Chapter 97 The House of Glass
The rain had eased by the time Cassandra and the others reached the capital, but the sky still held a heavy gray haze that made the city feel colder than it was. The streets glistened with the night’s downpour, and the lamps cast pale reflections across the puddles. Carriages rattled past with a hurried rhythm, as if the city itself sensed the tension their arrival carried. Cassandra tightened her shawl as she stepped out of the carriage, watching her breath rise in the morning air. The child slept against her shoulder, unaware of the dangers that gathered like clouds.
The townhouse that awaited them stood on a narrow street just two blocks from Parliament Square. It belonged to Sir Walter Ainsworth, a reform-minded member of Parliament who had supported investigative hearings against the coastal surrogacy networks years before. He greeted them with weary eyes and a voice softened by caution rather than relief. His spectacles were slightly askew, and his coat looked hastily buttoned, as if he had rushed from bed the moment he heard they were coming.
“Inside,” Sir Walter urged. “We must speak before the press gathers in greater numbers. They already sense something is unfolding.”
Cassandra followed him through the tall doorway. The townhouse was bright and elegant, with high ceilings and a wall of windows that overlooked the street. It felt open in a way she did not expect. Damian walked behind her with a protective stride, his attention fixed on every shadow. Elias and Harlan carried the crates of recovered documents. Rowan followed closely, keeping the rescued child in his arms.
As the door shut behind them, the outside noise muffled into a low hum. Cassandra exhaled slowly. For a brief moment, the house seemed to promise safety. But the windows told a different story. Through the glass, she saw two journalists already loitering across the street, their notebooks ready. Others would come soon. Rumors traveled quickly in the capital, especially when scandals touched the wealthy.
Sir Walter led them to a large sitting room furnished with velvet chairs and shelves filled with political reports. A pot of tea waited on the table, though no one seemed in the mood for comfort. He gestured for them to sit.
“You arrive at a difficult hour,” he said. “Victoria’s allies have been busy. The press printed rumors of forged inheritances this morning. Half are outrageous lies. The other half reflect truths that you have been uncovering. Once Parliament senses the threat to certain families, the political pressure will multiply.”
Cassandra placed the sleeping child in Rowan’s arms and leaned forward. “We came because Victoria is preparing a final auction in the capital. We have proof. Most of it survived the attack.”
Harlan set a crate on the table and opened the lid. Folders, ledgers, and letters spilled across the surface. Sir Walter looked over the nearest sheet, blinking through his spectacles.
“This is more than I expected,” he murmured. “These signatures are genuine. These contracts alone could pull down entire clans.”
Lira stepped forward. “Victoria plans to intimidate the clans that have not aligned with her. She hopes to win their loyalty through threats and blackmail. If she succeeds, she will control the Ministry of Trade, the coastal councils, and every port from here to Garradon.”
Sir Walter’s mouth tightened. “That aligns with what I learned yesterday. Someone has been leaking forged inheritance records from inside the Ministry itself. The officials believe the documents are genuine because they appear identical to government copies.”
Cassandra felt a cold reaction settle in her stomach. “Who is leaking them?”
“I am not yet certain,” Sir Walter replied. “But I know this. Victoria has at least one agent inside the Ministry, maybe more.”
Elias, who had been standing near the window, turned sharply toward them. “We cannot let this spread. If the public sees these forgeries before we present the truth, our evidence will be dismissed as retaliation.”
Sir Walter nodded. “Which is why you must move carefully. Any misstep will be used against you.”
Cassandra stood and crossed the room to the wide windows. The glass stretched from knee height to the ceiling, letting the pale morning light spill across the floor. Outside, three more journalists had arrived. Two spoke quietly as they reviewed notes. A sketch artist tried to capture the townhouse facade. The sight filled Cassandra with a strange mix of fear and determination.
“This house feels like glass,” she said quietly. “Everyone can see us. Every move is watched.”
Damian approached her side and looked through the window as well. “Let them look,” he said. “You have faced worse.”
She did not respond immediately. A memory surfaced of the earlier months when gossip sheets printed her name without mercy, twisting stories to entertain bored households. Her past scandals had been petty compared to what now threatened to spill into the streets. The stakes were higher, and the consequences far heavier. Still, she felt steadier than she once would have. Each challenge had carved a new strength inside her.
Sir Walter cleared his throat. “There is another problem. Victoria is not hiding. She has been meeting with influential families in the city, claiming you are leading a coup to seize control of the inheritance courts. She is crafting herself into a victim in the papers.”
“That woman never stops,” Rowan muttered, shifting the child slightly.
Theo stood close to him and touched the child’s hand gently. “She looks scared,” he said. “But less than before.”
Cassandra looked back at the group. “Victoria relies on fear. Our presence threatens the empire she has built. She will not let us expose her without a fight. We need a plan before she completes her final auction.”
Elias closed the window curtains halfway to reduce visibility. “We should investigate the leak in the Ministry. If Victoria has someone inside the Trade office, she can manipulate shipping records, birth registries, and even property transfers. She could undermine us even if we win public support.”
