By the time they returned to the outskirts, the sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in bruised shades of purple and charcoal.

  ?Marcus was waiting in front of Flora's cottage, his arms crossed, leaning against the peeling fence. He looked tired.

  ?"I've been waiting for you," he said, straightening up as they approached.

  ?"Sorry for the delay," Zaek said. "How did it go?"

  ?Marcus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It wasn't easy. There was a lot of crying... a lot of anger. But eventually, she calmed down. I convinced her to listen."

  ?"That's good." Zaek nodded. "Let's go in."

  ?He took a step forward, but Marcus held up a hand to stop him.

  ?"Not you." Marcus looked at Zaek, then shifted his gaze to Aelira. "She only wants to see the girl. Her alone."

  ?"I see..."

  ?Zaek stopped. He looked down at Aelira.

  ?She looked small in the fading light, her hands clutching the hem of her cloak. The blue house loomed behind Marcus like a tomb.

  ?Zaek knelt on one knee so he could look her directly in the eyes.

  ?"Can you handle this?" he asked softly.

  ?Aelira looked at the dark windows of the cottage. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, but she swallowed the fear.

  ?"Yes."

  ?"Listen," Zaek whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to listen to her if she says anything. You have no sin."

  ?"I will."

  ?"If anything happens—if she screams, if you feel unsafe—just come outside. I'll be right here."

  ?Aelira nodded. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the cool evening air, and stepped past Marcus.

  ?She walked up the overgrown path, the dry weeds crunching under her boots.

  ?Knock. Knock.

  ?There was no answer.

  ?She looked back at Marcus. He gave her a solemn nod, signaling her to enter.

  ?She pushed the door open.

  ?Creak.

  ?The inside was swallowed by shadows. It smelled of old dust, damp wood, and stale air—the scent of a house that had stopped living a long time ago.

  ?The main room was in disarray, just as they had left it. The shattered remains of the vase still lay on the floor, glistening in the moonlight.

  ?Aelira saw a single door left slightly ajar at the end of the hallway. A faint, flickering candlelight spilled from within.

  ?She walked toward it, her footsteps echoing on the wooden floorboards.

  ?She peeked inside.

  ?It was a small, simple bedroom. Unlike the rest of the house, this room was tidy. A small wooden bed, a wardrobe, and a desk.

  ?Flora was sitting on the edge of the bed, her back hunched, staring at nothing.

  ?"Come in."

  ?Her voice was barely a whisper, devoid of the rage from yesterday. It sounded hollow.

  ?Hesitating, Aelira stepped inside.

  ?"Sit."

  ?Flora patted the space beside her on the mattress.

  ?Aelira approached slowly, fighting the urge to flee, and sat down. The mattress was thin and hard.

  ?"This was her bed," Flora said softly. Her hand moved over the worn quilt, caressing the fabric as if it were made of silk. As if she were stroking a child's hair.

  ?"I waited," the old woman murmured. "Every night for six years... I kept the sheets clean. Thinking she would come back, tired from the journey, and sleep here again."

  ?A lump formed in Aelira’s throat, hot and painful.

  ?She waited. Just like I did.

  ?"I... I heard she was your nanny," Flora said, turning her head slowly to look at Aelira. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy in the candlelight. "How was it? Did she... did she take good care of you?"

  ?Aelira’s vision blurred with tears.

  ?"Yes," she whispered, her voice trembling. "She was the kindest person I ever knew. She was the only one who held my hand when I was scared. She was... wonderful."

  ?A faint, tragic smile touched Flora's lips.

  ?"She always loved children... even when she was little."

  ?Flora looked at Aelira, really looked at her, seeing past the noble name and the silver hair.

  ?"You must have cared for her deeply," Flora said, "to come all this way, after six years, just to ask for her."

  ?Aelira wanted to explain, wanted to pour out her heart, but the words stuck.

  ?Flora sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

  ?"I know," the old woman said softly. "You didn't know, did you? They told you she had gone back home. That's what you believed."

  ?Aelira nodded, a single tear escaping down her cheek.

  ?"Yes... I thought she was here. Safe."

  ?"Lies," Flora whispered, her hand tightening on the quilt. "It was all lies."

  ?She turned her gaze back to Aelira. The anger was gone, replaced by a desperate, clawing confusion.

  ?"Then... tell me. Where is she?"

  ?Aelira froze.

  ?"If she isn't at the mansion... and she never came here..." Flora’s voice cracked, trembling like a dry leaf in the wind. "Where is my daughter? Where did she go?"

  ?"I..." Aelira looked down at her lap, her fists clenching the fabric of her skirt.

  ?I don't know.

  ?That was the cruelest truth of all.

  ?She wanted to say it was bandits. She wanted to say she ran away with a lover, like the men in the tavern joked. She even wanted to scream that her own parents might be responsible.

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  ?But she couldn't.

  ?Zaek was right. Without proof, those were just stories. And stories didn't heal wounds.

  ?"I don't know," Aelira whispered, her voice barely audible. "But I want to find out. I promise you."

  ?She reached out and gently covered Flora's trembling hands with her own. She tried to pour every ounce of her sincerity into that touch.

