Servants' Wing — Afternoon
The courtyard smelled of soap and soot, but unease hung thicker than steam. The estate's servants stood in tense rows—hands folded, eyes flickering downward, as if stone could protect them.
At the front stood Head Maid Liora. Tall. Straight-backed. Blade-sharp.
> "Her Grace has ordered a private inquiry," she announced, her voice slicing through the hush like a drawn knife.
"This is not gossip. This is about loyalty."
A ripple passed through the line—jaw clenches, shuffled feet. Secrets shifting under uniforms and skin.
> "If any of you have worked for the Vale family, the Crowne Guard, the Irelith merchants, or the Halen musicians," Liora continued, her eyes sweeping across them,
"step forward quietly. There is no shame—only truth."
She held up a small velvet pouch. Gold shimmered within.
> "Discretion will be rewarded. Silence will not."
---
Sher's Private Office — Later
The scent of ink, firewood, and faint lilac clung to the air. A knock came. Liora entered—precise, composed—with a bound folder in hand.
> "Your Grace," she said.
"Three names surfaced."
She laid the profiles across Sher's desk—parchment and ink, each one humming with quiet danger.
---
⚠️ Suspected Staff Connections
Lira – Kitchen Assistant
• Worked briefly at a Vale estate banquet
• Left suddenly after a guest was poisoned
• No formal explanation provided
Bellor – Footman (formerly stable boy)
• Connected to Irelith-backed merchant guild
• Receives anonymous mirror-script letters
Aliah – Laundry Maid
• Sings Crimson Bell coded lullabies
• Sister performed with the Halen troupe—deceased under mysterious circumstances
---
East Parlor — Late Evening
The fire crackled in the hearth, shadows flickering against the walls like restless ghosts. Lira sat perched at the edge of her chair, apron twisted in her hands. Across from her, Sher was calm. Too calm.
> "Y–Your Grace," Lira stammered.
"I didn't mean harm. I was just working. I'll tell you whatever you want."
Sher didn't raise her voice.
> "Why did you leave the Vale estate?"
> "There was a banquet," Lira whispered.
"Then someone collapsed—poison. We were locked in. Interrogated. Lady Myria..."
Her voice broke.
"She looked right through me. Like I was already gone."
> "Tell me about her," Sher said softly.
"What does she fear? What pleases her?"
> "She smiles when she already knows the answer," Lira said.
"Drinks her tea bitter. Never sweet. Her questions feel like bruises. You don't hear her anger, but... you feel it."
She paused. A breath.
> "She has a brother. I saw her with a locket once. She touched it like it was the only real thing in the room.
She calls her spies 'gardeners.' You won't see them—unless she wants you to."
---
War Room — Candlelight
Cassian leaned over the map-strewn table, candlelight dancing across his notes.
> "Bellor's letters are in Irelith mirror code," he muttered.
"He's likely a courier. Doesn't even know what he's carrying."
He tapped another file.
> "But Aliah... that lullaby of hers? Could be a trigger. Something embedded—deep memory conditioning."
Sher said nothing. Just stared.
> "The woman who delivered the message at dawn..."
Her voice dropped.
"That was Myria Vale, wasn't it?"
Cassian looked up.
> "She vanished after Elhorne. The Circle didn't erase her. They relocated her."
Sher's eyes narrowed.
> "She didn't look at me like an enemy. There was... hope in her eyes."
Cassian blinked. That word—from Sher—meant something.
> "Hope? Myria doesn't keep hope. She breaks it. But maybe..."
He paused.
"Maybe she saw herself. Who she used to be."
A knock.
Liora entered, holding parchment sealed in wax.
> "Your Grace. Both interviews are complete. And we found something."
---
🔍 Investigation Findings
Bellor
🔸 Hidden cylinder beneath floorboard
🔸 Encrypted letters—some mention Sher directly
🔸 Key phrase: "Observe the mother's shift. Report attachment."
🔸 Claims ignorance. Paid by a masked woman to store it
🔸 Conclusion: Unwitting courier
Aliah
🔸 Music box discovered. Plays Crimson Bell lullaby
🔸 Song includes embedded trigger phrase
🔸 Gifted anonymously after sister's death
🔸 Sister was killed during Halen's final tour
> Sher (coldly):
"Play it. Watch her. Record everything."
---
Interrogation Chamber
The room was sparse. Stone walls. One lantern. One chair.
