Vera was right.
Ilya was in no position to change anything, and given both his circumstances and his current capabilities, the only role left to him was that of a bystander.
No matter how much he wanted to interfere, reality remained indifferent to his intentions.
Even so, time continued to tick away without waiting for anyone. Ilya had never lived under the illusion that life was painted in bright colors or rewarded good intentions with happy endings, nor had he ever believed he was obligated to reach out and save every person whose fate he happened to know.
If he could change someone’s future, then he would. If he couldn’t, then it was simply a tragedy he had to accept.
Because that, in the end, was the consequence of being ordinary. It was the price of failing to meet expectations, of lacking the strength to drag himself out of the abyss with his own hands, let alone pull someone else out alongside him.
Until he had the power to stand on his own, any hand he reached out to another would only risk pulling them down with him.
Yet even so, Ilya found himself standing before the gates of House Neidhardt. He had not come here under the delusion that he could save Helene, nor had he come believing that a few words would somehow change the course of her life.
He came because he needed to see it with his own eyes.
He needed proof.
He needed to know that this "person" truly could not be saved.
The guards stationed outside the estate naturally moved to block his path the moment they noticed the unfamiliar visitor approaching the gates.
Before either of them could demand his business, however, Ilya calmly introduced himself.
"I’m Ilya Valentinovich Belozersky," he said. "Son of the Northern Grand Duke, Valentin Petrovich Belozersky."
The guards exchanged startled glances before one of them hurried inside to verify his identity.
Only a few minutes later, the servant who had disappeared returned in a near panic, and everyone present promptly lowered their heads before stepping aside to clear the path into the Neidhardt estate.
One of the servants excused himself and hurried into the mansion, no doubt to inform the master of the estate that an unexpected guest had arrived.
The wait did not last long, and soon, the front doors opened once more. Rather than sending another servant to receive him, the lady of the house chose to greet him personally.
A graceful woman who appeared to be in her early forties stepped outside with elegant steps. Though the years had left faint traces at the corners of her eyes, they did little to diminish her beauty.
There was little doubt about her identity.
Viscountess Neidhardt, Helene Erika Neidhardt’s mother.
"To think the son of the Northern Grand Duke would honor my humble estate with a visit," the viscountess said with a graceful curtsy. "Forgive my tardiness. Had I known of your arrival sooner, I would have prepared a proper reception."
"There’s no need for that," Ilya replied with a slight shake of his head. "I came here on personal business."
"Personal business?"
The viscountess’s smile remained unchanged, though a trace of curiosity surfaced in her eyes.
"If I may ask... what brings the heir of House Belozersky to House Neidhardt?"
Heir.
So this family was out of the loop. That was hardly surprising. Matters concerning the Grand Duke’s household rarely spread beyond the circles of the upper nobility, and a viscount family from the provinces would naturally be among the last to learn that Ilya had never been considered the heir in the first place.
Rather than correcting her, Ilya decided to let the misunderstanding stand.
"I’m a friend of your daughter, Helene," Ilya replied calmly. "I heard that she’d suddenly withdrawn from the academy, so I came to ask if everything was alright. The decision was so abrupt that none of us had the chance to hear the reason from her directly."
Viscountess Neidhardt’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments before returning as though nothing had happened. Whatever the reason behind Helene’s withdrawal was, it was evidently not something her mother had expected to explain to one of her classmates.
"I see..." she said after a short pause. "I’m grateful that my daughter has friends thoughtful enough to visit her, but I’m afraid Helene isn’t receiving visitors at the moment. She’s been feeling rather unwell since returning home."
"Unwell?"
"Both physically and mentally," she answered with a weary sigh. "The incident on Mount Serebryany affected her more deeply than she lets on. As her mother, I believe it’s best that she remain here and recover away from the academy for the time being."
Ilya scrutinized the viscountess’s face.
The explanation sounded reasonable enough, yet it felt as though the woman had already given the same answer several times before.
Whether it was the truth or merely a convenient excuse, that was exactly what Ilya had come here to find out.
"I only need to see her once, My Lady," Ilya said. "Just a few minutes would be enough."
The viscountess lowered her gaze for a moment before offering him an apologetic smile.
"I’m afraid that isn’t a decision I can make."
"...What do you mean?"
"In the first place, Helene isn’t here."
"...."
"As we speak, she’s working."
"...Excuse me?"
A trace of embarrassment crossed the woman’s face.
