Lucius's eyes lit up as if he'd been waiting for this moment. He clasped his hands together dramatically and said,
"Oh, young master, you won't believe this. It's big—huge, even! I mean, when I uncovered this, I could hardly believe it myself...Someone high up is involved—someone you wouldn't dare to suspect!"
Cassius raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. Then, with a flick of his fingers, he thwacked Lucius lightly on the forehead.
"Stop hyping it up already." He said with a sigh. "Everyone is the same in front of a butcher's knife...Spit it out."
Lucius rubbed his forehead with a pout, muttering something under his breath before straightening up.
"Fine, fine...It's Edmund Chancery."
Cassius's smirk froze, his expression darkening slightly.
"Edmund Chancery?"
Lucius nodded, his tone now serious. "Yes, him. The main attendant to your father. He's not just some servant either—he's the young doctor who earned the patriarch's trust after nursing him back to health during his illness a few years ago. He's practically inseparable from your father now, always at his side...The man has an almost sacred position in this household."
Cassius leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as his mind worked through the implications. "Edmund...The one who's been my father's right hand and personal confidant for years?"
"Exactly." Lucius confirmed. "He's so close to the patriarch that no one would dare question him. That's what makes this so...Dangerous. If it's really him, this isn't just a matter of poisoning you. It could mean something far bigger is at play."
Cassius snorted softly, shaking his head. "You're overthinking it, Lucius. My father isn't involved."
Lucius blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Young master, how can you be so sure?"
"Simple." Cassius said as he admired the paintings on the walls. "My father has no reason to kill me. If he wanted me gone, he would've done it years ago...Why wait this long, and why in his own estate, of all places?" His tone was calm but sharp, slicing through the suggestion like a knife.
Lucius frowned thoughtfully but nodded. "I see your point. Someone like the patriarch wouldn't risk the reputation of the family or stoop to such a sloppy method."
"Exactly." Cassius continued, his voice taking on a faint edge of disdain. "A man like my father would never involve an inexperienced maid or resort to poison. If he wanted me dead, it would be quick, clean, and untraceable. No, this was desperation—an impulsive, half-baked plan. And Edmund…" He trailed off, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "...He reeks of it."
Lucius's frown deepened as he processed this and asked, "Then what could his purpose have been? And how is he connected to the maid?"
Cassius pushed off the wall, brushing a hand through his hair in a nonchalant gesture. "Now that..." He said with an enigmatic smirk. "...Is exactly what we're going to find out."
Lucius's lips curled into a grin, his earlier seriousness fading into the playful admiration he reserved only for his master. "A visit, then?"
"A visit." Cassius confirmed, his voice calm but laced with the promise of retribution.
Lucius's grin widened, his golden retriever-like excitement barely contained. "Oh, this is going to be fun!"
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
The cold night air wrapped around the estate, its biting chill amplified by the eerie silence of the servant quarters.
These quarters, reserved for the most esteemed members of the household staff, resembled miniature houses, each neatly arranged within the sprawling estate.
The faint glow of lanterns illuminated the path as a lone figure, bundled in a scarf that obscured most of her face, moved cautiously among the shadows. Her steps were hurried but deliberate, and her head turned frequently as if ensuring she wasn't being followed.
She stopped in front of one of the houses and knocked lightly on the wooden door. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing a man with sharp features and an air of annoyance etched into his scholarly appearance.
Edmund Chancery, the patriarch's trusted attendant, stood in the doorway. His thinning hair was neatly combed back, giving an almost too-perfect appearance that somehow added to his pompous demeanour.
Round spectacles perched precariously on his long, angular nose, catching the faint light of the lanterns outside. His lips pressed into a thin line as if perpetually irritated, completing the image of a man who radiated intellect but whose presence grated on others.
The maid hesitated for a moment before pulling down her scarf, revealing herself as the same girl who had been interrogated earlier. Her wide, worried blue eyes and furrowed brow betrayed her concern as she looked up at Edmund.
Edmund's expression shifted subtly, his gaze scanning the darkness behind her before stepping aside. "Come in." He said in a clipped tone, his voice low.
The maid glanced around one last time, ensuring no prying eyes were near, and then slipped inside. Edmund quickly shut the door behind her, his movements precise and deliberate.