A music box sat on the table. It clicked open.
The lullaby began—soft, eerie, beautiful in a way that made the skin crawl.
Aliah's breathing changed. Her eyes dilated. Her lips parted—and she hummed.
> Aliah (flat, hollow):
"The bell rings only for the hollow...
Tell me the name, and I will deliver silence."
Silence gripped the room.
Cassian whispered from the shadows.
> "She's not remembering. She's triggered. This was implanted."
Sher stood still. Her hand curled into a slow, deliberate fist.
> "Then let's find out..." she murmured.
"What she was programmed to silence."
The room was cold. Shadows stretched long across the stone floor, cast by flickering lanterns that barely warmed the air. At the center stood Aliah—still as death, her eyes glazed and unfocused. She looked less like a person and more like a puppet, waiting for her strings to be pulled.
Sher stepped forward, her boots echoing softly on the stone. Her voice sliced through the silence like a blade.
"Remember my voice," she said, quiet but firm—steel threaded beneath every word. "I'm Sher. I'll be the one giving commands."
At the sound, something subtle shifted in Aliah's posture. Her head tilted slightly, as though sensing a familiar presence. Her lips parted, breath shallow.
"Sher… confirmed," she murmured, her tone detached and distant. "Awaiting instruction."
A faint hum lingered in her throat—a haunting, rhythmic melody. It clung to the air like invisible thread, anchoring her to some unseen force.
Sher's heart pounded against her ribs.
This isn't right. This isn't Aliah. What did they do to you?
Behind her, Cassian stood motionless. His gaze was unreadable, but his quiet presence helped steady the tension in the room.
"Stand up," Sher commanded.
Aliah obeyed instantly. Her movements were smooth, almost unnatural—like water flowing uphill. She rose with eerie grace, limbs stiff but fluid, her stare unwavering.
"Standing. Awaiting next directive."
A guard near the doorway shifted uncomfortably. Even Liora, unflinching and proud, turned her eyes away. Something about Aliah's obedience was… wrong. Hollow. Mechanical.
Cassian stepped closer, his voice low and edged with unease.
"She's fully conditioned," he muttered. "No hesitation. Whatever the Crimson Bell did to her... it's still active."
He glanced at Sher.
"What do you want to do? We could press her for handlers, contacts—maybe even her targets."
Sher swallowed hard, her throat dry. She fought to keep her voice steady, though her stomach twisted.
"Who gave you the music box?"
Aliah's lips moved automatically. Her voice was lifeless, as though the words had been lying dormant inside her, waiting for this moment.
"Delivered by red-gloved hand… no name… no face. Dropped at the doorstep… after my sister's funeral."
A cold chill slithered through the room.
"There was a note," she continued. "'Hear and sing to the second verse every day.'"
Her fingers twitched—small, involuntary.
"Three days later… the dreams began. The Bell started speaking. In my head."
Then her chin lifted. Her eyes were still glassy, but a flicker of something else shone through—a quiet, disturbing reverence.
"He said… he is the voice no one can hear.
The silence that breaks the walls of emotion…
and frees the heart from suffering."
Sher clenched her fists. Her heart ached just looking at Aliah like this.
"What's the purpose of the song?" she asked.
The humming deepened. Aliah's words slowed, her tone almost ritualistic—half chant, half confession.
"The song is a seed… a key."
Her eyelids fluttered once. Her breathing slowed, like she was falling into a trance or remembering something carved into her very bones.
"It opens doors in the mind… trains obedience in the weak… and awakens the strong when the time comes."
A pause. Then her voice dropped, lower now.
"For me… it buried fear. It carved away guilt. Left only… purpose."
Her hands twitched again—sharper this time. Not a signal, but a warning.
"When the third verse plays," she said, "the target dies. That is the purpose of the song."
The air thickened like fog. Cassian moved swiftly, stepping closer to Sher. His voice was taut with urgency.
"She's been primed for assassination," he said. "If the full melody plays—and someone says a name—she'll kill. And she won't even know she's doing it."
Sher's heart thundered. The choice loomed heavy.
Then, without flinching, she said, "Play it. I need to know what happens."
Cassian's expression darkened. The tension between them crackled, sharp as broken glass.
"Sher," he said, his voice tight, "if she falls too deep into the trance, we might not be able to pull her back."
But still—he didn't stop her.
Because despite everything…
he trusted her.