stood out in far too many places, somehow making him a mess, though everything about him was clearly thought out. Presumably, he knew that a bit of visual chaos helped make him seem more likeable. It needed that perfect nuance. That bit that made him a trustworthy figure.

"The... Dinner should be served soon." Finally, Soleil broke the silence and struggled to swallow the rasp of the words. The saliva burned in her throat and made her cough barely noticeably.

Meanwhile, Chrollo closed the book in his hands and set it aside before rising and adjusting his jacket so that the strained shirt clung to him less obviously. "Then we should go."

Soleil too pushed herself from her seat to walk towards him in slow steps. Seeing him waiting, just standing there, in no hurry, squeezed her chest tighter. Normally, no one waited for her. Never. But Chrollo did – for a perfectly normal reason – and in doing so gave her that airy lightness that delighted her.

Carefully, she hooked herself with him, finding support against his body and warmth between them, before Chrollo opened the door and they stepped out of the room into the hallway together. It was easier to walk the path she'd been walking alone lately with two of them.

The walls and pitifully ugly artwork passed her by, carrying Soleil down the stairs, straight into the dining room where two servants were preparing food while two others stood waiting in the corners. Only one man, who wasn't wearing a mask, had found a standing place near the table. The smile on his lips had something biting about it.

"You are just in time for dinner, Master, Mistress." Placing a hand on his chest, the servant bowed. A posture Chrollo pushed away with a simple gesture before gently disengaging himself from Soleil and finding space at the very spot where Archihilles usually sat. "Allow me to comment that you look excellent, Master. I take it your ability has enhanced you as you had hoped?"

"It was a test." Lowering his eyelids, Chrollo reached for his wineglass and swirled the poured contents. "Nothing outstanding."

He knew how to lie without flinching. None of his words wavered. Nothing about him seemed uncertain even for a moment.

But he still didn't fit the part.

His posture, the way he spoke, every single letter that passed his lips had a way of being all his own. The snobbish, all-knowing manner of Archihilles was transformed by Chrollo into flat arrogance. Yet his voice remained soft, possessing the undertone of a man who saw himself above everyone else without noticing a flaw in it. In this, he bore not the slightest resemblance to Archihilles. But his servants bought every word he said.

Perhaps because their master loved change and that included every aspect – even the way he spoke.

Half in thought, Soleil lowered her eyes, devoted herself to the food and let the eternal minutes pass silently. Neither did Chrollo speak to her, nor did he play out a life that wasn't his. Instead, he remained silent and avoided Archihilles' pushiness.

A quick glance at him brought no certainty. He ate little, drank coffee, and barely acknowledged her with a glance, as if a problem between them existed. One that might have been there before and the only thing that fitted the picture had been the accident on the sofa. Perhaps he was playing the wronged husband.

Or he was pursuing a play of his own.

The stiff air between them even made two of the servants shiver. Restlessness spread eerily among the empty seats and seeped into the minds of those present – into every body except Chrollo's.

His acting wasn't enough. Soleil was sure of it, scraping a fingernail across the table and still being ignored. The heart in her chest beat to her throat. This way, they would be exposed. If the servants realised what was happening in those seconds, they would make what Chrollo wanted disappear.

Clearing her throat, she drew attention to herself, finally caught her partner's attention and forced a helpless smile. "Is everything ... all right?"

"You tell me." His answer sounded hypothermic, had something biting about it he controlled with his calm demeanour. Perhaps he was playing the part a little better than assumed.

"I ... don't see what the problem is." Indecisively, she shrugged. "If it's because of yesterday, it's still not my fault."

"It would have surprised me, too, if someone like you understood the slightest thing about it." He stared at her impassively. "That was one of my most expensive suits."

"It's not like it's your only one." Sighing, Soleil waved it off before she set the cutlery aside, pushing the problem away. Wordlessly, she stood up, ready to leave the hall, only to notice Chrollo do the same.

"We're going to the lounge," he ordered, taking the first steps towards the door and leaving Soleil to watch, snorting.

Idiot. He was a better Archihilles than she'd expected.

Still, she followed him and met him at the exit to take the proffered arm. The dislike that Archihilles had always carried seemed to flare up in those minutes too, making her want to touch Chrollo as little as possible.

His firm steps led them both out of the dining room, straight into the lounge, which still carried the bitter aftertaste of unwanted touch. The air was stale on the tongue and the two masked men in their corners had something of the air of curious statues.

