The room still carried the faint sting of resin and ash even after Morena left the shutters cracked open, letting the cold air move through.
Adolf had taken Lira’s body before dawn; nothing remained but the memory of her face and the knowledge that betrayal had already rooted itself within the walls.
She washed her hands twice, then her blade, and finally the boards where the jug had spilled. She couldn’t risk having a maid do it, as the news might spread, so she had to take care of the matter herself.
While she tried her best, the scent lingered longer than she would’ve liked in the air, almost like a memory of the death that had taken place within it, the fresh smell of the lime cleaner barely masking it.
Once she was done, she took a long, clean bath, dressing herself in plain black wool and exiting her room. The house was still quiet, the rumors from her father’s incident having only spread further. Servants kept their voices short, glances slid sideways and away, and even the guards’ words were clipped.
Adolf was already waiting, seated at his desk with a ledger open. When she entered, he shut it with a heavy hand and stood. His eyes searched hers once and bowed shortly.
"We’re going to start rooting out all the weeds that have grown."
She said, walking over to his desk and resting a hand on it.
"If there are cracks, I want them showing before nightfall."
He nodded, unsurprised.
"I believe that Rorik could be of use. He’s kept his men tighter than most. If anyone knows how far the council’s fingers have reached, it’ll be him."
"But can he be trusted?"
Morena knew the captain had been with her father for a long time, alongside Adolf; they were two of the oldest people still in the estate, but sometimes being second for too long can cause one to grow ambitions.
While she didn’t think the man she had met in that hall was someone to betray the people he served, she didn’t know him enough to judge him fairly. Adolf, on the other hand, did.
"I believe he can be trusted. He would never do something that goes against his oath to your father, or your mother."
Morena bit her lips for a second as she thought, before finally nodding slowly.
"Alright, send for him."
Not long after, Captain Rorik joined them in the main hall. The doors were barred, the side aisles cleared. He leaned forward on his forearms at the table, his gray-shot hair falling into pale eyes that missed little.
Adolf poured water, but none of them touched it.
"The chapel is the thinnest place, but it’s also the hardest place to look into."
"None of our trusted men move there. Clerks, priests, guards—they all circle it. If we close it outright, it will roar louder than leaving it open."
Morena’s gaze was steady.
"Then we choke it slowly. Lessen the shifts, lower funding, and limit the servants that upkeep it, that way we see who comes barking first."
"Agreed. I’ll move my men tonight. I’ll use the bandits as an excuse to relocate them towards the main wall. The best I can do for now is lower it by 2-3 people. If any of them object or hesitate, we can tell who’s on their payroll."
Adolf’s mouth went tight with approval. Morena leaned back slightly, her voice calm.
"They often have supplies coming in and out; we need to check what those are more carefully."
"I’ll have every cart weighed at the gate."
"Brann and Hark can count twice—once outside, once inside. If something goes missing in between or if something is added, we’ll know whose hands are in it."
"I’ll add some men to escort the wagons myself, people I trust to keep an eye on it. If anyone goes near it, we can tell."
Morena inclined her head.
"He’s very weak-willed. He bends too easily. But that makes him useful—if we hold the rope. Keep him. Feed him false pages. If they surface where they don’t belong, we can use it to our advantage."
Rorik gave her a long look, something measuring in it.
"Cold work for a young heir."
"So is waking to poison in your cup."
She answered without a moment of hesitation. He leaned back at that, and though he said nothing, his silence was enough.
They planned longer, moving from patrols to stores to the smallest details. By the time they left the hall, a quiet game was already in motion.
Morena walked the yard with Adolf at her side, counting crates where all could hear. She paused at the south wall, studying the guards, and made notes in front of them.
She passed Ellor a folded order and saw the way he hid it quickly in his sleeve. She ordered that funding to the chapel would be cut back without giving a reason; she could see the doubt in the eyes of many, but none questioned it.
