Chapter 40: interrogation of Elena
They found Elena in the deepest, quietest section of the West Library.
She sat alone at a corner table, her head bowed over a textbook. It was clear she wasn’t reading. She was just staring blankly at the ink, her hands trembling so badly the pages rustled beneath her fingertips.
Seraphina stopped a few paces away, her posture rigid.
"Elena Marsh."
The girl flinched like she’d been struck. She looked up, and the mont her eyes registered the crimson-haired swordswoman standing over her, all the blood drained from her face.
"I didn’t—" Her voice cracked, whisper-thin. "Please—"
"We’re not here to hurt you," Lucian said quietly, stepping forward to keep his voice level. "We just want to talk."
"The blackmailer boy," Seraphina cut in, her voice hard. "The one who gave you the instructions. We saw him. Yesterday. In the courtyard."
Elena went perfectly still.
"You... you saw—"
"Everything." Seraphina took a step forward. "You can’t deny it. And don’t bother protecting him."
Elena pressed herself back against the chair, trying to disappear into it.
"Elena." Lucian moved closer, his voice firm but not unkind. "We’re going to stop him. But we need to know who he is. His na. His family. Anything that can help us identify him."
"He’ll know! "I can’t! My brother—they’ll hurt my brother — I don’t know his na!" she whispered desperately. "I swear, I don’t—he never told —"
"Elena." Lucian’s voice softened. "We know they forced your hand. You didn’t want to do this. But we need your help to stop whoever is behind it."
"Please I-I can’t!" The words ca out as a strangled sob.
"You don’t get it—he’ll know! If I say anything, he’ll find out—so, please, just leave
alone!"
Her breathing was coming faster now, shallow and panicked. She couldn’t even bring herself to look Lucian in the eyes, her gaze darting frantically around the room.
Lucian glanced at Seraphina.
Seraphina stood perfectly still. Her jaw was locked so tight a muscle feathered in her cheek, her hands balled into white-knuckled fists. She was radiating pure, unrestrained murder at the girl, not for her. But a terrified first-year couldn’t tell the difference. Right now, Seraphina just looked like a drawn blade waiting to drop.
Lucian caught Seraphina’s eye. He gave her a hard, flat stare, tilting his head slightly toward the front of the library.
Back off. You’re scaring her.
Seraphina glared back. For a second, he thought she was going to argue. But then she let out a sharp, frustrated breath through her nose.
Fine. Do whatever.
She turned on her heel and marched toward the front desk, grabbing a massive, ridiculously heavy encyclopedia off a nearby shelf and dropping into a chair with a loud thud. She opened the book, though she was clearly glaring a hole straight through the pages.
Lucian turned back to the trembling girl. He softened his expression, trying to muster up so kind of reassuring, protagonist-level charm.
Which is hilarious, considering my charm consists of trauma, deadpan remarks, and strategic emotional manipulation.
*But let’s try anyway.*
He offered her a small, gentle smile now that the terrifying swordswoman had backed off across the room.
"Elena, We’re not asking you to fight him. We’re just asking for information. Anything. Did he ever ntion who sent him? Who’s paying him?"
Elena swallowed hard, stealing a fearful glance toward where Seraphina sat before looking back at Lucian.
"I-I don’t know his na!" she whispered desperately. "I never—he never told —just gave
the instructions in a letter..."
"Okay. That’s okay," Lucian coaxed smoothly. The letter—do you rember the handwriting? Any signature? Anything that might identify who wrote it?"
She shook her head miserably, tears welling up.
"I CAN’T—"
A chair scraped loudly across the floor.
Seraphina was on her feet. Patience gone. Done waiting.
"Elena." Seraphina’s voice cut through. Sharp. "Soone used you to destroy an innocent person’s reputation. To completely ruin his life. And you helped them do it."
"I-I didn’t have a choice!" Elena cried, tears finally spilling over her cheeks.
"There is always a choice." Seraphina took a slow step forward, her golden eyes blazing with absolute certainty. "And right now, you have another one. You help us stop them, or you let them keep doing this to other people. Your brother isn’t the only one they’ll hurt."
Elena stared up at the crimson-haired swordswoman. Her chest heaved, tears tracking rapidly down her pale face.
For a long, agonizing mont, the only sound was her ragged breathing.
Then—
"He... he didn’t tell
who sent him," she stamred, shrinking back into her seat. "He just gave
the letter with the instructions. Told
to morize every word exactly. And then he left."
Lucian and Seraphina exchanged a quick, loaded look.
A noble handler acting as a middleman. Soone with enough money to casually clear massive debts, and enough connections to stay completely anonymous.
"The letter," Lucian pressed, a flicker of hope rising in his chest. "Do you still have it?"
She shook her head frantically. "He took it back. He waited until I morized every single word, and then he took it with him."
"And the money?" Seraphina asked, her voice tight.
"I—I already sent it to my brother. To pay off the collectors. It’s... it’s already gone."
Lucian let out a slow, controlled breath, staring at the polished wooden table.
Dead end.
The letter was gone, the money untraceable. And the blackmailer boy from the courtyard? Still missing. They’d left him behind during the chaos, prioritizing Lucian’s injuries over securing their only concrete lead.
*Stupid.* careless.
All they had now was Elena’s vague description of the handler—dark hair, expensive clothes, noble bearing. A profile that fit half the upperclassn at Astraviel.
Amateurs fra people to embarrass them. Professionals fra people to erase them. Myra’s chilling words from this morning echoed in his skull. Whoever orchestrated this wasn’t playing gas. They were thorough. Calculated. Every loose end tied off perfectly.
Frustration coiled tight in Lucian’s chest, hot and suffocating. They had the witness. They had the motive. But they had absolutely nothing they could actually take to Professor Kael or the administration. It would just be his word against the shadows.
They were so close.
But not close enough.
Though Lucian gave One last push.
He leaned in slightly. "The boy—you said you don’t know his na. But have you ever seen him around campus? With anyone?"
Elena’s breath caught. She hesitated. Her eyes darted around the empty library before she gave a slow, jerky nod.
Lucian leaned forward a little more. "Where? With who?"
"Y-yes, I’ve..." she whispered while wiping at her eyes with trembling hands.
I’ve seen him around. He—he hangs out with Marcus Thornwell’s group sotis."
Marcus.
*Of course it’s fucking Marcus.*
Everything clicked into place. The arrogant noble who had it out for him since day one. It fit perfectly.
"Are you sure?" Lucian asked again, his voice tightening.
"I think so. I an, I’m not completely sure, but... yes. I saw them together. Just a few days before all this started."
Seraphina turned slowly to look at Lucian.
The temperature in the imdiate area seed to drop ten degrees. Her golden eyes weren’t just angry anymore; they were dead, cold, and utterly dangerous.
"Marcus," she breathed, the na sounding less like a realization and more like a death sentence.
"We don’t know for certain yet—" Lucian started, but he could see Seraphina’s hand already drifting toward her sword hilt.
Shit. She’s going to kill him.
"It’s him." Her voice was flat. Absolute. Final. "I know it’s him."
She didn’t leave room for argunt. She turned back to the trembling girl at the table.
"Stay in your dorm tonight. Lock the door. Don’t talk to anyone about this conversation."
Elena nodded frantically.
"Thank you," Lucian said quietly.
Then, side by side, they walked out of the shadows of the library.
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