The library fell into a concentrated silence after the decision. Not the comfortable silence of people resting after a long conversation, but the kind of charged stillness that arises when everyone realizes they have just crossed an invisible line. Until a few hours ago, there was still the possibility that this was just a localized political dispute, an internal crisis within House Arven. Now that illusion was gone. They were organizing an operation to wrest control of one of the kingdom’s most powerful families from the hands of a paranoid, violent woman possibly involved with mind-control magic.

And worse.

They would do it quickly.

Damon observed the faces scattered around the table as the fireplace cast long shadows across the library walls. Morgana remained bent over the map of the mansion like someone about to decorate the battlefield before an execution. Elizabeth reviewed letters and names with almost surgical precision, her fingers gliding across the paper without hesitation. Cherry slowly twirled the dagger between her fingers, too engrossed for someone surrounded by aristocratic conspiracies. Ingrivid, as always, seemed the only person in that room fully aware of how terribly dangerous all of this was.

The clock above the mantelpiece struck another hour.

The sound echoed heavily.

Damon finally pulled a new map to the center of the table.

"If we are going to find Elias Varn," he said calmly, "we need to assume the Duchess has already searched for him before."

Morgana nodded immediately.

"She did."

Elizabeth looked up.

"Are you sure?"

"She hated his influence over my father." Morgana placed both hands on the table. "Elias always distrusted her. Even before all this began."

Cherry seemed interested at the same time.

"Distrusted how?"

Morgana took a few seconds to answer.

"He said she observed people like someone studying tools." Her expression hardened slightly. "As if she were always calculating usefulness. Weakness. Fear." Ingrivid let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh.

"Charming."

"And necessary," Elizabeth murmured.

Damon tapped his fingers slowly on the wooden table as he thought. The more they discovered about the Duchess, the less she seemed like an ordinary aristocrat trying to consolidate political influence. There was something profoundly wrong with the way she operated. Something too cold. Too methodical.

The bodies found in the mansion only reinforced this. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

She was no longer hiding the violence.

She was normalizing it.

"So we start with Elias," Damon concluded. "If he’s alive, he’s probably hiding far from the capital."

"Or hiding within it," Elizabeth replied. "Sometimes the best hiding place is to remain close enough to be ignored."

Cherry pointed at her immediately.

"That was menacingly clever."

"Thank you."

Morgana already seemed impatient again.

"We can discuss investigative philosophy later. The longer we delay, the more advantage she gains."

Damon looked directly at her.

"And the more we run without information, the greater the chance we end up dead."

"I still consider that an acceptable risk."

"Of course you do."

Elizabeth slowly closed one of the letters she was reviewing.

"Her urgency isn’t wrong."

Morgana gave her a quick glance, surprised by the unexpected agreement.

Elizabeth continued before she could reply.

"The Duchess is reacting too quickly for someone comfortable." She rested her elbows on the table. "Eliminating guards inside the mansion itself means something has gotten out of control."

"Intruders?" Cherry suggested.

"Perhaps." Elizabeth narrowed her eyes slightly. "Or desertions."

This immediately caught Damon’s attention.

"Guard members abandoning her?"

"Possibly." Elizabeth slowly swirled the goblet between her fingers. "Fear keeps people obedient only up to a point. After that, it starts producing betrayals."

Morgana took a deep breath.

"The old guard was loyal to my father. Many of them served House Arven for decades."

"So some may be realizing what she really is," Damon concluded.

The thought slightly changed the atmosphere in the room.

Until then, they had treated the mansion as territory completely dominated by the Duchess. But if there was internal instability, it meant cracks.

And cracks could be exploited.

Ingrivid approached the table again, carrying a fresh tray of tea. No one there seemed to remember how many hours had passed since the beginning of that meeting. The candles burned lower and lower, and the night advanced silently beyond the tall windows of the library.

