If there was a cruelest punishnt in the castle that morning, it was not shouting it was guilt that left no room to breathe.
Sera and Lira sat side by side on a wooden bench in the lower corridor, their backs hunched as if the weight on their shoulders was too heavy for human bodies to bear. Their eyes were red, swollen, hollow. Since the news of Valerie’s disappearance had been quietly confird, neither of them had been allowed to return to their quarters.
They were waiting.
And every second of waiting felt like a trial that refused to begin.
"If only I had insisted on going with her," Sera whispered, her voice barely audible. Her hands trembled, her nails digging into the skin of her own palms. "If only I hadn’t let her walk off alone..."
Lira did not answer. She bowed her head lower, tears dripping onto the stone floor. In her mind, a single sentence repeated endlessly, I am her maid. I was supposed to protect her.
Noel Valerie’s personal guard stood a short distance away. He did not sit. He did not move. Since morning, he had barely shifted from that spot. His face was rigid, but his jaw trembled faintly, holding back anger that was directed entirely at himself.
As a guard, his failure was absolute.
He should have been at Valerie’s side. He should have known where she was going. He should have stopped this.
But now, all that remained was an empty space where Valerie should have been.
And guilt that strangled.
anwhile, in another room, Bianca sat facing three people Sean, a guard officer, and a scribe. The air in the room was cold, not from the temperature, but from the weight of suspicion hanging between them.
"You were the last person to see Lady Valerie," Sean said firmly, without anger, without kindness. "Tell us everything from the beginning."
Bianca nodded slowly. Her face was pale, her eyes sunken as though she had not slept at all.
"We t in the inner garden," she replied quietly. "She seed... normal. Not anxious. Not in a hurry. We spoke briefly."
"What did she say?" the officer asked.
"Nothing unusual," Bianca shook her head. "She didn’t say she wanted to leave. She didn’t say she planned to et anyone. She didn’t... she didn’t say anything."
Sean studied her closely. "You are sisters."
Bianca swallowed. "Yes."
"And she told you nothing?"
Her voice trembled. "No." She lifted her head, her eyes glassy. "If she had said anything, I swear I would rember it. But... there was nothing."
Silence fell.
That truth did not free Bianca it condemned her.
Because while she was Valerie’s sister, she was also a servant in the Duke’s castle. And in this world, status offered no protection it was a double-edged blade. She stood too close to claim ignorance, yet too low to be fully trusted.
"You understand how difficult this position is," Sean said at last, his voice heavier now. "You are not an outsider. And you are not a noble."
Bianca nodded slowly. "I understand."
Understanding did not make her chest feel any lighter.
When she was temporarily dismissed, Bianca stepped into the corridor with a gait that felt unfamiliar to her own body. Eyes followed her wherever she went servants, guards, even those who once greeted her warmly now watched her with hesitation.
The sister who knew nothing. The last person to see her alive.
Those labels clung to her, impossible to shake.
In the lower corridor, Sera saw Bianca pass and imdiately rose to her feet. "Bianca," she called, her voice breaking.
Bianca stopped. For a mont, the three of them simply looked at one another three people who loved Valerie in different ways, now bound together by the sa failure.
"This is our fault," Lira said softly. "All of it."
"No," Bianca shook her head slowly, tears finally falling. "If soone truly ant to hurt her... then nothing we did might have been enough."
No one argued.
Because deep down, they all shared the sa fear that Valerie had not disappeared because of re negligence, but because soone wanted her gone.
And more terrifying than that, If she was not found, then all of them servants, guard, sister would remain living witnesses to an unforgivable failure.
anwhile, ti continued to move.
And with every minute without Valerie, the shadow of what would follow grew longer and darker.
The corridor was silent but not the kind of silence that soothed. It was a silence heavy with threat. The torches along the stone walls flickered restlessly, as if they too were listening to a conversation that should never be recorded anywhere.
Sean stood rigid, shoulders tight, jaw clenched from holding back words he should have spoken long ago.
"We can’t hide this any longer," he said at last, his voice low, trembling under the pressure. "His Grace has the right to know. Valerie she is not just anyone."
Gordon, leaning against a stone pillar, turned sharply. His gaze was cold, sharp, and stripped of all pretense.
"Do you want us all to die here?" he asked.
There was no threat in his tone. No excess emotion. Just a naked statent that made the blood drain from Sean’s face.
Sean opened his mouth then closed it again. For a mont, he truly had no words left.
"You know what will happen," Gordon continued, taking a single step closer. His voice dropped, yet the weight of it grew heavier. "If the Duke learns Valerie is missing before we find her, he won’t wait for explanations. He won’t ask who was negligent he’ll make sure that everyone who might be involved never repeats the mistake."
Sean swallowed. His throat felt painfully dry.
He had served this castle for decades. He knew Demian’s temperant. He knew the stories never written down of orders carried out without witnesses, of people who vanished without a trace for touching sothing they were never ant to touch.
"I’m the head butler," Sean murmured, more to himself than to Gordon. "My duty is to maintain order. Safety. If I delay the report—"
"You’re saving lives," Gordon cut in sharply. "Including your own."
Silence fell.
Sean closed his eyes, breathing heavily. Faces flashed through his mind: Lira, crying until no sound remained. Sera, trembling in terror. Noel, standing like a statue, crushed by guilt. Bianca now burdened with suspicion simply because she shared the sa blood.
And Valerie.
If she was still alive...
if she was waiting for help...
Sean opened his eyes. "How long until the Duke returns?"
"Not long," Gordon replied. "That’s the problem."
Sean clenched his fists. "Then what do we do?"
Gordon’s expression hardened, his jaw locking as though the decision had long since been made.
"Before the Duke returns," he said quietly, decisively, "Valerie must be found."
Sean fell silent.
"No matter what it takes," Gordon continued. "Without exception."
The words carried a aning far deeper than what was spoken. Sean understood. They were no longer talking about official procedures, written reports, or castle etiquette.
They were talking about scouring the shadows. About bribing, threatening, or forcing answers. About doing things that must never be recorded as long as one goal was achieved.
Valerie’s return.
"If this is a kidnapping," Sean said softly, "and they demand sothing—"
"Then we find them before the demand is made," Gordon replied. "If this is a political sche, we crush it before it can fully form."
"And if..." Sean’s voice was barely audible, "if this was deliberate from within?"
Gordon did not answer imdiately. He stared into the torchlight, the flas reflected in eyes far too accustod to hard decisions.
"Then that person will pray the Duke never finds out," he said at last.
Sean exhaled slowly, then nodded. His decision was not born of courage but of survival instinct.
"I’ll make sure the servants keep quiet," he said. "No rumors leave this place. No guest hears a word. From the outside, the castle will look normal."
"Good," Gordon replied. "I’ll deploy n without insignia. No uniforms, no identities. We move like shadows."
Sean looked at him. "And if we fail?"
Gordon turned slowly. His gaze was cold almost cruel.
"If we fail," he said quietly, "then reporting to the Duke will be the least of our problems."
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