"If they wish to host a banquet after killing my son, then so be it."

***

The Rycoff mansion was bustling with activity as servants rushed about, setting up and preparing everything needed for the banquet that would be hosted later that evening. Trays of polished silverware were carried through wide corridors, goblets were arranged with care, and long tables were draped in fine linens. The air itself seemed charged with urgency.

Lord Davien Rycoff was known for many things, some of them were admirable, while others were decidedly unsavory but his eldest son, Kaz Rycoff, had become renowned for one thing in particular: the lavish events he hosted. No expense was spared, no detail overlooked and this gathering was no different. Everyone from distant relatives and old family friends to some close political allies was expected to attend, associates who were deep in Lord Rycoff’s pocket.

As the eldest son and heir to the Rycoff fortune, Kaz treated the family estate as his domain, especially with his father absent on official business outside the capital. With Lord Davien away, there was no one to question his decisions or temper his extravagance.

A sudden commotion stirred near the gates, a string of raised voices cutting through the steady rhythm of preparation. It was not loud enough to draw widespread attention, but it was clear that a confrontation was taking place.

The housekeeper had been speaking with one of the kitchen staff when he heard the disturbance. A frown marred his features as he turned toward the sound, dismissing the maid with a brisk flick of his wrist. He moved swiftly across the courtyard. As he drew closer, he saw two men arguing with one of the guards, their postures tense and defensive.

"What seems to be the issue here?" the housekeeper asked once he was near enough to command their attention.

The argument ceased at once.

The guard turned stiffly toward him. "I found these two strange men skulking around the grounds. They are not part of the servants who serve House Rycoff, nor do I recall granting them entry today," he reported sternly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

The housekeeper allowed his gaze to travel over the two men. Their clothing was worn but neat, their shoes scuffed. They stood with their heads slightly bowed, offering no protest.

"These men are part of the new hires for the banquet," the housekeeper replied smoothly. "We are short-staffed and require additional hands to manage the ceremony and ensure everything proceeds without incident. It forced me to employ a few workers at the last minute. I have already received the lord’s approval. I would have thought someone had passed the message on to you."

The guard’s eyes swept over the two men once more, suspicion lingering in his narrowed gaze. After a moment, he gave a reluctant nod.

"See to it that they are not caught skulking around the property again. The next time they are found wandering, I will personally have them thrown out," he warned gruffly before turning on his heel and striding away.

Left alone with the newcomers, the housekeeper’s polite demeanor vanished.

"What are the two of you still doing standing around?" he snapped sharply. "Get out of my sight. There is work to be done."

And indeed, there was. Tonight had to unfold flawlessly.

The men obeyed, walking away without uttering a single word or even glancing back.

The hours slipped by swiftly, swallowed by the frenzy of final preparations. By the time the sun began dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of amber and violet, the first set of guests arrived. They came adorned in their best fineries— women draped in expensive silks, jewels glittering at their throats and wrists; men clad in tailored attires. Carriages lined the grounds, horses snorting softly as attendants rushed to assist their distinguished passengers.

At the mansion’s main entrance, each guest was required to surrender their sword. Guards conducted thorough searches, divesting them of any concealed weapons. The same procedure followed for the second wave of arrivals, then the third, and even the fourth. Every single guest was made to relinquish their weapons before being granted entry into the banquet hall.

Violent altercations had broken out in the past within Lord Rycoff’s home during events such as these, particularly when nobles grew deep in their cups and old rivalries resurfaced. It seemed logical enough that Kaz Rycoff intended to avoid a repeat of such embarrassments.

Inside the banquet hall, musicians played a lively tone on stringed instruments, their melodies weaving through the air like silk. The music blended effortlessly with the hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. Chandeliers cast warm golden light over the assembled guests, illuminating polished floors.

From the upper level, the housekeeper observed the mingling crowd below. For the first time that day, he allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. His efforts were finally coming together just as intended.

After lingering for a few moments longer, he made his way toward the kitchens. Along the corridor, he passed one of the newly hired workers. The man kept his gaze lowered, but the housekeeper offered him a subtle nod before continuing on.

The kitchens were a storm of frantic motion. Servants hurried in and out with trays balanced carefully in their hands.

The housekeeper paused by the entrance, surveying the organized chaos. His gaze shifted from one corner of the room to another before settling on one of the cooks. The cook had already noticed his presence and was watching him intently.

Their eyes met. The two shared a loaded, meaningful look. The house was far too crowded for conversation, and the risk of being overheard was too great. Yet that single glance conveyed everything that needed to be said.

Everyone involved had already been paid and compensated. Now, all that remained was for the banquet to end without a hitch.

Not long after, servants began filing into the hall in careful procession, balancing large silver trays laden with food. Others followed with heavy pitchers brimming with dark wine and blood. Their footsteps were brisk but disciplined, trained not to disrupt the revelry already in full swing.

The sound of their combined voices rolled through the banquet hall in swelling waves, rising high enough to echo along the rafters and spill down the corridors beyond, loud with merriment. Kaz’s voice towered above the rest, boisterous, and careless, as he threw his head back in laughter, raising his cup in yet another toast. Not one of them seemed to sense the danger looming close with every second that passed.

While the hall basked in the celebration, chaos was quietly taking root across the estate grounds. The outbuildings were set ablaze one after the other, flames licking hungrily at timber beams. Smoke coiled into the night sky in thick, black plumes. The sharp crackle of fire devouring wood split the air, followed swiftly by frantic shouts.

The first panicked shout shattered the stillness, and within moments the guards abandoned their assigned posts, racing toward the blaze. Buckets were drawn frantically from the wells, water sloshing over the rims as men sprinted back and forth in desperate attempts to quench the inferno. Orders were barked over the roar of crackling timber. Sparks leapt wildly into the air, carried by the wind, threatening to spread the destruction further. The night, once calm and orderly, dissolved into chaos and confusion.