Lira agreed. “We need a name. Without it, accusations will fall on deaf ears.”
Sir Walter rubbed his forehead. “The Ministry is vast and heavily guarded. There are files, clerks, and inspectors in every corridor. But I have reason to believe the leak comes from inside the Bureau of Maritime Records. It is a smaller department and easier for a single agent to control.”
Cassandra’s eyes sharpened. “Then we start there.”
Before anyone could respond, a loud knock struck the front door. Damian moved quickly, placing a hand on his dagger. Sir Walter raised a calming hand. “It is only the papers. They have been knocking since sunrise.”
Another set of knocks followed, louder and more impatient. Voices rose on the other side, demanding statements. Cassandra stepped back from the window so they would not see her silhouette. Damian checked the lock and reinforced it.
“They will not go away,” Sir Walter said. “They sense the makings of a political storm. If they suspect you are inside, they will remain all day.”
Cassandra’s pulse quickened as she glanced again at the curtain’s edge. She could still see the crowd gathering. More journalists. Some curious citizens. A pair of police officers who watched quietly from across the street. The house had become a public stage, one she had not chosen.
Elias paced the length of the room. “If Victoria pushed stories to the papers before we arrived, she plans to manipulate public opinion. She knows Parliament will respond to the press before they respond to evidence.”
Theo watched Elias with wide eyes. “What if they believe her stories instead of yours?”
Elias crouched beside him. “Then we make them believe the truth,” he said gently. “But we have to be smart.”
Silence settled over the room for a moment. Cassandra’s heartbeat steadied. She had faced high-society scrutiny before, but this was different. This involved lawmakers, clan leaders, investors, and the coastal families who had been exploited for years. This was not about reputation alone. It was about justice.
She sat on the edge of the nearest chair and placed her hands together. “We divide tasks,” she said. “Lira and Elias will go to the Bureau of Maritime Records. They know the documents well enough to recognize forgery from a glance. Sir Walter can issue them temporary permissions to enter the building.”
Sir Walter nodded. “I will prepare the papers.”
Rowan looked between the group and the rescued child. “What about me?”
“You stay here and rest,” Cassandra said. “You have carried more weight than anyone since the cove. The child needs stability for now, and you can give her that.”
Rowan hesitated, then nodded slowly. “All right. But do not leave me out when the time comes to confront Victoria.”
“You will be there,” she promised.
Damian stepped forward. “What about you?”
Cassandra held his gaze. “I go to the newspapers. If Victoria is shaping the story, I must correct it. Not with accusations. With enough truth to steady the public before she launches her final move.”
Damian’s jaw tightened. “They will twist your words.”
“Then I will choose my words carefully.”
Sir Walter tapped his fingers against the table. “The Evening Herald might hear you fairly. The editor dislikes Victoria. But you must not visit alone.”
“I will go with her,” Damian said.
“No,” Sir Walter replied. “People know you by sight. Your history with Cassandra is fodder for scandal sheets. If you appear beside her, the papers will claim she acts under your influence.”
Damian glared. “They will not harm her.”
“They will not need to,” Sir Walter said gently. “All they require is a photograph. One misleading image can do more damage than a dozen lies.”
Cassandra knew he was right. “Damian, stay here and protect the others. I will be careful.”
His jaw clenched, but he did not argue further.
Theo tugged at Cassandra’s sleeve. “Can I help?”
She smiled softly. “You already are. You have seen things adults refused to see. Now stay with Rowan and keep the child company. She trusts you.”
Theo nodded with pride.
Sir Walter looked toward the window again. “The longer you stay, the larger the crowd will grow. We must act soon.”
Cassandra took a steadying breath. Her body still ached from the battle at the cove, and the cut on her side throbbed with each movement, but she pushed the pain aside. She rose from her chair and adjusted her shawl.
“I will go now,” she said.
Damian walked with her to the threshold of the sitting room. His voice was low. “Be cautious. They are hungry for a story.”
She touched his hand lightly. “Then let us give them the right one.”
She followed Sir Walter to the back door, avoiding the front windows completely. As they stepped out into the narrow service alley behind the townhouse, the sounds of the crowd seemed distant. The air was crisp, smelling faintly of chimney smoke and damp stone. A stable boy waited with a modest carriage that would not attract attention. Cassandra climbed inside and looked back at the townhouse.
Through the side window, she could see Damian standing in the hallway, watching her departure with a mix of pride and worry. She lifted a hand, and he returned the gesture.
The carriage began to move.
As they rolled toward the editorial offices of The Evening Herald, Cassandra felt the full weight of the coming hours. Words could change the course of the struggle just as sharply as weapons. Victoria understood that. And now Cassandra would have to match her in the arena of public opinion.
Sir Walter sat across from her. “Once you speak, there will be no turning back,” he said. “The city will know you, not as the woman of whispered scandals, but as a challenger to a powerful empire.”
Cassandra looked toward the foggy street ahead. “Then let them know me clearly.”
Behind them, in the House of Glass, the first of many conflicts had begun.
The windows would not protect them from scrutiny, but they would reveal the truth for all to see.
And now, the city watched.