The situation was baffling. Damian could not fathom why someone like Lila, a prominent figure in the castle, would show interest in him, a mere servant.
'Is she testing me?' Damian wondered.
After their dinner was over, Damian cleared all the plates and tidied up her room before leaving.
"Bye bye!" Lila said, waving at him.
Damian left the private area of the castle and headed to another block, where all the servants lived. Jaden, the person Damian had kidnapped to take his appearance, was one of them.
It was not as luxurious as the private block where Miller, his family, and the VIPs lived, but it was comfortable enough. The room reminded Damian of the one he first got when he arrived in the castle to work as a guard.
'At least my room is decent. But what was that sword, and why did Lila act that way?'
When Damian touched the sword hanging on her bedroom wall, a strange energy surged through his body, something he had never experienced before. He wanted to learn more about the sword. Maybe he could steal it before leaving the castle?
But of course, despite his curiosity, his mind was focused on something else: finding ways to assassinate Miller without anyone noticing, and rescuing Natasha's sister and bringing her to Natasha.
'But how can I do this?'
Damian spent the next few days fulfilling his daily duties as a servant, while also keeping a close eye on Miller, studying his routine. He noticed the places he visited, the activities he engaged in, and what Damian could exploit to harm him.
What Damian learned was that Miller had grown paranoid after his son's death. He seldom left his private quarters, except to go to the throne room where he often met with foreign dignitaries, influential people who might strike deals with the Snowheart family.
But Damian spotted one opportunity! Miller felt threatened by some unknown force and decided to host a banquet with neighboring families to discuss cooperation.
A banquet like that was Damian's best shot at killing him! He still possessed the poison flask that someone had used to frame him, and that could work wonders during the feast!
The day of the banquet arrived, and Damian was assigned to serve drinks to the guests. Wearing a simple uniform that matched the other servants, he carried a tray with various cups and bottles. The poison flask was hidden in his pocket, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Scanning the room, he looked for Miller. The man was sitting at the head of a long table, surrounded by his allies and enemies. Nervous and tense, Miller seemed to expect something bad to happen. Damian smirked inwardly. He was right to be afraid.
Damian approached the table, pretending to be polite and respectful. He offered drinks to the people sitting near Miller, hoping to get closer to his target. A glass of wine was in front of Miller, half-empty. Damian saw an opportunity.
Reaching for the poison flask in his pocket, he discreetly poured a few drops into Miller's glass when no one was looking. He hoped that the poison would be colorless and odorless, and that it would act fast enough to kill Miller before anyone noticed.
He moved away from the table, acting as if nothing had happened. From a distance, he watched Miller, waiting for the effects of the poison to kick in.
He didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later, Miller raised his glass to his lips and took a sip of his wine. He immediately choked and coughed, dropping his glass on the floor. His throat was clutched by his hand, as he gasped for air. His face turned red, then purple, then blue.
Miller fell off his chair, convulsing on the ground. His eyes rolled back in his head. Miller was dead.
A scream pierced the air, followed by shouts of panic and confusion. People rushed to Miller's side, trying to help him or check his pulse. Some accused others of poisoning him, while others denied any involvement. Chaos ensued.
Damian smiled triumphantly. He had done it. He had killed Miller.
The commotion in the banquet hall grew louder as a group of guards entered the room. They saw Miller's lifeless body on the floor, and heard the accusations flying around. They quickly realized what had happened.
"Someone has poisoned the lord!" one of them shouted. "Close the doors! No one leaves until we find the killer!"
Rushing to the exits, they locked them with heavy bolts. They then began to search the room, interrogating everyone they could find. They checked their drinks, their clothes, their pockets. They looked for any signs of guilt or suspicion.
Damian knew he had to act fast. He couldn't let them find him with the poison flask. He had to get rid of it somehow. Scanning the room, he looked for a place to hide it.
A large fireplace at one end of the room caught his eye, with a pile of logs next to it. He thought that might be a good place to stash the flask. Avoiding the guards and the guests, he made his way towards it.
Reaching the fireplace, Damian quickly tossed the flask behind the logs. He hoped no one would notice it there. He then turned around, and tried to blend in with the other servants.
He pretended to be shocked and scared by what had happened. He acted as if he had nothing to do with it. He hoped that would be enough to fool the guards.
But he knew he wasn't safe yet. He still had to escape from the castle. He wondered how he could do that with all the doors locked and guarded.
Searching for another way out, Damian noticed a window on the opposite wall, overlooking the courtyard. He thought that might be his only chance.
Damian waited for an opportunity to slip away from the crowd, hoping no one would see him or stop him.
He managed to reach the window only to see it was locked, and a guard spoke behind him.
"Is something wrong here?"
The guard there was bad, but what was even worse was the shout Damian heard.
"Miller has pulse!"
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