Disgusted, Soleil loosened her grip on Chrollo's arm to settle groaning on the sofa, which was still far too comfortable. Her companion found a place at her side, put one arm on the backrest and crossed his legs. The sigh on his lips sounded genuine, but only brought silence that threatened to swallow them both.

"I still want children," he then broke the silence all at once. It was the same will that Archihilles had expressed before. It was the narrow point at which Chrollo stepped in and offered her a window to slip through. "We are married. It's time for you to sleep with me."

A simple gesture of her companion's hand gave one servant reason to provide cups and tea. The scent of hot lemon rose, stung the nose, and made Soleil grimace in distaste.

"I don't want children yet," she then slowly brought herself to say. "I'm not that old and definitely not ready to raise a child."

"You're old enough," Chrollo replied calmly. "And it's time you fulfilled your marital duties."

The icy coldness in his voice could have come from Archihilles. In those moments, anything seemed possible, laughing at Soleil in a way she didn't know how to classify, while Chrollo took a sip from his cup. He wasn't much of an actor, but at that moment he was believable – though the depth in his eyes held far more secrets than Archihilles had probably ever had in his entire life. Chrollo was different.

"That may be. But I ... have to find my way here. You dragged me into this house out of nowhere." She tried hard to sound appalled, somehow lost. Credible enough to fit into this absurd picture.

"There's plenty of time for that during pregnancy."

"No way!" Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she jutted her chin, only to be stared down in the next instant.

Chrollo had put down the cup and turned his attention fully in her direction, causing her thoughts to lose their grip for a mere moment.

"What more do you want from me?" Lowering his eyelids slightly, he leaned back.

What did she want?

There were endless options that could have been considered. But what had bothered her most about Archihilles in those seconds?

"Love," Soleil whispered a little too loudly, only to glance at Chrollo curtly. Her heart pounded, blood rushed to her ears and the urge to explain herself won out in the same breath. "It's always like that. You take me by surprise and think only of what you want. But not about the fact that I ... have feelings ... as well." Her hands tightened in her lap. "I-I am not here to be treated like a doll. I'm not one of your toys to be pushed around as you please."

Just like everyone else had done. The way her mother had done before she was abandoned.

Suddenly, there was no shameful restlessness in her. Instead, frustration welled up. That vague ache in her chest that should have been long forgotten. But this house, the servants, Archihilles, they all brought back those bygone days. Days when her only friends had been two servant girls who had never exchanged so much as four words with her.

"Damn." She shook her head in complaint. "I'm tired of being pushed into some role because I'm barely good enough to do it. People like you should be held accountable for that, or at least do their part. And I'm not talking about money."

Chrollo's eyes remained glued to her, impenetrable and incomprehensible, so Soleil merely lowered her gaze and shrugged. She was going too far – probably – but in those seconds, it felt better than having to come up with some lies.

"You're right," Chrollo retorted all at once, making her look up. At the same moment, he leaned forward, getting far too close to her.

Shock paralysed her senses, her bones, her entire body. Unable to run away, she could only close her eyes – but not fast enough not to catch sight of the narrow image of Chrollo's lips brushing against hers.

Heat coursed through her mouth, making the closeness suffocate her lungs and simultaneously carrying his scent with it, which clouded her perception for a moment. All the while, he placed a hand on her back and, as if she weighed nothing, pulled her a few inches in his direction.

As soon as her legs bumped against his, Chrollo released the kiss, leaving nothing more than a wild fluttering in the pit of her stomach that couldn't be contained. Rough chaos that brought nausea but found no time to settle. Instead, she slumped as he let a hand wander under her dress. Light fingers that found a silent hold on her thigh.

He didn't want to stimulate her, didn't harbour a plan. The only thing he wanted was a believable performance that she was to blame for. Without her suggestion, he would probably never have gone along with it.

He wasn't a man for such absurd games.

But he knew the circumstances and acted. Much like a doll, he didn't care what happened to him as long as the outcome served his purpose.

"I want you..." Chrollo's words sounded like another man's request. Strange and inappropriate, so Soleil turned her head away.

"But not with people watching."

Without further ado, he pulled away. "Leave."

His throwing-away hand gesture looked more elegant than Archihilles'. A bit like those seen in royal families, when the women made their wrists dance lithely through the air like cats.

Without a single word, the two masks disappeared from the room, leaving emptiness behind that rained down with liberation on Soleil. The feeling in her chest subsided, putting Chrollo at a distance and tasting a fraction of disappointment. For something she couldn't place.

