The silence after the storm was heavy, almost sacred. Eira stood at the tall window of her office , her hands clasped tightly behind her back, her cropped White hair barely brushing the nape of her neck. The air still felt thick with everything Shani had revealed—the truth of her grandmother's affair, her mother's origins, and now, Cecil's true parentage.
Emma stood a few steps behind her, quiet and waiting for her next move .
Eira turned slowly, her expression carved in stone. "We'll release the information," she said finally. "About Cecil. About Adrian Voclain. All of it."
Emma blinked, once, then nodded slowly. "Understood, my lady."
"But not through us," Eira added sharply. "This mustn't trace back to the White family. Not publicly, at least. As far as the world knows, this is a leak from an anonymous, well-informed source. A whistleblower who knew of the past, I don't want to make our family's relationship sour with France and specially with Isabella Voclain because of this scandal ."
Emma's eyes gleamed. "So… you want it to look like a journalistic discovery?"
"Exactly," Eira replied. "You know how to do this. You're clever enough to get it into the hands of someone at the Daily Prophet. Preferably a junior reporter with something to prove. They'll run with it."
Emma bowed her head respectfully. "I'll take care of it, my lady."
Eira gave one last look out the window, her voice low and resolute. "Let the world know who Cecil really is and I want to see the reactions of the Voclain family as well ."
⸻
The Next Morning
The following morning broke grey and heavy, the sky cloaked with low clouds. Rain threatened but never quite fell. Eira sat at the long breakfast table in the east wing of the White Manor, her silver cutlery untouched beside a plate of perfectly arranged toast and eggs.
Lolly brought in the morning post with a quiet pop, placing the still-warm copy of The Daily Prophet on the table before her.
Eira unfolded it with care.
And there it was—front page, bold headline.
⸻
CECIL WHITE'S TRUE PARENTAGE REVEALED
Anonymous Source Connects Heir to Scandalous Past Affair
By Eliane Gerber, Special Correspondent
London , England — In a shocking turn of events, a new revelation has emerged regarding the lineage of Cecil White, the disowned Heir of the powerful and ancient White family of Britain .
For days, the legitimacy of Cecil White's birth has been the subject of hushed murmurs and increasingly public speculation. These whispers grew louder following the funeral of the late Lord Elijah White, where many noted the conspicuous absence of the man long presumed to be his son. Now, those murmurs have taken shape—becoming something far more tangible.
According to documents and firsthand recollections provided to The Daily Prophet by an anonymous but well-informed source, Cecil White is not, in fact, the son of Elijah White, as previously believed.
Instead, it is claimed that his biological father was none other than Adrian Voclain, a prominent wizard of the French magical aristocracy and, notably, the husband of current Potions Master at Beauxbâtons Academy, Madam René Voclain.
If these claims are true, it means that Cecil White is not a legitimate White by bloodline, but rather the product of a long-running affair between Olivia White (née Derroisne) and Adrian Voclain. Both were married to other individuals at the time of their alleged relationship. The implications of this revelation are profound—not only for the integrity of the White family's succession, but for diplomatic relations within the European magical elite.
Even more striking is the possible familial link to one of France's most influential magical figures: Isabella Voclain, the current French Minister of Magic.
Isabella Voclain, the eldest daughter of Adrian and René Voclain, would be Cecil White's half-sister—a fact that has already begun to stir murmurs in the halls of the French Ministry. No official comment has yet been issued by Minister Voclain or her office, though a press conference is expected later this week.
The Voclain family has long held prominence in French wizarding circles, but this new connection—if verified—could complicate political allegiances and family legacies alike. Especially as records from the early 1960s appear to have been tampered with, removing any trace of Olivia White's affair or Adrian Voclain's potential paternity.
As of this publication, no legal motion has been taken by the Ministry to challenge the White family's internal decision. However, it must be noted that Cecil White was already disowned by the family prior to this revelation, following a private magical arbitration led by the family's inner circle.
The title of matriarch and legitimate heir has since been passed to Eira White, the granddaughter of the late Elijah White and the only known descendant carrying both the bloodline and the magical signature of the White family's ancestral rites.
