Chapter 244

Eileen's POV

The herbs felt heavier than they should have in my arms as I pushed open the butler's door. My heart was already racing—had been racing since I'd left to gather them. Every second I was gone felt like a lifetime.

What I saw when I stepped inside made my blood turn to ice.

Emilia was leaning over the bed. Her hand was on the butler's shoulder, helping him sit up. And in his trembling fingers was a glass of water, almost touching his lips.

"Aunt Emilia?" The words came out sharper than I intended. "What are you doing?"

She turned. For just a split second—maybe half a second—her face was completely blank. Empty. Like a mask had slipped.

Then she smiled. Warm. Concerned. Perfect.

"Eileen! He just woke up. I was giving him some water."

My feet moved before my brain caught up. I crossed the room in three quick steps, my hand shooting out to grab the butler's wrist.

"Sorry!" The glass tilted in his grip. Water sloshed over the rim, splashing onto the white sheets. But I kept my hold steady, guiding the glass down to the nightstand instead of letting it fall. "I'm so clumsy—I should have been more careful—"

"It's fine." Emilia's voice was tight. Just for a moment. Then it smoothed out again. "I'll get another glass."

"No." I put my hand on her arm. Gentle. Casual. "Actually, you shouldn't give water to someone who just regained consciousness. They might choke."

I felt her muscles tense under my fingers. Her smile didn't waver.

"Of course. How thoughtful of you." She stepped back. "You're the healer, after all."

Moby was vibrating on my shoulder. Tiny tremors running through his whole body. He knew. He always knew when something was wrong.

I set the herbs down beside the water glass and placed my palm on the butler's forehead. Green light flickered around my fingers—healing magic, or at least that's what it looked like.

"I need to stabilize him first," I said, closing my eyes.

But I wasn't checking his vitals. I was sending a message.

Magic has texture. Most people don't know that. It's not just light and power—it's communication. If you know how to shape it right, you can make it speak.

I pulsed the magic in the pattern we agreed on. Three short bursts. Two long. Three short again.

Keep acting. Stay unconscious. You're safe.

The butler's eyelid twitched. Once. Barely visible.

He'd understood.

Behind me, I could feel Emilia watching. Her gaze was like a physical weight on my back. I kept my breathing steady, my expression focused. Just a healer doing her job.

"How is he?" Her voice was closer than I expected.

I opened my eyes and pulled my hand back. "Unstable. He needs rest." I turned to face her. "I should stay with him tonight. Monitor his condition."

"Both of us could—"

"You've been at the Council all day." I kept my tone respectful. Concerned. "You must be exhausted. And Grandfather—he probably needs you."

Something flickered in her eyes. Calculation, maybe. Or frustration.

She was quiet for a long moment. Too long.

Then she asked, "Eileen... do you believe what the butler said earlier? When he was delirious?"

My heart kicked against my ribs. Hard.

"What did he say?" I tilted my head, letting confusion show on my face. "He was already unconscious when I arrived."

Moby copied the gesture, his whole body tilting sideways on my shoulder. Playing dumb.

Emilia's smile tightened at the corners. "Nothing. Just... fever dreams."

"Delirium is common with sudden collapse," I said. Professional. Clinical. "The brain tries to process stress through fragmented memories. It doesn't mean anything."

"Of course." She smoothed down her skirt. "Well. If you're sure you'll be alright alone..."

"I'll be fine."

She walked toward the door. Slow steps. Measured. At the threshold, she stopped.

"Eileen." She didn't turn around. "If he wakes up and says anything... unusual... you'll tell me, won't you?"

The question hung in the air like smoke.

"Of course, Aunt Emilia."

She left. The door clicked shut behind her.

I didn't move. Didn't breathe. Just listened to her footsteps fade down the hallway. One floor. Two floors. The distant sound of her bedroom door closing.

Only then did I exhale.

"She's gone," I whispered.

The butler's eyes snapped open. His face was gray, sweat beading on his forehead.

"She was going to kill me." His voice shook. "She really was going to—"

"I know." My hands were already moving. I grabbed the water glass from the nightstand and held it up to the light. About half the water remained—the rest had splashed onto the sheets when I'd grabbed his wrist.

Green magic pulsed from my fingertips, seeping into the liquid. The water turned cloudy for a second, then cleared. But I could feel it now—the foreign substance mixed in. Bitter. Toxic.

Suffocation vine.

The same poison that killed Evelyn.

"It's the same," I said quietly. "The exact same compound."

My heart was pounding. This was it. This was the evidence I needed.

I pulled a small empty vial from the pouch at my belt—the one I always carried for collecting herb samples. My hands shook slightly as I carefully poured the remaining water into it, sealing the cork tight.

This time, she wouldn't be able to destroy the evidence. Not like the blood message. Not like the recording pen.

I tucked the vial deep into my pocket, then turned to the wet spots on the sheets. The fabric had absorbed some of the poisoned water. I couldn't take the whole sheet—that would be too obvious—but I could take a piece.

"What are you doing?" the butler whispered.

"Making sure we have proof." I pulled out a small knife from my herb kit and cut a square from the wet fabric. It went into another sealed pouch. "Two samples. She can't destroy both."

The butler tried to sit up. I put a hand on his shoulder, easing him back down.

"Don't move too much. We need people to think you're still unconscious."

"But she'll come back—"

"She will." I pulled out my phone. "That's why I'm getting you protection."

My fingers flew across the screen. Encrypted messaging app. The one Silas had insisted I download.

Plan successful. Emilia took the bait. She tried to poison the butler with suffocation vine—same as Evelyn. I have samples secured. Need security on his room immediately. She'll try again.

I hit send. The message disappeared into the ether.

Three dots appeared almost instantly. Silas was typing.

Gavin's on his way. Five minutes. Don't let anyone else in that room.

I showed the butler the screen. "Help is coming."

He slumped back against the pillows. His hands were still shaking. "What do I do when she returns?"

"Stay unconscious. Don't react to anything she says or does." I squeezed his hand. "I'll be here. And Gavin will post guards outside. She won't get another chance."

Moby crawled down my arm and onto the bed. He patted the butler's hand with one tiny tentacle. The gesture was so gentle, so unexpectedly sweet, that the old man's eyes actually welled up.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Both of you."

I pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. My legs felt weak. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, leaving behind a cold, hollow feeling in my chest.

But this time was different. This time I had evidence. Physical, testable, undeniable evidence.

My phone buzzed.

Guards in position. Gavin's outside the door. You did good.

I read the message twice. Let Silas's words sink in.

Then I looked up at the window. The manor stretched out below, dark except for scattered lights in windows. Somewhere in that building, Emilia was probably pacing her room. Planning her next move.

But this time, we were ready.

This time, she'd walked right into our trap. And this time, I had proof she couldn't destroy.

I leaned back in the chair and felt the weight of the vial in my pocket. Solid. Real.

Now we wait, I thought. And see what she does next.