"We need internal communication," she said as she served the cups. "If we find guards or servants willing to cooperate, they will need a secure way to contact us."

Cherry smiled.

"Secret messages. Finally."

"You’re having too much fun with this," Damon commented.

"It’s the first truly organized aristocratic conspiracy I’ve been a part of. I’m enjoying the experience."

Elizabeth took a small sip of wine before speaking again.

"There’s another important factor." Her gaze swept over the city map. "If the Duchess starts to suspect that part of the guard is faltering, she could replace all the old men at once."

Morgana clenched her fists immediately.

"Then we lose any internal support."

"And she turns the mansion into a complete prison," Damon concluded.

The weight of that possibility fell on everyone.

Because it meant that time was truly running out.

Morgana ran a hand through her hair slowly, trying to control her own tension.

"I’m going in today."

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a brief moment, clearly tired of the insistence.

"Morgana—"

"No." She looked up again, her gaze fixed. "Every hour matters now. If there are any guards still loyal to my father, I need to find them before she eliminates them."

Damon watched the intensity on her face for a few seconds.

That wasn’t just anger.

It was desperation trying to stay functional.

And perhaps that’s precisely why she was so dangerous.

He finally nodded slowly.

"You don’t go in alone."

Morgana immediately looked irritated.

"I can handle this."

"I have no doubt." Damon crossed his arms. "Still, you don’t go in alone."

Cherry raised her hand instantly.

"I vote for myself."

"Your enthusiasm is deeply concerning."

"But useful."

Elizabeth rested her chin on her fingers as she thought.

"In fact, she could be useful."

Everyone looked at her.

Cherry seemed emotionally touched.

"Elizabeth, that was almost kind."

"Don’t spoil the moment."

She then turned her attention to Damon.

"Cherry naturally draws attention. It’s annoying in normal situations, but extremely useful in infiltrations. People tend to underestimate her."

Cherry smiled proudly.

"Finally someone recognizes my talent."

Ingrivid let out a tired sigh.

"This will end horribly."

"Probably," Damon replied.

Morgana seemed less convinced.

"She’s chaotic."

"You just described half the people in this room," Elizabeth replied without hesitation.

Damon decided to interrupt before the discussion degenerated again.

"Alright. Morgana and Cherry enter the mansion."

Cherry almost clapped.

"Excellent."

"Ingrivid will be responsible for external routes and communication."

She nodded immediately. "I’ve already started organizing this."

"Naturally terrifying," Damon murmured under his breath.

Elizabeth ignored the comment.

"And I’ll take care of the nobles."

Morgana let out a small sound of disdain.

"Manipulating cowards."

"Convincing survivors," Elizabeth corrected. "There’s a difference."

"Small."

"Important."

Damon rubbed his temples slowly.

He was beginning to suspect that managing those women might be more difficult than taking down the Duchess.

The night wind blew against the library windows, making the candle flames flicker slightly. For a moment, no one spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable this time. It was concentration. Each person in that room was immersed in their own thoughts, assessing risks, calculating consequences, imagining scenarios that could end in glorious victory or utter disaster.

And then someone knocked on the door.

Everyone looked immediately.

The sound was discreet.

Three slow knocks.

Ingrivid frowned.

"No one should be arriving now."

Cherry was already holding the dagger again.

Morgana instinctively reached for her waist, where a short blade remained tucked under her dark coat.

Damon slowly raised his eyes.

"Who is it?"

Silence.

Then another knock.

Loudder this time.

Elizabeth slowly rose from her chair.

"I think it’s prudent to assume the worst."

"I agree," Damon replied.

Ingrivid discreetly approached the wall and pulled a small lever hidden among the bookshelves. A metallic click echoed softly through the room. Internal locks slid silently on some secondary doors in the library.

Cherry watched this with genuine admiration.

"You really live like people expecting constant murders."

"Experience," Ingrivid replied coldly.

Damon walked to the main entrance of the library without immediately opening the door.

