They soon received their pastries, but as Tristan indulged in his, he began to ponder the threats of those Amelia had singled out as ones to watch. Benjamin made sense; his movements and abilities were honed over years, and that was evident. Though still young, he seemed to have devoted countless hours to perfecting his craft. The same could be said for Yaron, though his selection appeared to be due more to his potential and how he could grow before and during the exam.
Bella Grand was clearly chosen because of her intellect, though Tristan doubted her tactical mind was truly formidable. Finally, there was Adelia White. They knew absolutely nothing about her, so why was she deemed a threat? What made Amelia fear her? This thought lingered in Tristan's mind until he finally posed the question to Amelia.
"Why did you single out Adelia White as a threat? I thought you knew nothing about her."
Chewing on her pastry, Amelia delicately covered her mouth as a refined lady would.
"Well, it's quite simple—it's because of the hierarchy of strength amongst the Five Great Families. Of course, the Vermillion family is the strongest, but after them come the White's, then the Garnet's, the Violet's, and finally, my family." She said, still munching on her donut.
"I thought the Green family was the second strongest amongst the five?"
Amelia shook her head.
"My family is not truly that powerful. I can probably count on one hand how many formidable combatants we possess, whereas the other families have several warriors of great strength."
She finished her donut, then brushed the crumbs from her face with the napkin placed on the table.
"Anyway, Adelia possesses immense potential to become a threat, so I would prefer to keep an eye on her, if possible."
Tristan and Garfield understood Amelia's reasoning. Her planning had been impeccable, and her views on the other teams equally precise. She considered every possibility and devised countermeasures for each. As they continued their discussion, she elaborated on the strategies for confronting each individual team.
As their conversation unfolded, a sudden arrival caught Tristan's attention, drawing his gaze away from Amelia's words to the figure that had just stepped into the Café. Rising from his seat, he walked toward the individual, Amelia and Garfield's eyes following him as he approached the girl. She moved with languid grace, her presence soft yet strangely magnetic, and her half-lidded eyes carried the weight of a mystery unspoken.
Realizing who it was, Garfield smiled as his brother took the initiative to greet the enigmatic girl draped in her almost lazy aura.
"Who is she?" Amelia asked, her brows furrowing, jealousy flickering in her expression like a shadow she could not suppress.
"Her? She's just a friend..."
Amelia's expression softened, if only for a heartbeat.
"Or so my brother says," Garfield added slyly, his smirk widening.
Amelia's face immediately hardened once again as she turned her gaze upon Garfield.
"Are you implying... she is more than a friend?"
Garfield shrugged.
"Who knows? But one thing I can say—he certainly seems to initiate conversations with her." Garfield said, his grin stretching wider, delighting in Amelia's unease.
Amelia turned her eyes away, her attention falling back upon her untouched pastries. Yet her hand trembled ever so slightly as she raised her cup. She was unamused, unwilling to admit aloud what Garfield already knew—that in Tristan's case, this was no trivial gesture. Tristan rarely initiated conversations, let alone with strangers. That alone made the girl dangerous.
"She doesn't seem all that special," Amelia muttered softly, though her words lacked conviction, as she sipped her tea.
"What are you doing here?" Tristan asked the girl.
Looking down at her hands, he quickly noticed the vase filled with flowers she carried.
"I came to deliver flowers. I've been bringing flowers here for over a year now," she said, her lips curling into a languid, mysterious smile as she glanced at the Café's sign.
"What are you doing here, Tristan?"
Tristan looked at her, then turned toward Amelia and Garfield seated at their table. When he looked back, he caught the disapproving glare Amelia had aimed at both him and Clara.
"I'm just here planning for the Selection Game."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?" she asked, her lazy tone veiling a subtle sharpness, as though testing her place in his world.
Tristan shook his head.
"No, you're not really interrupting. We were already finished—we were simply talking. I have a suggestion—why don't you come sit and eat with us?"
Her gaze flicked toward Amelia, acknowledging the sharpened hostility in the young lady's eyes.
"I don't think that's a good idea. Lady Amelia doesn't seem too inviting," she said, her smile laced with effortless provocation.
Tristan looked at Amelia, then back at Clara, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
"Don't worry. She's actually a kind person—in fact, she's far kinder than me."
Clara's smile deepened, a lazy curve that carried an almost haunting allure.
"I'm sure she is... but perhaps another time," she replied, her voice flowing like velvet as her eyes lingered on his longer than necessary.
"Okay then."
Tristan returned to his seat, only to be met with Amelia's scrutinizing glare. The three remained silent for the rest of their stay. Amelia was the first to leave, her carriage whisking her home, while Tristan and Garfield walked back to the academy.
A week passed uneventfully. Tristan tried to monitor Eric but found nothing, while Garfield dedicated himself to researching the bloodline Tristan had mentioned. After much difficulty, he uncovered scarce information, which he later shared during their usual meeting in Tristan's room.
He found three names tied to the bloodline. One was Wilson, another Gartien, and the final name was...
"Wenkay. That was the last name I discovered," Garfield said.
Tristan's expression darkened. Out of those three, he recognized only two. He had already dismissed Jason as a suspect, but he had not considered the possibility of another relative being involved in Mary Merigold's murder. And the final name—a name he had not expected until now.
Bertal Wenkay.
If he were still alive, he would be a prime suspect, but Tristan found it improbable, given that Bertal had left the academy long ago and hasn't been seen since.
Still, Garfield was baffled, and pressed Tristan for his reasoning in pursuing this mysterious bloodline that seemed to command the Fallen Star beasts.
"How did you come to the conclusion that Bertal Wenkay was connected to this bloodline?" Garfield asked.
Tristan, his face grim, replied.
"It was a hunch."
It had become Tristan's favored answer of late, whenever he wished to conceal the truth.
With the knowledge he now possessed, he reached a conclusion regarding the location of Bertal Wenkay's secret laboratory. Yet it seemed almost impossible that the current resident would fail to notice an entire laboratory hidden within.
"I think I know where the lab might be."
Garfield looked at Tristan, confusion etched upon his face.
"Where?"
"The place where a certain beast Tamer resides." Tristan replied.