Cherry burst into the room like a satisfied whirlwind, Elizabeth close behind, carrying a notebook, two loose sheets of paper, and the dangerously animated expression of soone who had just heard the words "corrupt interdiaries." Damon stepped away from the door and indicated the chair opposite Seraphine’s with a simple gesture. Elizabeth sat down imdiately, crossing her legs and resting the notepad on her lap, as if this makeshift room were a perfectly acceptable office.
"Excellent," she said, adjusting the pen between her fingers. "Let’s begin before I lose my enthusiasm or Cherry resorts to recreational violence."
"Recreational violence is a respectable tradition," replied Cherry, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
Seraphine looked from one to the other with weary disdain.
"You are deeply irritating."
"Great sign," said Damon. "It ans we’re making progress."
Elizabeth opened her notebook and looked up at the prisoner.
"You ntioned representatives connected to the city council. I want nas, offices, habits, schedules, and any detail that helps make their lives miserable."
Seraphine tilted her head with renewed irony.
"You ask a lot of soone in handcuffs."
"Ropes," Cherry corrected. "And I can tighten them."
"Cherry," Damon said without even looking at her.
"I was only offering hospitality."
Elizabeth tapped her pen on the page twice impatiently.
"First na."
Seraphine held her gaze for a few seconds and then yielded, perhaps realizing that Elizabeth would be more persistent than usual brutality.
"Marcel Duret. Officially, a fabric rchant. In practice, he handles paynts between warehouses and public departnts."
The pen ran imdiately across the paper.
"Address."
"Bellmare Street, corner of the old square. Dark green house with overly gilded railings."
Cherry smiled.
"I already hate him."
"The second one," Elizabeth demanded.
"Jonas Pell. Urban licensing office. Takes fees for delaying inspections, making complaints disappear, and authorizing shipnts without inspection."
Ester appeared in the doorway at that mont, drawn by the possibility of useful information. She carried a stack of maps under her arm and imdiately began speaking.
"Pell appears on two port traffic lists."
Elizabeth didn’t even turn around.
"Of course he does."
Seraphine raised an eyebrow.
"Do you always work over each other like this?"
"Yes," Damon replied. "It’s exhausting."
"It’s efficient," Ester corrected, approaching.
Morgana appeared soon after, silent as an elegant shadow. She said nothing imdiately, only observed Seraphine with a calmness almost worse than open hostility. Aria also appeared in the hallway, holding a tray with tea and sothing baked, looked at the number of people cramd into the room and sighed deeply.
"Naturally. Everyone decided to interrogate soone at lunchti."
Cherry raised her hand.
"I’ll have two servings."
"You’ll have everything," Aria replied.
Within a few minutes, the small room had transford into another extension of the main hall. Damon stood behind Elizabeth. Morgana leaned against the narrow window. Esther spread maps on a side table. Cherry took one of the cakes from the tray without permission. Aria pretended not to see.
Seraphine looked around, incredulous.
"You’ve turned my interrogation into a social gathering."
"Yes," Morgana said for the first ti. "And yet it’s still about you."
The sentence landed more than a slap. Seraphine straightened slightly.
Elizabeth returned to the subject.
"Who receives above these n?"
"Not direct nas," Seraphine replied. "Orders pass through scribes, procurators, forr servants. Always in layers."
"Which noble houses?"
"I suspect two."
"Suspicion doesn’t help," Damon said.
"It serves as a direction," she retorted.
Elizabeth pointed the quill at the prisoner.
"Speak."
Seraphine took a deep breath.
"Halbrecht has maintained an interest in trade routes for decades. They lost fortune, not ambition. Valcor... so smaller branches survived in the shadows. And there are new patrons buying old influence."
Morgana slowly uncrossed her arms.
"New patrons?"
"Enriched rchants. Bankers. People without coats of arms buying bankrupt surnas."
The room fell silent for a mont. That explained a lot. Old families ruined, newly rich hungry for legitimacy, corrupt politicians in the middle, and drugs financing it all.
Ester marked three points on the map.
"If Duret moves paynts and Pell cleans up tax collection, we need to know where the money rests before it’s distributed."
Seraphine looked at her.
"You think fast."
"You talk slowly."
Cherry laughed loudly.
"Get married."
"Never say that again," Ester replied imdiately.
Elizabeth turned another page.
"Safes. Accounts. Money exchanges."
"There was a pawn shop used as a cover," said Seraphine. "South District. Fake na: Rising Sun."
Cherry chewed while frowning.
"Terrible na for a criminal business."
"Criminals rarely have a talent for marketing," comnted Aria.
Damon finally moved, approaching Seraphine until she had to lift her face to look at him.
"Are you cooperating out of fear of Cherry or out of survival instinct?"
"Both can coexist."
Cherry seed genuinely proud.
"I inspire personal growth."
Morgana let out a brief nasal laugh. Damon ignored everyone.
"If you’re leading us into traps, I’ll find out quickly."
Seraphine held his gaze.
