"This is why I feel responsible for that maid's lack of discipline," Divya said, her words stiff. "Perhaps, out of self-reflection, I should surrender all my household duties and not attend the clan's banquet."
Nyasia's lips curved slightly.
What's her goal here?
"I know the banquet is only a week away, but I believe it's the best decision for now. I'm sure Levon feels the same way. He's already transferred other responsibilities to Mrs. Reinel, which is for the best."
She's clearly fishing to be coaxed. Wants comfort. Wants to hear none of this was her fault, Nyasia thought.
Bad news for her. I'm not eager to please.
"Divya? What's wrong with you?"
The familiar voice came from behind Nyasia and stirred within her heart. Yet she stayed seated, frozen, finally realizing: Mrs. Nox had chosen the main sitting room for this.
To play her little drama.
For this person.
"Sia?" said by the same voice.
Only then did Nyasia lift her eyes sideways and watch her father walk toward them. So she rose quietly.
Ezekias Vans Rashet was ushered in by Basil. With them was Rashet's head accountant and secretary, Gin. For a moment, dazed, Ezekias looked at his daughter and was about to speak—but Divya's tears made him turn. She was kneeling.
"My lord, please don't mind me. I'm just here to ask Nyasia's forgiveness because of my incompetence. I'm sure you've heard the incident about that scheming maid and I—I still feel responsible—"
"Stand up, Divya," Ezekias said, then handed a few papers to Gin, who bowed quietly and left. "Why are you kneeling? You'll only confuse your niece."
"But I—I just... with what happened—"
Nyasia's brow twitched. Mrs. Nox deserved a gold medal for making a poisoning case about herself.
"Aunt, please stand up," she said firmly, with a faint, sly smile at the corner of her eyes. "That maid was at fault. You treated her well, and she repaid you by trying to poison the marquis's daughter. Truly, she perfected in poor choices. But this has taught me that loyalty is rarer than a good cinnamon tea."
Nyasia's words made Ezekias frown.
"A servant could poison a master? Sounds like something out of a book," he said, his voice held contempt, his gaze drifted. "I'll hold an elders' council before the banquet. That maid could be a pawn of the elders. They're setting up a villain. Smart move."
"Y—yes." Divya's face turned red. Elders council?
Nyasia's lips thinned. Sometimes, the obvious explanation is the truth, Father.
Ezekias looked at her.
"Come with me."
...
THE LAST time Nyasia entered the grand study was four years ago. Her father had brought her there to surprise her with new books and a set of paintbrushes for calligraphyNothing Nothing had changed.
The room still smelled of mahogany and old books. Dim light. Her mother's portrait hung on the wall.
For almost half an hour, Ezekias talked about her health, about new doctors coming in—insisted by Levon. As usual, Nyasia nodded, barely listening, already bracing for whatever bitter medicine she'd have to endure next.
"You still look pale. I was very shocked earlier," he exhaled. "I was on my way to visit you but found you in the main hall instead. This poison business troubles me so."
Nyasia breathed quietly.
He must think the elders are behind it again.
At first, she thought so too. But the vision gave her a clue: whatever sin the elders carried came after her death. Not that they caused it.
"Brother told me he's doing something about it," she said. "I want him solve it. Just lend him your powers, Father."
Ezekias' brows arched.
"I hope he's not exposing you all this ugly, scheming games within the clan. No matter what, we will protect you. Just worry your health."
Her gaze lowered for a second.
Health again.
Of course, he still trusts Mrs. Nox.
"I came back home as soon as I learned what happened to you and this nasty affair about the fire yesterday." His head titled. "I've heard you want to attend our banquet?"
"Father, I can't stay in the Paragon hall forever," she muttered. "The sun doesn't really hurt me much."
Ezekias studied his daughter's face.
She had that spitting image of that great, fiery beauty that once stormed the capital many years ago, and yet she didn't last long in the Rashet manor. And now... even this girl already lived like a ghost.
"You've always been a smart child. I've read your perfect marks. Always." A pause. "But attending this banquet means acquainting yourself with Tenusa's nobles. Staying in your hall has already harmed you. What will the outside do?"
"So be it, Father," she said, realizing he was testing her. "We'll see if I'm good enough to be your daughter."
Ezekias sighed.
"That's not it. The Rashets are an important noble clan. Wolves are everywhere, waiting to take you from me," he said, then glanced at the wall behind her. His wife's portrait still hung there. He looked at his daughter again. "When a lord suddenly presents his daughter in public, isn't he declaring she'll soon be married?"
*