Rorik kept to the plan as well, shifting men where they would be noticed, moving others where they would not. The estate itself began to shift, every adjustment deliberate.
By the next day, Adolf returned with a small list in his hand. Rorik stood beside him, arms folded.
"Ellor moved your false order just as you expected, my lady. He delivered it to a servant, who then took it to the chapel."
"And Iloni’s clerk came through the east gate during the gap at the chapel."
"Kel saw him. The boy kept his mouth shut."
"One more. Brann took bread from the store. Said he was hungry."
Adolf shook his head.
"No. Just hunger. A habit."
"Then let him eat where we can see him; a few pieces of bread isn’t an issue, just don’t make it a bigger problem."
She ordered for the servant who had delivered the letter to be followed and watch in secret as well, monitoring their movement for anything that stood out, or that could be used.
The house eased back into a rhythm, but it was one that was different from before. Morena returned to her chamber and had just set some books aside when her door opened.
Alina slipped in without knocking, braid loose, eyes sharp from training. She closed the door and leaned against it, arms crossed.
"What have you been doing?"
She questioned, or rather, she asked, knowing that something was happening but not why.
"I don’t know what you’re referring to, Alina."
"Don’t try to play dumb with me, I hear whispers too, you know. Brann says the chapel watch vanished. Ina says crates went through the east stair when her boys weren’t allowed to carry them. You’ve been with Adolf recently, and the whole house seems to be moving around. Tell me what’s happening."
"It has been a busy few days."
The word came sharper than she intended. She steadied her voice.
"I’m not a child. I know when the air in this house changes. If there’s danger, don’t you dare keep me out of it."
For a moment, Morena only watched her. Then she reached into her pouch, drew out the stitched scrap of cloth, and set it on the desk.
"A maid tried to kill me a few nights ago."
Alina’s breath caught, her face twisted in shock and then worry.
Her sister’s eyes widened in disbelief.
"She raised me when Father was away. She—"
Morena cut in and walked towards her sister slightly.
"They threatened her sons, or told her they did. She believed them. It ended the way such things end."
Alina gripped her arm so tightly her knuckles blanched.
"No, you already know I can deal with such things."
Relief flickered across Alina’s face, chased quickly by anger.
"Why didn’t you wake me? Or at least tell me about it?"
"Because you’d have come shouting with a lamp."
"I would have come with a knife."
They stared at each other, the silence taut. At last, Alina asked.
"You know how father is. Do you seriously think anyone could harm him in this house? Even injured? But Adolf and Rorik are watching. I am also doing what I need to."
"You stay in the inner halls, do what you’ve always done. You don’t drink anything you didn’t pour. If a messenger asks you for a seal, you send him to Adolf. If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you hide."
"I’m not a bird to be caged. Or someone that needs protecting."
Morena smiled and placed a hand on Alina’s shoulder.
"You’re a fire, one that threatens to burn brightly. But I don’t need bright right now, I need to make quiet moves."
"Let me help at least."
"You help by not splitting my attention in two. When I need you—with a blade or with your smile—I’ll tell you."
Her sister stared hard at her, caught between pride and hurt, then huffed a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh.
Silence stretched. Finally, Alina sighed.
"Fine. I’ll stay out of your way. I’ll also keep my ears open for anything that might help you. But if it happens again, and you don’t tell me—I’ll never forgive you."
Morena’s mouth curved faintly.
"Then train well until then. If you’re still unable to fight even a direwolf by then, maybe I won’t tell you."
Alina stepped forward suddenly and wrapped her arms around her in a fierce hug. Morena was stunned for a second, but slowly hugged her back.
When she pulled back, her eyes were damp, though she straightened as if nothing had happened.
"You can always ask me for help, Morena. Even if you act like you don’t need it."
Morena said nothing, and Alina left her with the silence. Over the next few days, aside from her plans, she also had to keep training.
While she said she wouldn’t die, avoiding death would only be possible if she grew stronger, if she became a proper warrior.