"If I wanted traps, I would have given more important nas."
Elizabeth froze for a second and then smiled slowly and predatorily.
"Excellent. That ans there are still better nas."
Seraphine realized her mistake too late.
"I misspoke."
"No," said Elizabeth, already writing. "You expressed yourself perfectly."
In the main hall, new stacks of docunts continued to be brought in by discreet servants of the mansion. Ingrivid coordinated the sorting with his usual silent efficiency. When she entered the room, she carried a small leather bag and dropped it on the table.
"I found this hidden at the bottom of a box."
Elizabeth opened it. Inside were numbered tal tokens and small stamps.
Seraphine stood motionless for a fraction of a second.
Damon saw.
"What are these?"
She hesitated.
Cherry dropped half of her cupcake.
"Ah, now cos the good stuff."
Seraphine closed her eyes, annoyed with herself.
"Access passes."
"Where to?" asked Esther.
"Private casinos. Closed halls. Clubs where transactions are done without records."
Morgana stepped away from the window.
"I know this system."
Everyone looked at her.
"Of course you do," said Cherry. "You know all the expensive gossip in town."
Morgana ignored the comnt.
"These places operate under the guise of entertainnt. Music, cards, drinks. In the back, they sell favors."
Elizabeth held up a card.
"So we have the door."
"We have a door," Damon corrected. "Maybe with ard n behind it."
"Perfect," Cherry replied.
Aria placed another tray on the table, this ti with coffee.
"If you’re going to plan recklessness, do it awake."
Damon took a cup this ti without protest. Cherry clapped her hands.
"Advanced dostication."
"Cherry," said Morgana.
"Yes?"
"Be quiet for twenty seconds."
She thought.
"Cruel."
Elizabeth spread the cards in a line.
"How many locations?"
"Three active ones," Seraphine replied. "An old theater in the west district. A card club near the high canal. A music house on the central avenue."
Ester was already sketching out routes.
"The theater has stage exits and underground corridors. The card club is surrounded by alleyways. The music hall is the most public."
"Ingrivid?" Damon asked.
"The theater is best for escape. The club is best for ambush. The music hall is best for surveillance."
Cherry raised her hand like a diligent student.
"Which is best for morable destruction?"
"All of them," Damon replied.
"Excellent."
Seraphine observed the group’s dynamics with sothing close to perplexity.
"You really intend to attack this today."
"Yes," Elizabeth replied.
"Without official support?"
"Correct."
"Without a mandate?"
Cherry laughed so hard she coughed.
"She’s adorable."
Morgana approached Seraphine’s chair and lowered herself enough to look them in the eye.
"My dear, when institutions are bought, the mandate becos re decoration."
Seraphine remained silent.
That, more than threats, seed to bother her.
Damon took a sip of coffee and grimaced.
"Bitter."
Aria replied from the hallway:
"It’s coffee."
He took another sip anyway.
Elizabeth closed her notebook decisively.
"Simple plan. We investigate two locations before nightfall. We attack the third at night."
"Better plan," said Damon. "We investigate one. We follow whoever escapes. We find the rest." Ester nodded imdiately.
"More efficient."
"More fun," Cherry added.
Morgana crossed her arms.
"More risky."
"Also," Damon said.
Seraphine let out a short laugh.
"You’ll die exhausted."
"We’ll rest afterward," Cherry replied.
"You never rest?"
"Not really."
In the hallway, a sound of sothing falling was heard, followed by Ingrivid’s voice:
"It was an accident."
No one believed him.
Damon placed the empty cup on the table and looked at Seraphine one last ti.
"You’re coming with us."
She blinked.
"Excuse ?"
"If you recognize faces, symbols, or lies, it will be useful."
"I refuse."
Cherry was already behind her chair.
"Request denied."
"This is kidnapping."
"Technically," Elizabeth said, gathering the papers, "you were already kidnapped."
Aria covered her face with her hand.
"You give a headache."
Morgana straightened up gracefully.
"Get ready in an hour. I want discreet clothing, clean routes, and no unnecessary spectacle."
Cherry raised a finger.
"Define spectacle."
"You in public."
"Gratuitous hostility."
Damon opened the door and went out first. The others began to move in coordinated waves of habitual chaos. Elizabeth took the nas to cross-reference with records. Ester ran to get better maps. Ingrivid went to sort equipnt. Aria went to get dicine and portable food. Cherry started arguing with Seraphine about which rope was more comfortable.
Morgana stayed last in the room, staring at the prisoner for a silent mont.
"If he’s lying," she said softly, "Damon won’t be the one I’ll worry most."
Then she left, closing the door behind her.
Seraphine remained motionless for a few seconds, listening to the mansion awaken to a warlike rhythm.
Outside, voices crisscrossed the corridors, footsteps echoed, weapons were prepared, and pages were turned. The entire house breathed purpose.
She looked at the closed door and murmured to herself:
"How is this gang still alive?"
Outside, Cherry replied imdiately:
"Stubbornness and talent."
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