"Last chance to announce who you are."

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

Then a voice answered from the other side.

Low.

But clearly nervous.

"I... I need to speak with Lady Morgana."

The entire atmosphere changed instantly.

Morgana narrowed her eyes.

She knew that voice.

Damon noticed immediately.

"Who is it?"

She remained silent for a second before answering.

"One of the old guards of the house."

Elizabeth stood up completely now.

"Or a trap."

"Probably both," murmured Cherry, too excited by the situation.

The man spoke again from the other side of the door.

"Please... she’s starting to kill anyone who’s still loyal to the Duke."

The silence that followed seemed to freeze the air in the entire library.

Then Morgana walked to the door.

And for the first time that night, there was something in her eyes more dangerous than anger.

Hope.

Damon held Morgana’s arm before she could reach the doorknob.

"Slowly."

She glanced irritably at his hand, but didn’t immediately pull away. That alone spoke volumes about the state of the situation. Morgana hated being restrained. The fact that she allowed this meant that even she understood the hidden risk behind that door.

On the other side, the man was breathing too fast.

Scared.

Or pretending to be.

Elizabeth approached slowly, her eyes narrowed as she assessed every detail of the silence in the outer corridor.

"Ask his name."

Morgana didn’t take her eyes off the door.

"Cedric."

There was a short pause.

Then the answer came immediately.

"Yes, my lady."

The tension in the room lessened only slightly.

"How many years have you served House Arven?" Morgana asked.

"Seventeen."

"Who trained him?" "Sir Halbrecht."

"What was his motto?"

Another pause.

Shorter this time.

"’A sword that hesitates digs its own grave.’"

Morgana finally let out a slow breath.

"It’s him."

Cherry looked disappointed.

"I expected something more dramatically suspicious."

"Keep waiting," Ingrivid replied dryly.

Damon still didn’t let go of Morgana’s arm.

"That proves he worked for your family. It doesn’t prove he wasn’t compromised."

Cedric spoke again before Morgana could answer.

"I didn’t come alone."

Silence returned immediately.

Elizabeth crossed her arms.

"How many?"

"Three men. All former guards of the Duke."

"Armed?" Damon asked.

"Yes."

Cherry smiled slowly.

"Now it’s interesting." Morgana finally gently pushed Damon’s hand away, just enough not to seem aggressive.

"They wouldn’t have come here armed if they wanted to negotiate flowers."

"Reassuring words," Elizabeth murmured.

Damon thought for a few seconds before making his decision.

"Ingrivid."

She was already prepared.

Without saying anything, she walked to another bookcase and discreetly pulled a second hidden latch. A metallic mechanism echoed softly through the mansion’s structure. Soon after, two figures silently emerged from an almost invisible side door in the library wall.

Cherry raised her eyebrows.

"You had secret guards the whole time?"

"Of course," Ingrivid replied.

"I’m starting to respect you dangerously."

The two men stood motionless near the wall. They didn’t wear noble uniforms or elaborate armor. They wore simple dark clothes and carried short swords strapped to their backs. The way they observed their surroundings made it clear they were professionals.

Morgana recognized one of them immediately.

"Rhett?"

The man tilted his head slightly.

"Lady Morgana."

Cherry pointed at Ingrivid again.

"She collects discreet assassins. Fascinating."

"Incredibly useful, too," Damon commented.

Elizabeth watched everything in silence, clearly recalculating how many pieces Ingrivid kept hidden without the knowledge of the rest of the house.

Damon finally looked back at the door.

"We open it partially. If there’s any strange movement, we take them all down."

Cherry seemed genuinely excited.

"This is officially my favorite meeting."

Ingrivid opened only one of the inner locks.

The door creaked slowly.

Cedric entered first.

His state made the atmosphere of the library change immediately.

The man looked exhausted.

Not tired.

Exhausted.