  ?"Please, Flora. Think back. Is there anything... anything at all that stood out in her last months? Something in her letters? A strange request?"

  ?Flora sank into silence, her watery eyes staring at the flickering candle flame. The room fell quiet, save for the wind rattling the windowpane.

  ?"There is... one thing," Flora murmured finally. "It started about three months before the letters stopped."

  ?"What was it?"

  ?"The money."

  ?Aelira frowned. "The money she sent home?"

  ?"Yes. Every month, she sent a portion of her wages. She never missed a beat, not once in six years. But..." Flora hesitated, biting her lip. "The last three packages... they were heavy."

  ?"Heavy?"

  ?"Much larger than usual. The first time, I thought she had received a bonus. But the next month, and the month after... It was a small fortune. The worst had a few thousand Dalmas in it."

  ?Aelira’s eyes widened.

  ?Few thousand Dalmas?

  ?"Did she say where it came from?"

  ?"No." Flora shook her head slowly. "I wrote back, telling her she shouldn't send us everything, that she should save for herself. But she just replied: 'Mother, take it. Fix the roof. Buy good food. Don't worry about me.'"

  ?That's weird. Her salary itself shouldn't be higher than a few thousand.

  ?"Is there anything else?" Aelira asked, her heart racing. "Did she mention a new job? Or a person?"

  ?Flora fell into thought again. Then, she slowly stood up, her joints popping in the quiet room.

  ?"Wait here."

  ?She walked to the small wooden wardrobe in the corner—Lassandra's old wardrobe. She pulled open the bottom drawer and retrieved a small, worn wooden box.

  ?She carried it back to the bed and placed it on her lap. Her hands trembled as she lifted the lid.

  ?Inside were dozens of envelopes, tied together with faded ribbons.

  ?"Here," Flora whispered, handing the bundle to Aelira.

  ?"These are..."

  ?"Her letters. I kept them all. Every single one." Flora looked away, a fresh tear tracing a path down her cheek. "My eyes... they aren't what they used to be. And my heart... I can't bear to read them again. I can't hear her voice in my head anymore without breaking."

  ?She pushed the letters into Aelira's hands.

  ?"Read them. Look for your answers. Maybe... maybe you can see something I missed."

  ?Aelira took the bundle. The paper felt brittle, fragile. Like the hope in this room.

  ?"I will," Aelira said softly. "Thank you, Flora."

  ?Aelira sat by the flickering candlelight, the bundle of letters resting heavily in her lap.

  ?Flora watched her in silence, wiping her eyes with a ragged handkerchief.

  ?With trembling fingers, Aelira untied the faded ribbon. She bypassed the old ones—the ones from when she was five or six—and went straight to the end. The last three months before the silence began.

  ?She unfolded the first paper. The handwriting was familiar. Neat, sharp, slightly slanted.

  ?Lassandra.

  ?"Mother, the winter is harsh this year. My hands are chapped from washing the linens in cold water. But don't worry, the young miss gave me a pair of gloves. She is growing so fast, though she is still stubborn about eating her carrots..."

  ?Aelira smiled sadly, a tear tracing the curve of her cheek. She complained about me even then. She never gave up on those carrots.

  ?She opened the next one.

  ?"Lady Vivianne is in a foul mood lately. Everyone walks on eggshells. I broke a teacup yesterday and thought I would be fired, but I was only scolded. I miss your stew. The food here is fancy but has no soul... Don’t worry about the money I gave you. I have enough."

  ?And the last one.

  ?"I will be taking a break soon. I saved enough for the trip. I can't wait to sleep in my own bed. Love, Lassandra."

  ?Aelira frowned. She read them again. And again.

  ?She looked up at Flora, confusion knitting her brow.

  ?"Flora... are you sure these letters came with the gold?"

  ?"Yes," the old woman nodded. "Is there something wrong?"

  ?"It doesn't make any sense..." Aelira murmured, staring at the ink. "The only time she mentions money is to tell you not to worry. She worries about a broken teacup, about cold water... but she sends a fortune in the same envelope?"

  ?If she had thousands of Dalmas... why would she be terrified of breaking a single cup?

  ?It was as if the person writing the letters and the person sending the gold were living in two different realities.

  ?Aelira picked up the last piece of paper—the one promising her return. She turned it over carefully, inspecting the parchment front and back.

  ?Her fingers tingled.

  ?This one...

  ?It was faint. So faint that an ordinary mage might have missed it. But Aelira had spent years training her sensitivity under Zaek.

  ?Magic.

  ?There was a residue of mana on the paper. Not the accidental kind, but something deliberate. A seal? A compulsion? Or perhaps... the ink itself wasn't dry when a spell was cast nearby?

  ?Maybe Sensei can explain this.

  ?"It's just weird..." Aelira said, trying to keep her voice steady. "If she had actually received a bonus or a raise, she would have told you excitedly. She wouldn't hide it."

  ?"You think so?" Flora asked, her hope wavering.

  ?Aelira looked her in the eyes. She felt nervous, like she was holding a burning coal.

  ?"Can I take this last one?"

  ?"The last one?"

  ?"Yes. The one where she mentions coming home. I... I want to check something."

