Cassian walked through the near-empty corridors of the manor, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. A familiar, placid smile was fixed on his lips—a mask he wore as naturally as his skin.

  ?With Vivianne dispatched to soothe ruffled nobles and Aelira off with Zaek on some ill-defined training venture, the great house felt hollow. To Cassian, it felt like a stage stripped bare, the lead actors gone and the understudies left to wander the wings.

  ?He allowed his smile to drop for a fleeting moment.

  ?As he did, the air around him seemed to thicken with a subtle, menacing aura. A few maids scurrying past flinched almost imperceptibly, their instincts screaming at them to run even if they didn't know why. Instantly, the mask snapped back into place—the easy smile returned, accompanied by a gentle, condescending nod of greeting as they hurried by.

  ?That old man intends to keep me tethered here before sending me back to Ursus, Cassian mused. His internal thoughts were sharp and cold, a stark contrast to his serene expression.

  ?He took a slow, measured breath. Well, it changes little. Sylas is finally realizing the precariousness of his position, and reality is hitting him harder than he anticipated. It won’t be long now before he is forced to turn his blade against—

  ?His thoughts were interrupted by a figure approaching from the opposite direction—clumsy, hesitant, and radiating a frantic, nervous energy.

  ?Wilkram Viremont. Cassian’s smile widened, becoming almost genuine for a second. He smelled a fresh opportunity for amusement.

  ?“Uncle! You seem in remarkably fine spirits today,” Cassian said, his voice smooth as silk. “May I inquire as to the reason for such joy?”

  ?Wilkram started, pulling back as if he had stepped on a snake. “F-fine spirits? Do I truly look like I’m… enjoying myself?”

  ?“Precisely,” Cassian confirmed.

  ?“I-I’m not certain…” Wilkram averted his gaze, already inching away toward the wall. “In any case, it was… good seeing you. Farewell!”

  ?“Ah, but wait a moment, Uncle,” Cassian said. The tone was light, yet it stopped Wilkram in his tracks like a physical barrier. “We so rarely have the opportunity for a proper chat, don’t we? Why don’t we take a moment?”

  ?Cassian’s gaze drifted pointedly down the corridor Wilkram had been heading towards. “I’m quite certain any… lady… wouldn’t mind waiting a little longer for a gentleman such as yourself.”

  ?Wilkram paled, then seemed to gather a shred of desperate courage, puffing out his chest. “Y-you can’t frighten me! I know you wouldn’t dare create… speculation! It would cause far too much trouble if word got out. Father wouldn’t allow it! That’s right!” He nodded emphatically, as if trying to convince himself.

  ?Practiced posture, memorized words, Cassian thought, a silent laugh bubbling within him. He actually prepared for this encounter. Someone coached him.

  ?“What are you smirking at?” Wilkram demanded, his bravado wavering.

  ?“Oh, nothing. It simply surprised me, Uncle. Though they are nothing but memorized lines, aren’t they? Did she warn you about me, perhaps?”

  ?“What if she did?” Wilkram retorted, attempting defiance. “You’re merely… bitter… because you can’t get under my skin!”

  ?Cassian let out a soft sigh, dropping all pretense of warmth. The temperature in the hallway seemed to drop with his voice.

  ?“Uncle, if I truly wanted to get under your skin, I could do so effortlessly. There is simply no need to put on a performance when dealing with someone like you.”

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  ?“S-someone like me?!” Wilkram sputtered, wounded.

  ?“Yes,” Cassian affirmed coolly. “Someone whose only real standing in this family stems from a political marriage of questionable benefit. You are a footnote, Uncle. Don't mistake yourself for a chapter.”

  ?Wilkram stood speechless, his face slack with shock and humiliation. Cassian didn't wait for a rebuttal. His pleasant mask returned in a flash.

  ?“Well, Uncle, I must say our little exchange was… diverting. We can postpone our more substantial conversation for another time. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  ?He walked past, leaving Wilkram staring at the floor. A long, shuddering breath escaped the older man as his legs gave out. He slumped against the cold stone wall, sliding down until he sat on the floor.

  ?Gods, everyone and everything in this family is utterly exhausting, Wilkram thought, wiping sweat from his brow.

