Osric's gaze shifted toward Lysander. "This key and this pass…" He plucked them neatly from the young man's hand, holding them high for the court to see. "Do they not bear the mark of Magnolia House? Look closely…there! The magnolia tree wrought in gold. Isabella, what madness moved you to let loose killers upon the Arvands?"
The Dowager's composure cracked. She lurched to her feet, her face draining of color. Her lips parted, but nothing came. Her eyes blinked too quickly, like a child caught red-handed in mischief far beyond excuse. She was never blamed so openly for what she did. She expected nothing less from her uncle, but still…
Osric's voice cut through her silence. "Then let us test it. We shall see which door this key unlocks, if it unlocks your house. A charge lies at your feet, Isabella. Prove your innocence. How did the murderers hold your house key? Who placed it in their hands? Have you no curiosity to learn, or does guilt still your tongue?"