Edmund barely glanced at the maid before shutting the door, his sharp features twisted into a look of urgency and irritation.
He didn't bother offering her a seat by the modest fire or even a moment to shake off the cold.
Instead, his voice cut through the silence like a blade.
"Why are you here?...Didn't I tell you not to meet me for a while?" He demanded, his tone unfriendly and impatient.
The girl hesitated for the briefest moment, her gaze flickering toward the fire she wasn't welcome near.
Despite her stunning beauty, there was no warmth in Edmund's expression, only a harsh expectation. His indifference stung more than she cared to admit, and a mix of resentment and regret bubbled up inside her.
How ironic, she thought bitterly, that he, the one who dragged her into this wretched situation, now seemed so inconvenienced by her presence.
But she didn't let her emotions show. Straightening her back, she met his gaze with calm resolve. "The young master is onto us.'' She said, her voice steady despite the storm of mixed feelings within her. "He's close to finding out the truth."
Edmund scoffed, waving her words away with a dismissive flick of his hand.
"Bullshit." He snapped, his irritation growing. "That spoilt waste of space?...The third son of the family?...He couldn't find his way out of a unlocked room, let alone uncover something like this."
He let out a sharp, humourless laugh.
"Even if by some miracle he did, what would he do about it? The boy has no spine. He's spent his life cowering behind the Holyfield name, drinking and gambling himself into irrelevance...He wouldn't dare lift a finger against me."
The maid's hands tightened into fists at her sides. His arrogant dismissal grated on her nerves, but she kept her composure.
"He's already called me in for questioning." She said, her voice calm but firm. "And judging by the way his butler looked at me, it's very likely they already know the truth."
For the first time, Edmund's condescending smirk faltered. His brows furrowed, and an edge of fear crept into his otherwise pompous demeanour.
"Impossible!" He muttered, pacing a few steps before turning back to her. "How?...How could they possibly have figured it out?!"
The maid shook her head.
"I don't know." She replied honestly. "But I'm certain of one thing—this isn't just a baseless suspicion...They're onto us, and if we don't act fast, it'll be too late."
Edmund's lips pressed into a thin line as frustration and panic warred within him. He muttered something incoherent under his breath, his mind racing as he tried to piece together how their carefully laid plan had unravelled so quickly.
Edmund froze mid-pace, startled by the maid's voice breaking the tense silence. He turned to her, his scholarly features etched with frustration.
"What is it now?" He asked, his tone sharper than he intended.
The maid, however, was unbothered by his irritation. Her gaze was steady, her voice calm yet tinged with bitterness.
"I still remember the day you approached my parents." She began. "You asked for my hand in marriage, claiming you'd fallen in love with me at first sight."
Edmund scoffed, folding his arms defensively. "And? What of it? That's how these things work. You should consider yourself lucky—most women would dream of an engagement like ours."
She ignored his dismissive tone and continued, her words cutting deeper with every sentence.
"At the time, I wanted to reject the proposal. I wanted to find love on my own terms, build a career, and live my life freely. But my parents..." Her voice faltered for a moment before she pressed on. "...My parents forced me to accept. They told me I'd be a fool to turn down a doctor of your standing, someone with connections to the Holyfield family. I had no choice but to stay silent."
Edmund sneered, his annoyance evident.
"Still clinging to those naive dreams about love and career, are you? How childish. You're engaged to me now—shouldn't that be enough?"
The maid clenched her fists but kept her composure.
"Enough?" She echoed softly. Her voice grew colder as she continued, "I thought that after the engagement, we'd at least talk—get to know one another, discuss our future as a couple. I thought maybe you'd want to spend time together, learn about each other...But no." Her eyes darkened, and her tone turned sharp. "Instead, you came to me privately with a request. Not a kind one. Not a loving one. But something severe—something that had nothing to do with our future and everything to do with your ambitions."
The maid's voice grew colder as her memories resurfaced.
"You asked me to kill the third young master." She said, her tone low but trembling with restrained anger. "Not just any man, but one of the most powerful men in the country."
"...You didn't even care what would happen to me if I got caught, and you threw me into this mess without a second thought for my safety, my life!"