  ?After a moment, however, he slowly pushed himself back up, straightening his tunic. His expression shifted rapidly from fear to a shallow, greedy excitement. Whatever. Time for some fun. He hurried off in his original direction.

  ?Watching from the turn in the corridor, Cassian raised an eyebrow. Surprising. He recovered quickly. No matter.

  ?“Still… his reaction makes me wonder about the others…”

  ?Further up the manor, in the residential wing, Aisha moved through the guest rooms. The rhythmic swish-swish of her broom was the only sound disturbing the midday quiet.

  ?Her gaze was distant. Her expression was as lifeless as the dust motes dancing in the faint light. She wasn't focused on her task; she was lost in a memory that felt like a haunting.

  ?The door to her small servant’s room had burst open, startling her from her meagre rest weeks ago. Two other maids, faces flushed with envy and bitter anger, had stormed in.

  ?“What—”

  ?One lunged, clapping a hand roughly over Aisha’s mouth.

  ?“Quiet, you! We just have some questions for you.”

  ?“Questions?” Aisha had managed to muffle.

  ?“Yes! The moment Lassandra ‘miraculously disappears,’ you’re suddenly the little lady’s next nanny. Cozy, isn’t it? Convenient.”

  ?Aisha had remained silent, her eyes betraying nothing.

  ?“So, how did you manage it?” the first maid hissed, leaning closer. “Were you the one who told Lady Vivianne? Were you feeding her lies about Lassandra to take her spot? Look at the cunning little fox!”

  ?“It’s—”

  ?“‘It’s’ what? Come on now, don’t be shy. We just want to rise up like you! We all know how close Lady Vivianne keeps you now. Even that witch Isabella treats you differently! Now, share your secret!”

  ?“There is no secret,” Aisha had stated flatly.

  ?As they left, the second maid had paused at the door, glancing back with pure disdain. “Seriously… how did someone like you pull it off?”

  ?That’s wrong… Aisha thought now, the memory sharp and painful. I had… I had no choice.

  ?Lost in the echo of that moment, she startled violently when a hand gently touched her shoulder. She spun around, her broom half-raised defensively, to find Cassian standing there. He was tilting his head, his usual pleasant smile firmly in place.

  ?“Did I frighten you?”

  ?Aisha’s initial panic subsided, replaced instantly by her usual detached calm. Her motionless eyes fixed on him. “...How may I help you, sir?”

  ?He brought a hand to his chin, studying her with open, predatory curiosity. “Hmm. You truly are a peculiar one, aren’t you?”

  ?“What do you mean by that, sir?”

  ?“Well,” he elaborated, “you seem remarkably… expressionless. Almost unnervingly so. It’s like looking at a doll that’s forgotten how to blink.”

  ?“Sir, if your intention is merely to trouble me, that is acceptable. Insults are also not a problem. However, I have duties to attend to right now.”

  ?“I wasn’t insulting you,” Cassian replied smoothly. “I was merely being honest. Now, don’t be so quick to dismiss me.”

  ?Aisha met his gaze directly, her voice a flat monotone. “Are you perhaps attempting to flirt, sir?”

  ?Cassian paused, momentarily thrown off balance. The bluntness was like a physical wall. How did she arrive at that conclusion? Still, he recovered quickly, his eyes glittering with amusement. “Oops. You’ve found me out.”

  ?“I apologize, sir. But it will not work on me.”

  ?“Is that because she warned you against me?” Cassian probed, referring to Vivianne.

  ?“No, sir,” Aisha replied, her tone matter-of-fact. “It is because I am well aware that I am too plain, too ugly, to inspire genuine interest in anyone—let alone someone of your station. Now, if you please, the floor needs finishing.”

  ?This one… Cassian thought, a flicker of genuine frustration crossing his mind. I wanted to see if Vivianne had given her specific instructions regarding me, but… I seem to have been thoroughly rejected instead. He couldn’t help but be intrigued by her brutal self-assessment.

  ?“‘Too ugly to inspire interest,’ hmm?” he murmured thoughtfully as she turned back to her sweeping, effectively dismissing him.

  ?He watched her for a moment longer before walking away. Malice and curiosity were tied in his mind. Vivianne, you certainly pick the most interesting tools.