Dorian's POV
The cell door slammed shut with a sound that echoed in Dorian's chest like a physical blow.
He stood frozen in the hallway, staring at the spot where Elara had been seconds ago. The guards had dragged her away. Marcus and Celeste had smiled their victory smiles. And Dorian had done nothing.
He'd let them take her.
"Well, that was easier than expected," Marcus said, tucking the emotion potion into his coat. "I thought you'd fight harder for your pretend bride, Ashcroft."
Dorian's hands clenched into fists. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to attack Marcus, to wipe that smug expression off his face with violence.
But Elara's last words echoed in his mind: Find the truth. Clear my name.
He couldn't help her from a cell beside hers.
"Where are you taking her?" Dorian forced his voice to stay calm.
"Guild headquarters. She'll be tried tomorrow morning." Marcus smiled. "Execution by week's end, most likely. The Guild doesn't tolerate patricide."
"She didn't kill her father."
"Can you prove that?" Celeste stepped forward, her eyes glittering with malice. "Because we have a witness. A servant who saw Elara give Caius Veylin a potion the night before he died. A potion that caused his heart to fail."
"That's impossible. Elara loved her father—"
"Love makes people do terrible things," Marcus interrupted. "Maybe she wanted his research. Maybe she was jealous of his fame. Who knows what goes through the mind of a murderer?"
Dorian wanted to scream that they were lying. That this was all part of Vincent's conspiracy. But he had no proof. Not yet.
"I want to see her," he said.
"No visitors until after the trial." Marcus turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Dorian? Your fake engagement plan? It's over. Vincent sends his regards. He'll be claiming the Ashcroft inheritance by end of week."
They left, taking their guards with them.
The moment they were gone, Dorian ran.
He sprinted through the mansion, his mind racing faster than his feet. He had maybe twelve hours before Elara's trial. Twelve hours to find proof she was innocent. Twelve hours to unravel a conspiracy that had taken years to build.
He burst into his study and grabbed every file he'd collected on the case. Documents about his mother's death. Records of Elara's scandal. Notes on the conspiracy.
There had to be something. Some piece of evidence he'd missed.
A knock on the door made him look up.
Lyra stood there, her face streaked with tears. "They took her. Marcus and those guards—they took Elara and I couldn't stop them—"
"I know." Dorian pulled out more files. "How did you get here?"
"Followed them in a hired carriage. Dorian, they're saying she killed her own father. That's insane! Elara would never—"
"I know," Dorian said again. His hands shook as he sorted through papers. "But knowing isn't enough. I need proof."
Lyra wiped her eyes and straightened her shoulders. "Then let's find it. Tell me what you need."
For the next six hours, they tore through every document, every note, every scrap of evidence Dorian had collected. Lyra proved surprisingly good at spotting patterns he'd missed.
"Look at this," she said, holding up two documents. "Your mother died three days after meeting with Caius Veylin. Elara's father died two days after meeting with your mother's personal physician."
"So?"
"So they were connected. Working together. Sharing information." Lyra's eyes widened. "What if the witness who claims they saw Elara poison her father is the same person who poisoned your mother?"
Dorian's breath caught. "The witness. Marcus said it was a servant. Did he give a name?"
"No, but Guild records would have it." Lyra chewed her lip. "We need to get into Guild headquarters."
"That's impossible. Security is—"
"Is nothing compared to what we're already facing." Lyra stood. "I know people in the underground markets. People who can get us past Guild security. But we need to go now."
Dorian looked at the clock. Four in the morning. The trial was at ten.
Six hours.
"Let's go," he said.
They made it to Guild headquarters just as dawn was breaking. Lyra's contact—a former Guild employee with a grudge—got them through a back entrance used for deliveries.
"Records room is on the third floor," the contact whispered. "You have ten minutes before the morning shift starts."
They ran through dark hallways, Dorian's heart pounding. If they were caught breaking into the Guild, they'd both be arrested. But Elara's life was worth the risk.
The records room was locked. Dorian pulled out a small mechanical device—something he'd invented for precisely this kind of situation—and picked the lock in seconds.
Inside, rows and rows of files stretched into darkness.
"Find anything related to Caius Veylin's death," Dorian said. "Medical reports, witness statements, anything."
They searched frantically. Minutes ticked by like countdown to disaster.
"Found it!" Lyra pulled out a thick file. "Caius Veylin, deceased two years ago."
Dorian grabbed it and flipped through. Medical reports. Death certificate. And there—witness statements.
"The servant who claimed to see Elara give her father a potion..." Dorian read quickly, his blood running cold. "The name is listed as 'Anonymous, protected witness.'"
"That's illegal. All witnesses have to be named."
"Unless someone powerful is protecting them." Dorian kept reading. "But there's a note here from the investigator. He tried to interview the witness again a week after giving the statement but couldn't find them. The witness had disappeared."
"Or was disappeared," Lyra said grimly. "Dead witnesses can't recant their testimony."
