Chapter 243

Emilia's POV

The Council chamber smelled like old leather and expensive cologne. I sat at the long mahogany table, my hands folded neatly in my lap, my face arranged in the expression I'd perfected over forty years—attentive, thoughtful, just concerned enough to seem engaged.

"—and therefore, the proposed regulations on nightshade cultivation would require quarterly inspections—"

The chairman's voice droned on. I nodded at the appropriate moments. Smiled when others smiled. But I wasn't hearing a damn word.

All I could see was Evelyn's face. Those eyes, wide and accusing, staring up at me from the sawmill floor. Her lips forming that name. Se-rin-na.

My fingers tightened around the pen in my hand. The metal bit into my palm.

"Luna Goode?"

I blinked. The chairman was looking at me. Everyone was looking at me.

"Your thoughts on this proposal?"

I let my smile soften, bought myself two seconds to think. "I apologize. I was considering the implementation details." I tilted my head slightly. "I support the proposal. The safety protocols are thorough."

The chairman nodded, satisfied. The discussion moved on.

My phone buzzed in my purse. I ignored it. Then it buzzed again. And again.

I excused myself with a murmured apology and stepped into the hallway. The marble floors gleamed under the crystal chandeliers. I pulled out my phone.

Goode Manor Butler

My heart did something weird. A skip, then a hard thud that made my ribs ache.

I answered. "What is it?"

"Luna Goode!" The maid's voice was high and panicked. "The butler—he collapsed! We don't know what happened, he just—"

"When?" The word came out sharp.

"Half an hour ago. He's still unconscious. We called Miss Eileen to examine him, she's with him now—"

"I'm coming."

I hung up. My hands were steady as I gathered my things, made my excuses to the Council. But inside, something cold was spreading through my chest.

Half an hour. Eileen was already there.

I drove too fast. The roads blurred past. My mind was racing.

The butler had been with the Goode family for forty years. He'd seen everything. Everything. But he'd never said a word. Never even hinted. I'd thought... I'd thought he was just a servant. Invisible. Safe.

But now Evelyn was dead. And suddenly the butler collapses?

No. No, that wasn't a coincidence.

---

I found them in the butler's quarters. The small room felt crowded with just the three of us—me, Eileen, and the old man lying on the narrow bed.

Eileen was bent over him, her fingers pressed to his wrist. That green glow flickered around her hand. Healing magic.

"How is he?" I kept my voice gentle. Concerned. The perfect Luna.

Eileen looked up. Her face was pale. "It's strange. His vitals are unstable, but I can't find a clear cause."

I moved closer to the bed. The butler's eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. His face was gray.

But something felt wrong. I couldn't put my finger on it. Just... wrong.

"Perhaps he's simply old," I suggested softly. "The body fails sometimes."

"Maybe." Eileen frowned. "But—"

The butler groaned. We both froze.

"He's talking," Eileen said quickly. "Might be delirium."

The old man's lips moved. "No... can't... not like this..."

My pulse kicked up. I forced myself to stay still. To keep breathing normally.

"Serena..." The name was barely a whisper. "Can't give her... the formula..."

The room tilted.

"Emilia... that night... I saw..."

Oh God. Oh God, no.

"He's delirious," I said. My voice came out too fast. I made myself slow down. "Fever can cause this. Hallucinations."

Eileen was staring at the butler. "But his temperature is normal. And what he's saying—"

"Makes no sense." I cut her off. "Unconscious people say random things. Fragments of old memories mixed with dreams."

I couldn't let her think about this. Couldn't let her wonder.

That night. The laboratory. Serena's face when she realized what I'd done.

I'd been so careful. So careful. No one had been there. Just the two of us.

Except... except maybe they hadn't been. Maybe this old man had seen something. Heard something.

And now he was talking in his sleep.

"I should prepare some herbs," Eileen said, standing. "Something to stabilize him."

"Good idea." I nodded. "I'll stay with him."

She hesitated. For a second I thought she wouldn't leave. But then she walked out, her footsteps fading down the hall.

The moment the door closed, I turned to the bed. The butler's eyes were still closed. But I could see it now—the slight tension in his jaw. The way his breathing wasn't quite as shallow as before.

He was faking.

I walked over slowly. Stood looking down at him.

"How much do you know?" I whispered.

No response. But his eyelids flickered. Just once.

Fear. He was afraid of me.

Good. He should be.

My hand went to my purse. The small silk pouch was right where I always kept it. Suffocation vine powder, concentrated. Untraceable if you knew how to use it.

I'd learned a long time ago that some problems needed permanent solutions.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

And I meant it. Sort of. The butler had always been loyal. He'd served this family well.

But he'd seen too much.

I opened the pouch. The powder was fine as dust, gray-green in the dim light. Just a pinch in his water, and his lungs would seize. It would look like his heart gave out. Natural causes. An old man's death.

My fingers were steady as I reached for the water glass on the nightstand.

The butler's eyes snapped open.

"Luna."

I jerked back, the pouch disappearing behind my back. "You're awake."

His face was pale. His eyes were terrified.

For a second—just a second—I felt it. Guilt. This man had been nothing but faithful. He'd never asked for anything. Never caused trouble.

And I was about to kill him.

But then I remembered Serena's face. The way she'd looked at me when she understood. The betrayal in her eyes.

I'd come too far to stop now.

I smiled. Soft. Reassuring. "You gave us quite a scare. Here, drink some water."

I poured a fresh glass from the pitcher. Turned my back to him as I did. My hands moved quickly, efficiently. A pinch of powder dissolved into the water. Invisible.

When I turned back, my expression was nothing but concern.

"Careful now." I helped him sit up, supported his shoulders. "Small sips."

His hands were shaking as he took the glass. I watched his fingers close around it. Watched him lift it slowly toward his lips.

My heart was pounding. Hard. Fast. Almost painful.

Just drink it. Just drink it and this will all be over.

The glass touched his mouth. I saw his throat work as he prepared to swallow—

The door burst open.

Eileen stood there, herbs in her hands, her green eyes sharp.

And I knew. I knew she'd seen something in my face. Something I hadn't hidden fast enough.

The glass froze at the butler's lips.