The night deepened as Elara stood by the window of her chamber, the moon casting a silver glow over the Valmont estate. The scrap of paper with its chilling threat—"The bride will fall"—burned in her mind, its words a shadow she couldn't shake. The clock struck 8:30 PM, and a soft knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts. Cassian entered, his expression unreadable, a lantern in hand.
"We need to talk," he said, his voice steady but urgent. "The west archives—someone's been digging into my family's past. It's not safe for you to be alone."
Elara nodded, her resolve hardening. "Then let's find out who. I'm not hiding while someone plots against me."
He studied her, a flicker of admiration in his eyes, before leading her down the shadowed corridors. The west archives were a labyrinth of dusty shelves and locked cabinets, the air heavy with the scent of aged parchment. Cassian set the lantern on a table, its light revealing scattered papers—ledgers, letters, and a faded map of the estate.
Gideon joined them, his usual levity replaced by a focused intensity. "I've been through half of this," he said, holding up a letter. "It's correspondence between my uncle—Cassian's father—and someone outside the family. Dates back ten years, around the time of your mother's death, Cassian."
Cassian took the letter, his fingers tightening around it. "What does it say?"
Gideon's voice lowered. "It hints at a deal. Something about silencing a witness. The signature's smudged, but the seal's Valmont."
Elara's breath hitched. "A witness to what? Your mother's death?"
Cassian's jaw clenched, but he nodded. "She knew too much—about the family's dealings, the wealth built on secrets. Someone wanted her gone." He paused, his gaze distant. "I always thought it was an outsider. But if it's family…"
The room fell silent, the weight of the revelation pressing down. Elara stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "We need to find that witness, Cassian. Or at least their name."
Gideon rifled through more papers, pulling out a small notebook. "Here's something. A list of names, all crossed out except one—Lila." He looked up, his eyes meeting Elara's. "Your housekeeper."
Elara's heart sank. Lila, with her kind eyes and quiet demeanor, a traitor? Before she could process it, a crash echoed from the hall, followed by hurried footsteps. Cassian grabbed the lantern, motioning for silence. They crept to the door, peering out as a figure darted into the shadows.
"Stay here," Cassian whispered, but Elara shook her head.
"I'm not letting this end without answers."
Together, they pursued the figure, their footsteps muffled by the thick rugs. The chase led to the east wing, where the mirror loomed once more. The figure stumbled, revealing Lila, her face pale and her hands trembling as she clutched a bundle of papers.
"Lila?" Elara's voice broke the stillness. "Why?"
Lila's eyes darted between them, fear etched into her features. "I didn't want to! They threatened my sister—said they'd kill her if I didn't take these. I was just trying to protect her!"
Cassian stepped forward, his tone icy. "Who threatened you?"
Lila hesitated, then whispered, "Gideon's father. He's been pulling strings from the shadows, covering up the old man's tracks."
Gideon's face darkened, a storm brewing in his eyes. "My father? He's been dead for years—"
"No," Lila interrupted. "He faked it. He's alive, and he's here, in the estate."
The revelation hung heavy, the air thick with betrayal. Elara's gaze met Cassian's, a silent agreement passing between them. The truth was closer than they'd thought, but so was the danger. As the clock neared 9:00 PM, the manor's secrets began to unravel, and Elara knew the fight for her place—and her life—had only just begun.