The Gentleman of Noble Blood

"You have five days to leave, Ercilia."

Several hours after Delaney left, that shocking news came.

Guinevere continued to sip her tea in silence. Ercilia sank deeper into her seat, wondering what she did wrong.

She asked herself if she overstepped her boundaries at some point. She had always assumed she could not be disposed of, and yet, this was happening.

"You have a different purpose, darling..." Guinevere went on to say, ignoring Ercilia's distress.

"Multiple purposes, in fact. For that, you need to prove yourself to many other important customers."

"Huh? What are you saying?"

Hearing that she would not be eliminated, she could not keep herself from sighing in relief. She hated that a small glimmer of hope had reappeared - that she was so glad there was still a possibility she could cling to life.

"You will be taken somewhere. There, you have to fulfill a completely different duty," she explained.

"So, I'm not graduating?" she gulped.

"That remains to be addressed after you return here, dear."

"May I ask where I am being sent off to?"

Ercilia could see her eyes grin and glint with mischief. Guinevere spreads a smirk then, causing her to gulp once more.

"To Mr. Iowerth Isis's household."

---

While Ercilia was waiting at the back seat of the car, being transported to an all-new arena where she had to prove herself yet again, she mentally rummaged through all the information that Delaney had collected and relayed to her before she left.

Like the Allaric family, the Isis family also used to be considered nobility - albeit in a lower rank. Within the high society, these clans of direct descendants really do exist. They are part of those at the top of the hierarchy in the present, but even though they have that in common, they are so different from each other when it comes to the kind of endeavors, specialties, ventures, and social groups they engage themselves in.

Iorwerth, for one, has a habit of playing around with women. His family is more similar to the Viatrix's rather than the Allaric's. He is able to get his hands on some of these women with the help of the mafia. Ercilia supposes that this repulsive behavior is the main reason why he is involving himself with them - other than doing business together, that is.

'I can only imagine what he has been doing to those women he buys from the mafia...' she grimaced, feeling like throwing up at that moment as a sense of dread filled the pit of her stomach.

'How sickening. Utterly sickening.'

Ercilia doesn't have a clue as to what exactly she will do. Guinevere never explained it clearly.

Regardless, she is not dumb nor dense. Going by Iorwerth's background alone, she can already tell. Whatever awaits her is definitely a piece of bad news.

Despite herself, she is getting tenser and tenser. The vehicle suddenly shakes, then. From the jolt, she realizes that they are passing through a narrow and rocky path - up a hill, it seems.

Guinevere hadn't come with her. She had simply smiled and waved at Ercilia as she was led into the car by her escorts.

There was no one around her that she could ask anything to. She was on her own. Yet again.

Moments later, the vehicle pulled over at last. The door was opened, and a pair of hands rushed in to grab her roughly. Thrown into a panic, she fought to break free, flailing and thrashing about before biting into the hand until the man it belonged to let out a scream of pain. He flung her away, cursing and glaring at her before going back inside the car.

She watches him drive away with quickened breathing. Standing up straight, she then hisses, "Serves you right, you ungentlemanly asshole."

Then, Ercilia stills.

Upon turning around, she finds herself beholding a majestic iron gate that leads to an enormous mansion. Even though she is still a bit far from there, she can see how stupendous it is. There is even what seems like a courtyard at the front with tons of classical sculptures, an imposing water fountain at the center, and a sun-kissed field of flowers.

"How beautiful," she could not help but say out loud.

"Not as beautiful as you, my dear."

Once again, Ercilia stills.

Out of nowhere, someone spoke from behind her. Though it took her by surprise, she immediately got into her fighting stance, preparing herself. That's until she laid eyes on an all-too-familiar face.

"Mr. Iorwerth... Isis," Ercilia muttered underneath, taken aback to find Iorwerth smiling at her like a gentleman - looking all amicable and magnanimous.

"We met at last, Ms. Ercilia Viatrix. It's a pleasure to see you again."