THE dim, flickering light in the small, isolated room did nothing to soften the tension. The air was heavy with an eerie stillness as Orlanda sat trembling, her voice barely above a whisper, yet cutting through the silence like a blade.

"I... I poisoned your lunch, sir," she confessed, her words trembling but resolute.

Oswald stood motionless, his face an unreadable mask, the room cloaked in shadows. For a moment, the darkness seemed to consume him. He neither flinched nor uttered a word. His silence was more unnerving than fury.

The only sound was Orlanda's uneven breathing, echoing off the cold stone walls. She waited for an explosion of rage,...