Eileen’s POV

The room was quiet.

Only the soft glow of the screen illuminated my face as I sat back on the edge of my bed, my posture relaxed but my eyes focused.

A video call connected.

The moment the line stabilized, a familiar presence appeared on the screen.

My master.

His expression was calm, composed—as if distance and time meant nothing.

His gaze settled on me immediately.

“You’ve been mistreated,” he said plainly.

I didn’t respond right away.

“…It’s nothing,” I replied.

A brief pause.

He studied me.

Then spoke again, his tone softer, but no less certain.

“You don’t need to endure what you don’t deserve.”

My fingers...