Dorian's hands shook as he read further. "Wait. There's something else. A second investigator's report that was never filed officially. It says the poison allegedly used couldn't have caused the symptoms Caius displayed. Different timing, different effects. This investigator concluded the death was natural."
"So why wasn't this report included in the case against Elara?"
"Because someone buried it." Dorian photographed every page with a small device. "Someone who wanted Elara to look guilty."
They kept searching. In a different file—one marked "Closed Cases"—Lyra found something that made her gasp.
"Dorian. Look at this."
It was a report about his mother's death. But not the official one he'd seen before.
This one had been written by a different physician. One who suspected poisoning.
"Symptoms consistent with slow-acting mercury poisoning," Dorian read aloud, his voice breaking. "Recommended further investigation. Case closed by order of Edmund Ashcroft."
His father had shut down the investigation into his own wife's murder.
Why?
"There's a note attached," Lyra said softly. "A letter from your mother to the physician. Written a week before she died."
Dorian took the letter with trembling hands.
"Dear Dr. Moss,
I suspect my illness is not natural. My husband's business partner has been pressuring Edmund to abandon his collaboration with Caius Veylin. When Edmund refused, strange things began happening. I believe someone is poisoning me to force Edmund's hand.
If anything happens to me, please investigate. And please protect Caius and his daughter Elara. They're working on something revolutionary—something that could change everything. But there are powerful people who want to stop them.
Tell Edmund I love him. Tell Dorian to be brave.
Sincerely, Helena Ashcroft"
Dorian's vision blurred with tears. His mother had known. She'd tried to warn them. And his father had buried the evidence to protect... whom?
"Business partner," Lyra said. "Who was your father's business partner two years ago?"
Dorian's stomach dropped. "Vincent. My father made Vincent a partner six months before my mother died."
Everything clicked into place like the gears in one of his inventions.
Vincent had poisoned Dorian's mother to force their father to abandon his collaboration with Caius Veylin. When Caius kept working on the research alone, Vincent had him killed too. Then he'd framed Elara to ensure she couldn't continue the work.
And now Vincent was trying to finish what he started—executing Elara before she could expose the truth.
"We have to get to that trial," Dorian said, gathering all the evidence. "Now."
They ran out of the Guild, into the morning sunlight. The trial started in three hours.
But when they reached the street, Dorian froze.
Marcus stood there, surrounded by Guild enforcers.
"Did you really think we wouldn't notice you breaking in?" Marcus smiled coldly. "Guards, arrest them both for breaking and entering Guild property."
"Wait!" Dorian held up the files. "I have evidence. Proof that Elara is innocent. Proof that Vincent—"
"Is the one who told us you'd be here." Marcus gestured and the guards moved forward. "He's been watching you all night, Ashcroft. Every move you made, he knew. You've been playing right into his hands."
Dorian's blood turned to ice.
It was a trap. All of it. Vincent had let them find the evidence, let them think they were ahead, just so he could arrest them before they could use it.
"Take them to the holding cells," Marcus ordered. "Let them watch Elara's execution from behind bars. Vincent wants them to see what happens to people who defy him."
The guards grabbed Dorian's arms. He struggled, but there were too many.
"No!" Lyra screamed, fighting against her own captors. "You can't do this!"
Dorian watched helplessly as Marcus took the files—all their evidence, all their proof—and casually dropped them into a nearby water trough.
The ink ran. The papers dissolved.
Two years of investigation. Gone in seconds.
As they dragged Dorian away, he saw Marcus pull out a pocket watch and check the time.
"Three hours until the trial," Marcus said cheerfully. "I wonder if Elara knows she's going to die today? I hope she's making peace with her fate."
Dorian fought harder, but it was useless.
He'd failed.
Elara was going to be executed for a crime she didn't commit, and he couldn't save her.
They threw him into a cell two floors below the courtroom where Elara's trial would take place. Through the barred window, he could hear people gathering above. Excited whispers about the trial of the disgraced alchemist who'd killed her own father.
Dorian sank onto the cold stone floor, his head in his hands.
This couldn't be how it ended.
There had to be a way. Some plan he hadn't thought of. Some trick Vincent hadn't anticipated.
But his mind was blank with despair.
Above him, bells began to ring. Nine o'clock. One hour until the trial.
Dorian closed his eyes and prayed to any god who would listen.
Then he heard something that made his eyes snap open.
Footsteps. Coming down the stairs to the cells.
A figure appeared in the shadows outside his cell.
For a moment, Dorian thought it was Marcus, coming to gloat.
But then the figure stepped into the light, and Dorian's jaw dropped.
It was Professor Helena Wraith—his old university professor. The one who'd taught both him and Elara.
And she was holding a key to his cell.
"Get up, Mr. Ashcroft," Professor Wraith said crisply. "We have a trial to crash and a conspiracy to expose. And if we're very lucky, we might just save your alchemist before they put a noose around her neck."
She unlocked the cell door.
"But first," she said with a grim smile, "I need to tell you the truth about what your parents were really working on. The truth that's going to bring Vincent's entire empire crashing down."