Sun hung high in the sky.
Wind blew gently, swaying the tree branches, carrying soft scent of the flowers.
And...
"Two days!"
Two fucking days of searching, investigating, carefully watching for any opportunity to find more evidence.
And what did I find?
Nothing.
Fucking Noting.
"Argh!"
I sat on my bed, staring at the folded pages of journal copies hidden under my mattress.
One piece of evidence.
I needed two more.
[Quest Progress: Expose the Poisoner]
[Evidence Gathered: 1/3]
The quest tracker mocked me with its lack of progress.
Yesterday, I'd tried to find the alchemist letter I'd seen in Vivienne's drawer.
But when I'd snuck back through the servant passage, the letter was gone. Either she'd moved it or destroyed it.
This morning, I tried a different approach, searching the manor's storage rooms for any evidence she might have stashed away. But, there was nothing useful.
I ran my hands through my hair, frustration building in my chest.
The problem was that Vivienne was good at this. She was methodical, careful, paranoid about leaving traces.
One journal with written confessions was a miracle. Finding more physical evidence was proving nearly impossible.
Which meant I needed witness.
But who?
I'd watched the servants carefully over the past two days. Most avoided me entirely, the family embarrassment, the weak disappointment. Those who did interact with me showed either indifference or barely concealed contempt.
None of them would testify for me.
Why would they? I was nothing to them. Just another noble brat who'd probably get them punished if they spoke out.
I flopped backward on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Two days of failure. And every day that passed was another day Vivienne might discover what I was planning. Another day the risk of exposure increased.
I was running out of time and options.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
I pushed myself up, annoyed at the interruption. "What?"
The door opened, and a middle-aged servant poked her head in.
"Young master, the family is gathering in the entrance hall. You're expected to attend."
I frowned. "Why?"
"Young Lady Cassandra has returned from the academy. Lord Aldric requests the family's presence to welcome her home."
Cassandra.
Another family member who probably despised me.
Great.
"I'll be down in a minute," I muttered.
The servant nodded and withdrew, closing the door.
I stood slowly, checking my appearance in the small mirror.
Still too pale, still too thin, but marginally better than a week ago.
The poison resistance and regular meals, even poisoned ones were helping me recover.
I pulled on a clean tunic and made my way downstairs.
The entrance hall was already occupied when I arrived.
Father stood near the main doors, dressed in his formal attire, dark doublet with the Raith family crest embroidered in silver thread.
Victor was beside him, looking bored, and Cedric bounced on his heels with barely contained excitement.
Vivienne stood slightly apart, in a deep blue dress. When she noticed me descending the stairs, her expression shifted into that practiced maternal warmth.
"Jin, dear! Come stand with the family."
Like I had a choice.
I made my way down slowly. Vivienne moved to my side immediately, her hand resting on my shoulder, thumb pressed against my spine, just hard enough to send a warning.
Behave.
I kept my expression neutral and stood where she positioned me.
"She's here," Cedric announced, practically vibrating with excitement as carriage wheels crunched on gravel outside.
The main doors opened, and servants moved forward to assist with luggage.
Cassandra Raith stepped through the doorway, and my first thought was...
Beautiful.
She was tall. Silver hair pulled back in an intricate braid, and she wore traveling clothes that somehow still looked formal. A fitted jacket in deep burgundy over a white shirt, practical riding pants, leather boots polished to a shine.
Everything about her screamed competence and authority.
She surveyed the assembled family with cool assessment, her gaze passing over each of us in turn.
When her grey eyes landed on me, they didn't soften. Didn't show recognition or warmth or even contempt.
Just... nothing.
Like I was furniture. A part of the background.
Then her attention moved on.
"Father." She inclined her head respectfully. "It's good to be home."
"Cassandra." Father's stern expression cracked slightly into something that might have been pride. "Your letters mentioned excellent marks this term."
"Top of my combat class," she confirmed. "And second in theory. I would have been first, but Professor Aldwin has a bias."
Victor straightened slightly at that, clearly interested. "Second? Not bad. I ranked third in my year."
Cassandra's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Yes, I remember. You sent several letters complaining about it."
Vivienne stepped forward, her maternal warmth extending to her stepdaughter.
"Cassandra, dear, you must be exhausted from the journey. I've had your chambers prepared, and cook is making your favorite—"
"That's unnecessary," Cassandra interrupted smoothly. "I ate during travel. I'll review the estate ledgers with Father this evening and retire early."
Vivienne's smile didn't falter, but I caught the slight tightening around her eyes. "Of course, dear. Whatever you prefer."
Cedric, unable to contain himself any longer, practically threw himself at his older sister. "Cassandra! I got top marks in mathematics! And Father said I might be able to attend the academy next year if—"
"That's nice, Cedric." Cassandra spoke politely and gently extracted herself from his grip. "We can discuss your academic progress later. Okay. I'm tired need to rest."
She turned back to Father. "The journey was longer than expected. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to change before dinner."
"Of course." Father gestured to a waiting servant. "Have her things brought to her chambers immediately."
Cassandra moved toward the stairs.
As she her eyes flicked toward me again.
That same flat, assessing look.
Not hostile. Not kind.
Just... indifferent.
Like I wasn't worth the energy to form an opinion about.
Then she was past, climbing the stairs without a backward glance.