The rest of the morning quickly disappeared into a succession of silent preparations.
The library ceased to resemble rely an improvised center of aristocratic conspiracy.
Now it functioned as a war room.
ssengers began to discreetly enter and leave Damon’s mansion carrying sealed letters, simple codes, and fragnted instructions that would never make sense in isolation. No complete information circulated among a single person. Elizabeth had insisted on this from the beginning.
"If anyone is captured," she explained calmly while rearranging docunts on the table, "no one should possess a complete overview of the operation."
Cherry observed this with genuine admiration.
"That’s paranoid in an extrely professional way."
"Thank you."
"That wasn’t exactly a complint."
"Even so."
Morgana completely ignored the side conversation.
She had spent the entire morning reviewing the blueprints of Arven Manor alongside Cedric. They were discussing routes, recent changes in security, and potential compromise points while small tal markers were constantly being repositioned on the map.
Damon watched them from a distance for a few monts.
It was strange to see Morgana like this.
Colder.
More precise.
The pain was still there. He could see it in the monts when she remained motionless for too long or when her attention briefly drifted to Sir Halbrecht’s blood-stained tape.
But now that pain had been compressed into sothing functional.
She was transforming grief into strategy.
And that made everything more dangerous.
"Will the n from the west wing continue to cooperate?" Damon asked, approaching the table.
Cedric nodded.
"If they see Lady Morgana alive inside the mansion, yes."
"You seem very confident about that."
The guard took a deep breath before answering.
"Because many of them were just waiting for a reason." Elizabeth discreetly raised her eyes at that.
"That ans the Duchess’s authority is already cracking internally."
"Even among the servants," Cedric added. "The kitchens are frightened. The servants have started sleeping in groups."
Cherry frowned.
"That’s never a good sign."
"No," Ingrivid replied, writing sothing in a small notebook. "People accustod to living in large houses develop quick survival instincts."
Elizabeth rested her arms on the table.
"Especially when they start hearing screams behind the walls."
The silence that followed was brief.
But heavy.
Because no one there had forgotten what Cedric had said about the sounds coming from the empty corridors of the mansion.
Damon slowly returned his gaze to the map.
"How long ago did these noises start?"
Cedric hesitated.
"About two weeks."
"Before the disappearances?"
"Yes."
Elizabeth imdiately grasped the implication.
"Then the Duchess’s behavior worsened afterward."
Morgana nodded slowly.
"She was already controlling before." Her voice ca out low. "But not like this."
Cherry tilted her head.
"What exactly does ’not like this’ an?"
Morgana took a few seconds to answer.
"She used to hide it."
That made the room even quieter.
Because everyone understood imdiately.
The Duchess had stopped hiding it.
That ant extre trust.
Or ntal deterioration.
Perhaps both.
Damon ran his fingers slowly along the side of the map.
"We need to consider the possibility that she’s not acting alone."
Elizabeth nodded imdiately.
"I agree."
Cherry sighed dramatically.
"Of course. Naturally, there’s a larger conspiracy. This was already looking too manageable."
Ingrivid completely ignored the comnt.
"If there’s another arcane operator inside the mansion, our infiltration plans beco much more unstable."
"Everything’s already unstable," Damon replied.
"Now it’s unstable and supernatural."
"Details."
Cherry imdiately pointed at him.
"See? That’s exactly the kind of phrase that precedes historical tragedies."
Morgana finally turned away from the map for the first ti in hours.
"It doesn’t matter how many allies she has." Her gaze hardened slightly. "It’s still my ho."
Elizabeth observed this in silence.
Then she asked calmly:
"Can you still see it as your ho?"
The question struck harder than any previous confrontation.
Morgana remained motionless.
For a whole mont, no one spoke.
Then she answered:
"No."
Her voice ca out almost empty.
"But my father is still there."
That ended any discussion.
Damon noticed Cherry discreetly avert her gaze. Even she had lost so of her usual humor at that.
The morning progressed slowly.
At noon, new reports arrived.
Two influential rchants had discreetly suspended supply contracts linked to the Duchess’s private guard. A banker had refused to renew ergency credit for the maintenance of the mansion’s internal troops.
Small movents.
But enough for Elizabeth to smile for the first ti that day.
"She’s already started to feel it."
Damon examined the docunts.
"You’ve been spreading rumors."
"Naturally."
"Which ones?"
Elizabeth slowly twirled the empty goblet between her fingers.
"Just insinuations." Her smile beca almost imperceptible. "Internal instability. Succession problems. Erratic behavior."
Cherry seed delighted.
"You destroy reputations like an artist."
"Thank you."
"That’s still not a complint."
"I disagree."
Morgana crossed her arms.
"How long until the nobles start to react?"
"So already have." Elizabeth pointed to one of the open letters. "House Verden wants security guarantees in case of a change of power."
Cherry blinked slowly.
"They’re negotiating even before the coup happens?"
"It’s the aristocracy," Elizabeth replied calmly. "They always bet on both sides."
Damon let out a small, tired sigh.
"Vultures."
"Survivors," Elizabeth corrected.
"Minimal difference."
In the early afternoon, Ingrivid finally finished organizing the external routes.
Small red circles marked evacuation points around Arven Manor. Secondary passages, hidden carriages, safe houses, and discreet contacts scattered throughout the city.
Cherry watched with growing fascination.
