The air in the library crackled with sudden, hostile tension. Seraphina's arrival was a calculated intrusion, a power play designed to reassert her dominance and put the upstart "scholar" in her place.
"Lady Seraphina," Kaelen said, rising to his feet with a formal, stiff bow. His face was a pale, strained mask, his mind still reeling from Lia's impossible declaration. "This is an unexpected surprise."
"I was just in the neighborhood, visiting a dear friend," Seraphina purred, gliding into the room. She ignored Lia completely, her attention focused on her cousin. "I thought I would see how your… special project was progressing. The Emperor is so very interested in our little Lia's education."
The emphasis on "our" was a subtle, proprietary claim, a reminder to both Kaelen and Lia of who truly held the power in the Valerius family.
"The lessons are proceeding as expected," Kaelen said, his voice clipped.
Seraphina finally turned her icy gaze on Lia. "So, the little mouse has a tongue after all," she said, her eyes raking over Lia's simple scholar's robes with disdain. "Tell me, Lia, what secrets have you been sharing with my cousin? You seem to have him utterly captivated."
It was a direct attack, a public accusation. Lia knew that how she responded to this would define her place in the court's hierarchy. She could retreat into her timid persona, or she could push back.
She chose to push.
She rose from her chair, her movements slow and deliberate, and gave Seraphina a shallow, almost impertinent curtsy. "We were just discussing the nature of truth, my lady," Lia said, her voice soft but clear. "How history is so often written by the victors, and how easily an honest man can be made a traitor with the stroke of a pen."
The words were a direct, pointed reference to the Valerius scandal. It was a daring, reckless move. Kaelen's breath hitched, and a flicker of alarm crossed his face.
Seraphina's smile tightened, a muscle twitching in her jaw. She had expected a frightened little mouse. She had not expected a viper to strike back.
"You have a bold tongue for a girl who sorts dusty books for a living," Seraphina hissed, her voice losing its sweet, melodic tone.
"Knowledge is the only currency I possess, my lady," Lia replied, her expression one of perfect, scholarly innocence. "I find it often more valuable than gold or titles."
It was a battle of wills, fought with poisoned words and veiled insults. Lia was using Seraphina's own arrogance against her, turning her condescension into a weapon. Seraphina, used to fawning sycophants, was momentarily thrown off balance. She had come here for an easy victory, to bully a commoner. She was not prepared for a strategic defense.
She turned her attack on Kaelen. "And you, cousin," she snapped. "You seem to have forgotten your place. Your duty is to the Emperor, not to the philosophical ramblings of a merchant's pet."
Before Kaelen could respond, Lia stepped forward, placing herself between them. "Master Valerius has been a most diligent and honorable tutor, my lady," she said, her voice still quiet, but now laced with a thread of steel. "He serves the Emperor by seeking the truth, as all true scholars do. A concept that perhaps you are unfamiliar with."
The final, audacious insult hung in the air. Seraphina stared at her, her beautiful face a mask of cold fury. She had lost this exchange, and she knew it. She had been outmaneuvered, made to look like a petty bully in front of her own cousin.
"We shall see how long your 'truth' protects you," she said, her voice a low, venomous whisper. She turned on her heel and swept out of the library, leaving a trail of cold fury in her wake.
The silence she left behind was profound. Kaelen stared at Lia, his expression a mixture of shock, awe, and a dawning, terrible understanding. He had just witnessed the "shy, retiring scholar" dismantle one of the most powerful and feared women at court without raising her voice.
"Who are you?" he breathed, the question no longer one of simple curiosity, but of profound, existential dread.
Lia met his gaze, her own expression serious. The time for games was over. "I am the woman who is going to give you back your family's name," she said.
She walked to the desk and picked up a quill. On a clean piece of parchment, she wrote a name and an address. It was the location of a retired Inquisitor, a man she knew from her past life, the one man who had secretly believed in the innocence of Kaelen's father.
"Go to this man," she said, handing the parchment to Kaelen. "Tell him the Shadow Hand sent you. He will tell you the truth you have been seeking."
It was the final, irreversible step. She was giving him a key, a key that would unlock a truth that could either save his family or destroy them all. She was placing her trust, and her life, in the hands of the Emperor's spy.
Kaelen looked at the parchment, then back at her, his mind a battlefield of loyalty, fear, and a desperate, rekindled hope.
Then, just as he was about to speak, he froze. His eyes widened, looking at something over her shoulder.
"The Emperor," he whispered, his voice filled with a sudden, new terror. "He has requested another meeting with you. Tonight. Alone."