  ?Flora hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "It's okay. If this can help you figure it out... take it. Take them all if you must."

  ?"Thanks..."

  ?Aelira tucked the letter safely into her pocket. She stood up, her heart heavy.

  ?"I will find the answer, Flora. I promise."

  ?Outside, the night was cold. The wind howled through the dry fields, rattling the fence.

  ?Zaek was leaning against the post, watching the stars. He straightened up as Aelira emerged from the gloom.

  ?"Well?" he asked quietly. "What did you find?"

  ?Aelira walked up to him. She didn't speak immediately. Instead, she pulled the letter from her pocket and handed it to him, her hands trembling slightly.

  ?"Read this, Sensei. And... feel it."

  ?"Well, let's move somewhere else first," Zaek muttered, guiding her away from the cottage to the shadow of a large oak tree.

  ?He took the paper. He scanned the contents quickly, then closed his eyes, extending his senses.

  ?"This is..."

  ?"Magic," Aelira whispered. "I felt it."

  ?"It's faint," Zaek admitted. "So faint I wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't pointed it out."

  ?"There's more," Aelira added urgently. "Flora mentioned that before this last letter, she had been sending extra money. Thousands of Dalmas."

  ?Zaek’s eyes snapped open. The paper crinkled under his tightening grip.

  ?"..."

  ?He looked at the letter, then at the girl.

  ?The pieces fell into place, forming a picture that was ugly and jagged.

  ?Gold sent without explanation.

  ?Mundane letters used as a cover.

  ?And magic residue on the paper.

  ?This wasn't just hush money. This was a set-up.

  ?Someone framed her.

  ?Lassandra didn't know about the gold. Someone intercepted her letters, added the coin, and resealed them with magic. Why? To make it look like she was stealing? To paint her as a thief selling secrets?

  ?The rumors from six years ago drifted into his mind. Celdric. The man who despised Aelira's potential.

  ?It fit his style perfectly. Celdric didn't like getting his hands bloody; he preferred scandals. He preferred to ruin reputations. Framing the nanny to hurt the child... that was exactly the kind of petty, cruel game he would play.

  ?But if it was just a scandal... where is she?

  ?Usually, a thief is put on trial. Or publicly fired. Or whipped in the courtyard.

  ?Lassandra just... vanished.

  ?Zaek’s gaze darkened.

  ?Vivianne.

  ?If Celdric planted the evidence, he might have taken it to Vivianne. And Vivianne... she doesn't do "scandals." She doesn't air dirty laundry. If she thought a maid was a thief, she wouldn't put her on trial.

  ?She would erase her.

  ?One sibling creates the lie. The other executes the punishment.

  ?Whether they planned it together or Celdric simply lost control of the monster he poked... the result was the same. The machinery of House Viremont had crushed Lassandra to dust.

  ?And Aelira was standing right in the middle of their wreckage.

  ?Zaek looked down at her. She was waiting for an answer. For a plan.

  ?If I tell her this... If I tell her that her existence is the reason her nanny was framed and killed...

  ?She will break. Or she will burn herself out trying to fight a war she can't win yet.

  ?He had to lie. He had to be the wall between her and the abyss.

  ?"It means nothing," Zaek said, his voice flat and unyielding.

  ?Aelira blinked. "What?"

  ?"The magic. It's just mana she unconsciously poured into the ink. That sometimes happens with people under stress."

  ?"Unconsciously?" Aelira stepped back, disbelief written on her face. "But it felt deliberate! And the money? Thousands of Dalmas?"

  ?"I can't say anything about the money," Zaek lied, his face a mask of indifference. "Maybe she wanted to surprise her mother. Maybe she had a wealthy lover. We don't know."

  ?"But—"

  ?"Sorry to say this, kid," Zaek cut her off, turning his gaze to the dark horizon. "But we have nothing. Just guesses."

  ?"Nothing? But the gold proves—"

  ?"It proves nothing!" Zaek snapped, his voice harsher than he intended. "You can't solve a six-year-old mystery with a smudge of mana and some coins. You have to give up."

  ?"Huh?"

  ?Drip.

  ?A drop of rain hit Aelira’s cheek. Then another. A cold, miserable drizzle began to fall.

  ?"You are telling me... to give up?" Aelira whispered. "Why?"

  ?"Because it's a dead end. Investigating this further will only bring trouble to Flora. Do you want the guards coming here, asking why she has illegal gold?"

  ?"I... I can't," she stammered. "I—I promised!"

  ?"I'm sorry."

  ?"But... we didn't even look enough! We can go to the woods! We can ask the guards!" She grabbed his coat, pulling desperately.

  ?"That would be a waste of time," Zaek said coldly. "We are done here."

  ?He extended his hand to guide her away.

  ?Slap!

  ?Aelira threw his hand away.

  ?She stood there in the rain, breathing hard, looking at him with a mixture of hurt and betrayal he had never seen in her eyes before.

  ?"A waste of time..." she repeated. "Is that all she is to you?"

  ?Zaek didn't answer. He couldn't defend himself without revealing the truth.

  ?So he swallowed the bitterness and turned his back.

  ?"Let's go. We still have things to do."