"You really expected an urban war."
Ingrivid didn’t even look up.
"I expected aristocrats."
"Fair enough."
Cedric then returned to the library after a brief outing to et an inside contact.
His face imdiately drew attention.
Sothing had worsened.
Morgana noticed first.
"What happened?"
The guard closed the door behind him before answering.
"The Duchess gathered all the remaining n in the main hall."
The atmosphere shifted imdiately.
"Why?" Damon asked.
Cedric looked uncomfortable.
"She believes there’s a traitor within the guard."
Cherry let out a small whistle.
"Paranoia is rapidly advancing."
"Did she execute soone?" Elizabeth asked.
Cedric nodded slowly.
Morgana stood motionless.
"Who?"
"A young man from the inner guard." The man swallowed hard. "She accused him of giving away information."
The silence beca brutal.
"Did she have proof?" Damon asked.
Cedric hesitated.
"No."
Elizabeth slowly closed her eyes.
"Then she’s losing control."
"Or trying to keep it through terror," Damon replied.
"Even worse."
Morgana slowly looked away.
But Damon noticed imdiately.
It had shaken her more than she wanted to show.
Because the mansion was ceasing to look like an occupied place.
Now it looked like a decaying, living organism.
Cedric continued:
"After the execution, she forbade any guard from circulating alone."
Ingrivid imdiately looked up from the map.
"That complicates our internal movents."
"Not completely," Cedric replied. "The veterans are still pretending to obey."
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.
"But?"
"They’re scared."
That word lingered in the air.
Scared.
Not revolted.
Not furious.
Scared.
And scared n made mistakes.
Damon slowly ran a hand over his face.
Ti was truly running out.
Morgana approached the table again.
"So we went in early."
Everyone looked at her.
"How early?" Damon asked.
"Today."
Silence instantly exploded in the room.
Elizabeth was the first to react.
"Reckless."
"Necessary."
"You’re reacting emotionally."
"And you’re reacting like soone sitting comfortably far away from it."
The tension returned imdiately.
Cherry watched the two of them like soone watching a storm brew.
Elizabeth held their gaze without flinching.
"If we storm the mansion too early without sufficient coordination, she’ll kill the Duke."
"She’s already killing people!"
"Because she’s seeking control."
Morgana slamd her hand on the table.
"She’s lost the right to keep breathing!"
The impact echoed through the library.
Cedric looked away.
Ingrivid stood motionless.
Cherry even stopped twirling the dagger.
Damon stepped forward.
"Morgana."
She was breathing fast now.
Control was beginning to slip again.
"She killed Halbrecht."
"I know."
"She destroyed my father."
"I know."
"Then stop acting like there’s still room for negotiation!"
"There’s no negotiation!" Damon finally raised his voice for the first ti. "There’s survival!"
Silence fell abruptly.
Heavy.
Morgana stared at him for long seconds.
Then she looked away.
And that was worse.
Because Damon imdiately realized what was there.
She was tired.
Exhausted.
Anger was the only thing keeping her functional.
Elizabeth seed to realize the sa thing.
Her voice softened slightly as she spoke again.
"If we fail tonight, Arven will descend into open war." She took a deep breath. "And his father will die first."
That finally hit Morgana.
She closed her eyes slowly.
Then nodded once.
Small.
Almost imperceptible.
But enough.
Damon exhaled slowly.
The situation had been dangerously close to collapsing.
Cherry observed everything in unusual silence before murmuring,
"We are an emotionally alarming group."
"No objection," replied Ingrivid.
The rest of the afternoon was consud by final preparations.
Weapons were separated.
ssages sent.
Routes morized.
Cedric drew from mory entire sections of the central wing of the mansion that had undergone recent alterations. Elizabeth finalized discreet agreents with two minor lords willing to publicly acknowledge Morgana should the Duchess be removed.
Everything was moving too fast.
And yet it seed insufficient.
As the sun finally began to disappear behind the towers of Arven, the library plunged once more into that strange silence that precedes great catastrophes.
No one spoke much now.
There was no need anymore.
Everything had already been decided.
Damon watched the city from the window when he heard footsteps approaching behind him.
Morgana.
She stopped beside him, saying nothing for a few seconds.
Outside, Arven glead under the cool golden light of the twilight.
Beautiful.
Peaceful.
Ignorant.
"I used to watch this city from here when I was a child," she said softly.
Damon remained silent.
"My father used to say that Arven seed eternal when viewed from above."
She smiled humorlessly.
"Now it seems fragile."
"Because it is."
Morgana finally turned her gaze to him.
"Do you really think we can do this?"
The question carried sothing rare. Not anger.
Not pride.
Fear.
Damon thought for a few seconds before answering.
"I don’t know."
She seed surprised by his honesty.
"But I know that if we do nothing, she wins."
Morgana held his gaze for a long mont.
Then she nodded slowly.
"Then let’s end this."
Behind them, Elizabeth sealed the last letter of the night.
Ingrivid distributed small hidden blades among Cedric’s n.
Cherry checked crossbow ammunition while humming sothing absurdly cheerful for soone about to invade an aristocratic fortress infested with forbidden magic.
And little by little...
Damon’s Mansion was becoming the starting point of sothing much bigger than a conspiracy.
Because that night, while Arven lit his lanterns and feigned normalcy once more...
A silent war would finally erupt within Arven Manor.
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