Bern ushered in the duke and a young lady wearing a veil, though he knew this must be Lady Rashet. They had taken a path around the back of the building, where there was a private stairs toward the third floor.
Nyasia didn't feel the strain in the air as she stepped into the hallways, passed by the men fearful of the person walking beside her.
At last, she entered a room. It was a large study, filled with book shelves, sculptures and antique collections. Without a word, she settled onto the sofa and started reading through a document Dorian had given her. Then he walked across room and poured himself a drink from a decanter. The study carried the scent of mahogany and sweet wine.
Still reading, Nyasia creased her brows. The document was a detailed report on the finance minister's misused of funds. One of them was depositing large sums of money to the south for "flood control projects," yet no such projects existed. Besides, the south was a mountainous region. It didn't need those projects to begin with.
"This means someone is getting all that money for a different purpose," she murmured. "Why the south?"
His gaze drifted to the heavy black coat draped over her silk nightgown. Her brown eyes were sharp, fixed on the paper.
"Who knows?" He sipped his drink. "The south is full of strange places. Churches. Temples."
She fluttered. "The Jade Temple."
Dorian barely reacted.
"That's where Maryan has lived in the past years," she said. This explained why Maryan was sure of herself. She had a powerful benefactor supporting her. And this benefactor was the one receiving those funds, and the Jade Temple as their headquarter.
Meanwhile, Dorian sipped his drink again and thought about the forger. The man had copied his handwriting perfectly. The day after the banquet, they found him dead in a tavern. Days later, the Nox woman and the scholar were killed too. But his men had seen it coming. They let it happen. 'That's how you find out who's really behind things.'
"They're careful," he said. "But too much of that leaves a mark. I have an idea who they are. But I don't talk until I'm sure."
Nyasia's gaze lifted up to look at him. This was no different from her brother letting a maid die in the annex building just to gauge the enemy's capabilities.
"You mean this scandal about the finance minister was caused by Maryan's sponsor?" she asked. "So they provided the documents to go against the Kissells. What's the reason?"
"The Kissells and the Varyns together scared them, Sia." He sipped briefly. "Imagine a man who owns vast lands and a minister who controls the funds. They couldn't just watch."
She thought about it. If that were the case, Maryan's benefactor js most likely part of a royal faction that Dorian probably disliked. So he schemed a marriage alliance was about to happen just to provoke them.
He put down his drink.
"You're cruel," she murmured.
He smiled. Then he sat beside her.
"Should I be grateful to a man who stole public funds?" he said, as his legs crossed and arm went around the armrest behind her, and he tilted his head to look at her.
"You don't care about the Kissells?"
"Only my father owes them anything."
He leaned in, closer to the side of her face, as her hands pressed hard against his chest.
"What does this have to do with the iron mine, Your Grace?"
He watched her mouth, his jaw moving slowly. Then he leaned away. "They're most likely spending those funds on iron ore," he said, a mocking smile on his lips, gaze looking straight. "Someone is building weapons, Sia."
Nyasia's eyes wandered, shifting, as her mind was suddenly assaulted by a flurry of visions—ones that had once been blurred but now came alive. It was after her father's death. The image of Maryan laughing hysterically before the Rashet elders at the main hall.
"Too bad, isn't it? Even the real heiress had to be buried in secret so that no one would ever know that her death meant everything here collapses." Divya laughed again.
The head elder stomped his foot.
"You—"
"Oh, elder, it's too late now! Didn't you make that girl scared of sunlight in order to control Levon?"
The elder's face turned white.
"So you killed her?"
"My daughter is Lady Rashet now." Divya smirked. "You don't have a choice. No one owns the iron mine now. Levon's illegitimate, and if the emperor knows this, he'll take the mine."
The elder's gaze darkened, looking at Maryan standing beside Divya. "And you want to take Nyasia's place?" he shouted.
"Why not?" Maryan shrugged, the crossed her arms. "She's an unknown daughter. And I can surely take up her place."
The elder gave a hollow laugh.
"You two are truly ambitious and confident. And you even tricked us into selling iron ores just to create weapons!"
"That's how it takes to become an empress, elder," Maryan said with a flat voice. "Next month, I and the Third Prince would wed. It should make you proud, elder. I'm going to bring Rashet's name to higher heights."
But the scene disappeared except different voices remained, screaming, moaning. Suddenly she saw the Rashet main hall covered in a pool of blood.
At the center stood a tall figure with obsidian eyes—cold, unblinking—his sword driven through the same elder's chest. The blade didn't tremble at all.
And then—
"Sia."
Nyasia's eyes flickered open. She saw those dark, intense eyes watching her. For a moment, her mind was blank. Then she felt his fingers on her chin.
"Aren't you supposed to be well now?" Dorian's voice was low, with a faint edge of suppressed anger. "What has your kitchen been feeding—"
He stopped when she put her finger gently on his lip, silencing him. But the way she did it made his heart beat faster.
*