The guards’ clothes were stained with dried blood and dirt. A cut ran across part of his forehead to the side of his face. His eyes held the kind of constant tension of someone who had spent hours waiting for a knife to appear in the dark.

The other three men entered right behind them.

All armed.

All equally broken.

Morgana observed each of them in absolute silence.

Then something rare happened.

Her expression wavered.

For just a second, she ceased to look like a furious heiress plotting a civil war. She looked only like someone seeing ghosts of a life she believed lost.

"Cedric..." Her voice came out lower than she intended. "What happened?"

The guard took a few seconds to answer.

Because he seemed to be fighting against his own pride.

"She’s gone mad."

The sentence fell in the room like lead.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Explain."

Cedric took a deep breath before continuing.

"The old men started disappearing weeks ago. First transfers. Then punishments. Then..." He hesitated. "Then the bodies started appearing."

Cherry stopped smiling.

The humor finally left the situation.

Damon observed the guard’s face intently.

He didn’t seem to be lying.

He looked terrified.

"How many?" Damon asked.

Cedric looked away.

"We don’t know."

Morgana clenched her fists slowly.

"Does my father know?"

The man took too long to answer.

And that was already an answer.

Morgana’s expression hardened dangerously.

"Cedric."

"The Duke..." The guard swallowed hard. "The Duke hardly speaks anymore."

The following silence was brutal.

Even Elizabeth lost some of her calculated composure for a moment.

Cedric continued:

"He sits for hours staring into space. Sometimes he doesn’t recognize anyone. Sometimes he starts sentences and stops mid-sentence as if he’s forgotten where he is." The man clenched his teeth. "And when the Duchess enters the room, he changes immediately."

Damon exchanged a silent glance with Elizabeth.

Mental manipulation.

Less and less of a hypothesis.

More and more a fact.

Morgana seemed motionless.

Dangerously motionless.

Cherry noticed first.

"Oh, no."

Damon noticed too.

Her anger was exceeding the normal point.

"Morgana."

She didn’t answer.

Cedric lowered his voice even more.

"She keeps two men constantly at the door of the Duke’s chambers now. No one enters without direct authorization."

"She’s made him a prisoner," said Morgana, almost emotionlessly.

"Yes."

The air in the library felt too heavy to breathe.

Elizabeth slowly approached the central table.

"That changes everything."

"I know," replied Damon.

Because now they had internal confirmation.

Not rumors.

Not political suspicions.

Not theories.

The Duchess was isolating the Duke and systematically eliminating members of the guard loyal to the old House Arven.

This went beyond aristocratic conspiracy.

It was a power grab.

Cedric then took something out of his coat.

A dark red ribbon.

Stained with blood.

He slowly placed the object on the table.

Morgana recognized it immediately.

Her face lost any trace of color.

"No..." she whispered.

Damon frowned.

"What is this?"

Her voice was low.

"It belonged to Sir Halbrecht."

Cedric nodded slowly.

"We found it near the old well behind the west wing."

Cherry finally understood.

"Oh."

Morgana closed her eyes for a moment.

Sir Halbrecht wasn’t just a guard.

He was the man who had trained her as a child. The first to teach her how to hold a sword. The man who had spent years protecting the Duke even before the Duchess arrived at the mansion.

And now he was probably dead.

The entire library fell silent again.

But this time it was different.

Before there was political tension.

Now there was mourning.

And hatred.

So much hatred.

Damon watched Morgana carefully.

She stood still, staring fixedly at the bloodstained tape on the table as if trying to stop her own mind from crumbling.

Elizabeth was the first to perceive the real danger.

"Morgana."

Nothing.

Then Elizabeth moved closer.

"If you enter that mansion consumed by rage, it wins."

Finally Morgana raised her eyes.

And that frightened even Damon.

Because there were tears there.

But there was also something far worse.

Coldness.

Absolute coldness.

"No," she said softly.

Her hand slid slowly to the blade strapped to her waist.

"She dies."