The morning light filtered through the tall windows of the White family manor, casting golden rays across the velvet drapes and polished marble floor. Eira sat alone at the long dining table, a cup of black tea untouched beside her as the family’s snowy owl dropped the Daily Prophet into her waiting hands.
She unrolled the newspaper, expecting the usual murmurs about her business policies or social appearances. But what t her eyes stopped her breath for a mont.
SHOCKING REVELATION: CECIL WHITE NOT A TRUE HEIR OF THE WHITE FAMILY
Her eyes darted down to the subheading:
"After a discreet investigation into the bloodline of the disgraced forr heir, Cecil White, we can now confirm that he is not, in fact, of White descent. Sources confirm he is the child of an affair—a truth long hidden within one of the most powerful wizarding families in Europe."
Eira’s expression didn’t change. But she sat straighter, scanning the article with sharp precision.
"The matriarch of the White family, Eira White, did not make an official public statent. However, according to a confidential source from within the Ministry—specifically, the Office of Minister Fudge —her assistant confird the authenticity of these claims in a private conversation with the Minister. The statent read: ’All of the information that has been disclosed is supported by evidence and family record. The White family considers the matter resolved internally.’"
"Though Cecil White had been formally disowned years ago , he continued to benefit from certain privileges tied to his forr status—including limited access to family vaults and properties. These have now been revoked in full. We have received confirmation from Gringotts Wizarding Bank that, as of yesterday, all vaults accessed by Cecil White have been closed to him by official order of the matriarch, Eira White. The contents of Vault 73, forrly linked to his estate, have been returned to the central vault of the White family, reinforcing her control over all assets."
Eira exhaled slowly. The words were clean and professional, but she could sense the scandal brewing between each line.
"The Daily Prophet made several attempts to contact Mr. Cecil White for a response. However, we were unable to locate him. Our letters were unanswered, and trusted sources report that he has not been seen in public since the revelation. His close friend , Josh Alain, has also not made any statents. Speculation is rife."
She set the cup to her lips but didn’t drink.
"The magical community’s reaction has been one of utter disbelief. For years, Cecil White was considered a potential successor to the ancient House of White. Many now say they were never told why he was passed over for the role of heir, despite being male and older than the current matriarch. Today, we finally know why. The legitimacy of his claim was never real."
"With this revelation, it seems that Eira White stands as the sole rightful bearer of the White family na and legacy. A family that has endured wars, betrayals, and centuries of magical politics continues—under her na alone."
Eira gently moved the newspaper, her pale fingers resting on its cover as silence settled around her.
She thought of the years of whispers, the judging eyes, the subtle doubts cast by him who believed bloodline ant power—and that she didn’t belong. Now, the truth was out. She hadn’t spoken a word of it herself. But the world knew. Not through loud proclamations and certainly not through revenge—but through fact.
And Cecil... wherever he was now, she hoped he read every word. Let him feel it—finally—what it ant to be shut out of the world he once tried to control.
A knock ca at the door.
"Co in," Eira said, her voice cool and composed.
Emma stepped in, a knowing look on her face. "I take it you’ve read the article?"
Eira nodded once. "Yes. It’s done."
as she folded the newspaper and set it aside
"Well," she murmured dryly, brushing a strand of her short white hair behind her ear, "quite the newspaper we have today."
Emma, seated across from her, nodded solemnly. "Yes, ma’am. The Daily Prophet has never been more... direct."
"And Fudge ?" Eira asked after a pause, her tone shifting. "Did he say anything?"
Emma hesitated, then replied, "He was shocked when he first heard. At first, he didn’t believe it. He thought it was a sar, until we presented the docunts. After that—he accepted the truth. He’s... surprisingly supportive, actually. He said he always wanted transparency. But—" She hesitated again, visibly uncomfortable. "He did ask who Cecil’s father is."
Eira’s expression darkened slightly, though not with anger—rather, with sothing heavier. Regret. She shook her head.
"I can’t answer that," she said quietly. "I don’t know who his father is. I tried to find out. I searched through every record, every birth docunt , even questioned the old paintings . Nothing. I planned to ask my grandfather... but he passed before I could."
The silence lingered between them for a few beats before Emma spoke again.
"Would you like to begin a formal investigation?" she offered carefully. "We can dig deeper. Discreetly."
Eira gave a single nod. "Yes. And not just that—I want you to investigate my mother’s family too. Everything. Who they were, where they are, what allegiances they might hold. I need to know if they’re potential allies—or threats."
"You’re worried about surprise claims?" Emma asked softly.
"I don’t want to be caught by surprise claims ," Eira replied, her voice low but resolute. "I don’t have the ti to play these childish tricks with anyone . If soone cos forward claiming to be kin, or seeking to challenge my legitimacy —they won’t catch off guard. I don’t want another na rising from the nowhere , demanding a seat at the table claiming to be my uncle or aunt ."
Emma leaned forward slightly, her expression earnest. "Understood, ma’am. I’ll begin imdiately. Every detail I uncover, you’ll be the first to know."
Eira offered a small nod of gratitude, then leaned back in her chair, staring out the window again.
"There were rumors," Eira said softly. "That she abandoned her family. Left them behind for reasons no one would explain. I tried looking through the White family archives... but there’s nothing. It’s as if soone deliberately erased her origins."
"Do you believe Mada Maxi might know sothing?" Emma asked.
"I think so," Eira said. "She’s one of the few who knew my mother in her youth. And if she doesn’t know directly—she might know where to look. But I suspect it was my grandfather made sure the truth stayed hidden."
"It’s highly unusual for my grandfather to keep sothing like this from . Find them, Emma—whoever they are. I want every na, every deed. I want to know where they are... and whether they’re a threat to ."
Emma stood with a quiet nod, smoothing her coat. "As you wish, Lady White."
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