Chapter 163 Records don't lie

Chapter 163 Records don't lie

Seraphine POV

I hated the truth.

Not because I couldn't handle it. Not even because I didn't want it. I just hated that every time I thought I'd pinned it down, it multiplied. Cut off one head, three more sprout up... like a damn hydra.

I’d spent months on this hunt for answers. First, my parents. Then the necklace. Selene. Kael. Over and over, every time I thought, finally, here it is. A finish line. Relief. Then, no... another hole in the wall, another door opening to a room full of secrets and lies. And now this: a conspiracy, powerful nobles, people who wanted my mother dead, people who wanted me dead. That realization just sat there, lead-heavy in my chest.

Verya’s sitting room went dead quiet. A pile of letters sprawled across the table between us... proof that Selene knew what she was walking into. Proof that her fear made sense.

I stared at one letter. The handwriting was almost beautiful. I tried, not very successfully, to imagine what her final months must’ve been like. It made me sick.

“How many?” My own voice felt too far away, even for me.

Lady Verya looked up. “How many what?”

“How many people were involved?”

Silence. She glanced at the letters for a moment, weighing her words. Then she said, “More than you would like.”

I laughed, short and sharp. Not exactly comforting. Agora had already shifted gears... his whole posture changed. The personal conversation was over. Politics now. He pulled a little notebook out of his coat, then a charcoal pencil. My stomach twisted. Agora only did that when things got out of hand. When something real and dangerous started.

He glanced at Verya. “Names.”

Just like that. No pretense. Just direct, sharp, and to me, scary.

She didn’t rush. Instead, she crossed the room, unlocked a cabinet, and brought back a heavy leather folder. She laid it on the table like a judge lays down a sentence. The folder hit, dust went up, and I felt myself tense.

“This is why I called for us to meet right away.” Her voice had gone iron-hard. No warmth left. She sounded like someone who’d protected secrets too long... not just a survivor, but someone steeled by years of hiding.

Lady Verya opened the folder and started laying out documents, letters, and notes. My pulse hammered. She’d been collecting all this. For how long?

She slid a page toward Agora. He read it right away, eyes narrowing. First, he was focused, then worried, and then, something darker passed through him.

“These families stayed in power?” he asked.

Verya nodded. “Most of them.”

I couldn’t hold back. “What families?”

She looked at me for a second, as if measuring how much to say. Then: “Several noble houses opposed Selene’s reforms.”

I frowned. “Because she wanted peace?”

She didn’t pause. “Because peace threatened their profits.”

Cold. Brutal. My stomach dropped.

“War makes people rich,” Verya went on. The words crawled over my skin. Then, she started naming them: House Varick, House Thorn, House Drael, House Morvain. I had never heard of them, but Agora definitely had. I saw it on his face. His pencil flew across the page, piecing things together.

“These families controlled trade,” Verya said. “Military contracts. Supply chains. Territory taxes.” Her face grew sharp. “Selene wanted to break their hold.”

That’s when I understood. It wasn’t about weakness. They hated her for one thing: she dared to threaten their power. That made me angry. Really angry.

My mother wanted to help people. They wanted her dead for it.

Lady Verya pointed to another document. “And several of these families backed Kael immediately after Selene died.”

Agora’s eyes narrowed. “Immediately?”

She nodded, unwavering. “Within days.”

It was too fast. Like they had been waiting. Like they already knew.

I traded a glance with Agora. He looked as rattled as I felt.

Verya kept going, voice steady. “After the fire, witnesses vanished. Records disappeared. Servants were let go. Officials changed their stories.”

Every word made the room feel colder. None of this was an accident. This was a machine. A cover-up that had run for years. Powerful people closing ranks, protecting themselves.

I rubbed my forehead, drained. “If Kael dies tomorrow…” That was all I got out.

Verya understood. “The corruption lives.” Plain. Final. No hesitation.

My gut twisted. She was right. Kael wasn’t the whole problem... he was just part of a bigger, uglier structure. It terrified me, honestly. I wasn’t up against a single villain. I was staring at an entire system built on secrets and greed.

Verya watched me. “You understand now.”

I swallowed. “Not really.”

She almost smiled, something sad passing across her face. “No one does.” It was the first honest thing I had heard all evening.

She sighed. She looked tired. “I spent years thinking exposing Kael would change everything.” Her hand traced the letters lightly. “I was wrong.”

Silence folded around us. I stared at the pile of evidence, the ugly truth spelled out in names and files.

I never wanted any of this. Not politics, not power, certainly not a throne. All I’d ever wanted were answers. And now, all the answers were just giving me more burdens.

Agora kept scribbling, his concentration iron-clad. Eventually, I broke the silence. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t look up. “Preparing.”

One word, and suddenly I was nervous again. “Preparing for what?”

Agora looked up, face grim, and the answer was right there in his eyes.

Serious.

Dangerously serious.

“For what comes next.”

My stomach twisted. I recognized that look right away... I had seen it before battles, before negotiations, before those choices that could crack a kingdom in two. The look of someone already dreaming up their next ten moves. And that scared me. It meant we weren’t done here. Not even close.

Verya flicked her hand at another page. “There are financial records too.”

Agora went straight for them. In a flash, the two of them were deep in talk... alliances, trade deals, armies, political fallout, the entire web. I tried to keep up, really tried, but to me, it was like listening to some foreign tongue. One built from power, manipulation, strategy... a language I never learned.

Then something happened. Agora’s hands reached for one particular document. Instantly, something changed. Not loud, but sharp. His hand just stopped, right in the middle of a movement, and his pencil slipped from his fingers, hitting the table with a soft tap. The room snapped quiet.

I watched him, frowning. “Agora?”

Nothing. He stared at that page, not moving, color seeping out of his face.

Verya caught on too. “What is it?”

Still, his eyes never left the paper. His skin looked a little paler now. That’s never good.

Slowly—painfully slowly—he lifted his gaze. For the first time in this whole discussion, I saw something raw in his eyes. This wasn’t a worry. Not anger. Real shock.

My heart jumped hard. “What?”

Agora stared between Verya, the document, and me. He said nothing. The silence pressed down, thick, until I finally had to break it. “What is it?” I asked again.

His jaw worked. When he finally spoke, his voice dropped, rougher, almost hoarse. "I know one of these names."

Dead quiet. Verya’s brows pulled tight. “That’s not surprising.”

“No.” He didn’t look up. “It is.”

Cold spidered up my spine. I got it then. This wasn’t simple recognition. It cut deeper. This was personal... and dangerous.

I shot to my feet, heart thundering. “Agora.”

He finally met my eyes, and something in his face made my gut go cold. For the first time since we left Wildfire, he looked afraid. Genuinely afraid.

He turned the page toward us, finger pressed on a single name. One that had trailed us, unseen, from Wildfire. A name neither of us ever expected him to know. And whatever connected him to it... Well, it shattered everything.