The fashion show's brilliance lingered in memory long after the applause had faded, but Alex found little comfort in it. He sat now in Lady Marriane's private drawing room, shoulders taut, nerves knotted as he waited for Kael and Edrin to return. Every tick of the gilded clock carved deeper into his chest.
Riven perched casually on the arm of his chair, hand resting lightly on Alex's shoulder, grounding him with quiet presence. Across the room, Saphira poured tea with brisk precision, though the steady clink of porcelain betrayed her tension.
When the door finally opened, Kael and Edrin stepped inside—cloaks damp with night air, dust clinging to their boots. Both carried the kind of silence that weighed heavy, as though the Hall of Bonding itself still clung to them.
"You're late," Saphira said sharply, though her voice softened at the edges.
"Better late than never," Edrin muttered, brushing dust from his sleeves. His usual flippancy was dulled, however, eyes shadowed.
Kael laid a bundle of carefully folded papers on the table. "We found what we were looking for." His voice was low, steady—but his jaw was set like iron.
Alex leaned forward, breath tight. "The Duke of Veymore?"
Kael nodded. "Records confirm his marriage. His husband. And…" He unfolded one of the papers, ink faded but clear enough to read. "They adopted a son."
Silence gripped the room. The fire snapped in the grate, the only sound.
"They're dead, aren't they?" Alex whispered.
Edrin exhaled hard. "That's what the records claim. Both the Duke and the boy, lost years ago."
Lady Marriane's eyes narrowed. "Records can lie. Especially ones nobles want forgotten."
Kael's expression didn't change, but when he set the page in front of Alex, his gaze lingered. Alex's eyes fell on the name written there—
Callen Dareth.
The room shifted, breath held taut.
Alex's heart pounded, recognition flashing sharp as lightning. Callum Dareth. Professor Callum. The resemblance was too close to dismiss as chance.
"It can't be," Riven murmured, though his voice held no conviction.
Alex swallowed, forcing himself to steady his hands as he traced the letters. His voice was firmer than he felt. "No… it can. And it means Professor Callum isn't just connected to this—he's at the center of it."
The words landed heavy.
Lady Marriane's sharp gaze swept the group, her lips tightening. "Then we are in more danger than I feared."
Alex sat straighter, meeting their eyes one by one. His nerves were still there, coiled tight, but beneath them was something steadier—a rising determination. "Whatever this means, we face it together. And we won't turn back now."
Riven's hand squeezed his shoulder, warm and certain. "Damn right."
Around the table, one by one, the others nodded. The truth was darker than they had guessed, but it was theirs now—and they would see it through.