"I'm sorry." Chrollo's words trailed off to her, only making the weight inside more present, before she put on a thin smile.

"I should apologise. You stepping into that silly role was my idea, after all." Haltlessly, she dropped against the back of the chair. "We should wait a while and try to keep up the image. And then ... we'll just go to the vault and try our luck."

"I suppose you don't know the answers?"

"No." Slowly, she shook her head. "But Archihilles isn't an interesting man. I get that now, and there's not much to see here that matters. I have a few ideas... With any luck, I'll guess right."

"However, we should postpone the attempt." Sluggishly, Chrollo leaned forward to rest his forearms on his legs. "Not everyone will have believed that today. They will be wary. To risk too much at once would reduce the chances."

"What then?"

"What do you know about Archihilles?"

Briefly, Soleil put her head back. She hadn't gathered all that much from him before the assassin had shown up.

"His name is ... Archihilles. He was married to a woman named Hiira, but she passed away. They were together for ages. His staff is divided into three mask classes. He always wanted to have children. He owns a guinea pig, which I know more about than about him. He was very particular about his clothes..." She faltered. "That's less than I expected."

"Can you use it to gain me entry?" He kept his gaze fixed forward, a little as if considering alternatives she had taken from him. Archihilles shouldn't have died and yet he was no longer among them.

Either she would manage, or she would go home empty-handed. Maybe Chrollo would even punish her. He had paved his way into this house and everything he had built was in danger of failing because of her.

Lips pressed tightly together, Soleil tightened her shoulders, tapped her fingers, and rose her brows. "Most definitely."

It was a lie. There was no certainty in this situation. But it was the only option she had. The only way she could stand on her own two feet and perhaps make a difference – albeit different from what she had originally planned.

"However, I don't know the questions and ... Archihilles would never let his wife lead the way. We would have to create an exception ... but I don't see how," Soleil finally confessed. Everything had an obstacle and this one she wouldn't be able to overcome alone.

Chrollo met her words with silence, continued to think, remained in his relaxed posture until all at once he sat up and finally stood. His broad back remained turned towards her as he took a few steps away from her. Only when he seemed certain did he turn to Soleil. "I'll take care of it."

► T E W ◄

Her heart beat faster at the thought of being left in the unknown. The passing evening hours brought no certainty, and asking about it felt foolish. Chrollo didn't seem like a man who shared every aspect of his plan with outsiders. He had made that clear more than once.

Still, she kept glancing in his direction. This time at his naked torso and the underwear that was tight against his skin.

They would sleep in the same bed and although there was nothing special about it, although they would have enough distance, the sight aroused shame. He was a stranger, at once semi-familiar, and an idiot. Seeing him standing almost naked in front of the bed reminded Soleil of the club, of how he had looked away. Simultaneously, the last man she had seen so meagrely dressed, away from Archihilles, had been ages ago.

Chrollo possessed the same physique as classic sportsmen. Or even hunters, it occurred to her, thinking back to the men who had shown off their cards in front of her stage. Perhaps he actually was one or had at least once taken part in the test. She had never asked, and it didn't matter. He was one of many people on her path. Nothing special. And yet pretty to look at.

With a sigh, she finally tore her attention away from him and tugged her nightgown into place. Then Soleil bridged the distance to the bed, still feeling the throbbing in her chest and the slight tingle under her skin. She couldn't trust him and yet they shared this moment.

So she slid under the covers, ignoring the unease inside. With her back turned in his direction, her gaze lingered on the window, its missing pane inviting fresh air into the room. The smell of nature filtered through to her; earth and greenery, anything to calm the nerves a little as the bed beside her gave way. She felt Chrollo's movements on the mattress. Heard the blanket rustle. Listened as silence fell and he turned out the light with a flick.

The darkness engulfed Soleil's perception, making the world dark and the desire for sleep real. Her eyes, however, were slow to close and reluctant to give in to the temptation. She would make the mission a success. Everything would go fully according to plan. Chrollo wouldn't hurt her as long as she still had a use.

The thought made her smile.

This man had never mentioned hurting others. But something about him didn't feel like it should. He possessed the demeanour of someone friendly, accompanied at the same time by attentive glances and sharp words. His body showed that he was in good shape. He was stealing from Archihilles and murder didn't even make him bat an eyelid.

There was clearly more behind his facade – something that might be used. After all, he was just a man.

And men could be straightened out. She just had to find the right moment.

While her lips remembered his kiss.