"It is hardly something a mother wishes to admit," she said. "But House Neidhardt has long been involved in the management of several licensed pleasure houses throughout the capital. Helene is currently at one of our establishments, attending to a group of distinguished patrons."
For a brief moment, Ilya wondered whether he had misheard her.
"You mean... she’s working at a brothel?"
"Yes. At present, Helene is one of our establishment’s most sought-after companions. An evening in her company is reserved exclusively for our highest-ranking patrons, and even counts, marquises, and influential merchants compete fiercely for the privilege of requesting her."
"...."
"Appointments are arranged months in advance, and many leave disappointed. To the establishment, she is our greatest attraction."
"...."
For a long moment, Ilya said nothing. His thoughts came to a complete stop as he slowly processed the word.
"Pardon my bluntness, My Lady," he said. "But... are you out of your mind?"
The servants around them felt their hearts drop immediately. Even the viscountess seemed momentarily taken aback by the question, though to her credit, she neither raised her voice nor allowed her composure to break.
"I understand why you would react that way, Lord Belozersky," she replied. "Anyone hearing it for the first time would."
"So you know it’s wrong."
"I know it sounds wrong. But appearances and reality are seldom the same."
"...."
"She is my daughter," the viscountess continued. "Do you truly believe I would force her to walk a path I have never walked myself?"
"...."
"I, too, was raised within one of our establishments," she said. "Long before I became the Viscount’s wife, I entertained nobles, merchants, and wealthy patrons. It was there that I met my husband, and it was there that House Neidhardt secured the alliances that allowed us to survive when every other source of income failed."
She lowered her gaze, though there was no shame in her expression.
"Helene is merely following the road that was laid before her, just as I once did."
"The road you laid before her," Ilya corrected.
"Yes."
"And you don’t see anything wrong with that?"
"What I see is a mother ensuring that her daughter never experiences hunger, poverty, or the downfall of her family."
Ilya’s expression hardened.
"So your solution was to sell her."
"No." She shook her head. "My solution was to entrust her with the livelihood of this household."
"They’re paying for access to your daughter."
"They are paying for the privilege of her company."
"They’re paying because she’s your daughter."
The viscountess remained silent for a moment before speaking again.
"And what alternative would you have chosen, Lord Belozersky?"
She took a slow breath, her voice never rising despite the tension between them.
"You were born into House Belozersky, one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in the Empire. You have never had to wonder whether your household would survive another winter or whether tomorrow’s debts would force your family into ruin. It is easy to condemn the choices of others when privilege has spared you from ever making them."
"...."
"So tell me. What right do you have to judge my family?"
"...."
"You speak as though there were another path. If there was, then tell me what it was. Tell me how a declining viscount’s household was supposed to preserve its lands, feed its retainers, and repay generations of debt without sacrificing something in return."
"...."
"Before I became the Viscountess of House Neidhardt," she continued, "I worked in one of his establishments. I was born with neither title nor inheritance, and I had nowhere else to go. That house fed me, clothed me, and gave me a place to live long before I ever became his wife."
She looked toward the mansion behind her.
"It was there that I met the viscount. People may call it disgraceful, but to me, it was the place that gave me a life."
"...."
"As for Helene... withdrawing from the academy was her own decision. I never forced her to do so."
"...Even so, there was never any reason to involve your daughter," he said. "House Neidhardt has no shortage of employees capable of managing your establishments. Whatever burden the viscount chose to shoulder should have ended with your generation—"
"You think I never wished for that?!"
"...."
"F-Forgive me for raising my voice," she said. "But what future do you imagine awaited her? Do you truly believe any respectable noble house would extend a hand in marriage to ours?"
"...."
"The Empire has a long memory, Lord Belozersky," she continued. "The same nobles who secretly visit our establishments would never allow their sons to marry into House Neidhardt. They may enjoy what my husband built behind closed doors, but they would never acknowledge us as equals under the light of day."
She gave a bitter smile that never quite reached her eyes.
"They would accept our hospitality... They would accept our money. They would even accept our loyalty... But they would never accept us as family..."
"Even so—"
"Even so!" the viscountess interrupted, unable to keep the emotion from her voice. "Everything I’ve done... everything my husband built... it was all so Helene could survive! You call it cruel, and perhaps it is, but the world has never once been kind to families like ours!"
"...."
Ilya looked at the woman before him. It was clear to Ilya that arguing any further would not change her mind, nor would it undo the choices that had already been made.
"...My Lady... where is the establishment?"