"This development only reinforces what has already been decided within the House of White," said Geneviève Thélène, a scholar of wizarding inheritance law at Sorbonne Magique. "It's not about who was raised in the manor—it's about who carries the blood and the legacy. And in this case, Cecil White carries neither."
—
Ongoing Investigation:
• Magical genealogy archives in Paris and Dijon are reportedly being reviewed.
• Officials are attempting to verify the authenticity of the leaked records.
• Minister Voclain remains silent on the matter.
—
More on Page 3:
"A Family Tree Tainted: The Hidden Affairs of the White Dynasty"
"From Mistress to Minister? What This Could Mean for France's Government"
"The Case for Eira White: A Silent Matriarch Waiting?"
⸻
Eira slowly folded the newspaper, her gloved fingers steady.
Just then, the door creaked open.
Emma stepped inside, her silhouette outlined by the light from the hallway. Eira looked up, arching an eyebrow.
"Well," she said, tapping her fingers against the armrest, "it's good that the news is finally public. Now that the truth is out, people will begin to question the narrative. We're no longer the villains in this story—not after we reclaimed Cecil's assets and vaults under the family name. This leak shifts the attention. The Voclain family, and others tied to him… they'll be the ones answering questions now."
She gestured toward the seat across from her. "So? What brings you here this early, Emma?"
Emma stepped forward, a folded letter in her gloved hand.
"We received a letter, my lady."
Eira straightened, her gaze sharpening. "A letter? From whom?"
Emma hesitated a moment before replying. "It's from Cecil."
That made Eira blink. She reached for the letter, her expression unreadable. "Oh? And what does he want now? Is this some pathetic attempt at peace?"
She unfolded the parchment, eyes scanning the neat, deliberate handwriting. As she read, her lips slowly curled into a smirk, and then a soft, amused laugh escaped her.
"Well, well. He's invited me to a one-on-one meeting," she said aloud. "What do you think, Emma? Why now? What's his angle?"
"I don't know, my lady," Emma said carefully. "Perhaps it's a trap."
Eira shook her head. "I doubt it. He's many things, but he isn't foolish enough to try and harm me directly. If anything happens to me, everyone will know who's responsible. He doesn't want to end up hunted like a criminal by the Ministry." Her eyes narrowed. "No, this is something else. A negotiation, perhaps. Or a desperate plea. Either way, I want to see him."
Emma nodded. "If that is your wish, I will accompany you."
"Of course you will," Eira said, rising from her seat. "And I'm certain he won't come alone either. He'll bring someone—if not his lapdog allies, then certainly his little lover."
She turned toward the tall mirror near the bookshelf, smoothing her robes with a quiet sense of finality. "Let's prepare. It's been too long since I've spoken to my dear uncle face-to-face. There's… much to discuss."
Emma hesitated again. "There is one more matter, my lady."
Eira looked back. "Yes?"
Emma's expression dimmed. "The elf—Shani. She's dead."
Eira's brows furrowed. "Dead? What happened?"
"When we locked her in the dungeon, the truth serum's effects wore off overnight. She realized she had betrayed Adrien and Lady Olivia … and it broke her. She began screaming, calling herself a bad elf. She… she struck her head against the dungeon wall repeatedly until her skull cracked."
Eira was silent. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier.
"She kept repeating, 'Shani is a bad elf… Shani betrayed Madam… Shani betrayed Master Adrien,' until she—" Emma's voice trailed off.
For a few seconds, there was nothing but the ticking of the enchanted clock on the mantel.
Then Eira said, quietly, "Very well. Have her buried properly—somewhere quiet. And clean the dungeon. I want no trace of this left behind."
Emma bowed. "Yes, my lady."
Eira turned back toward the window, her white hair catching the soft morning light. "So much for loyalty," she murmured. "Even the broken ones find a way to destroy themselves."
A quiet pause lingered between them before she spoke again, her voice crisp and composed.
"Now let's not waste time. I have a meeting to attend and an uncle to torment ."