The night air was crisp as Evelyn Ravencourt stood alone on the estate's balcony, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her untouched wine glass. Inside, the ballroom was still filled with murmurs of the evening's chaos. The attack on Duke Valmore's shipment had sent ripples through the noble circles, and she had been the first to sense a hidden hand behind it all.
She took a slow breath, recalling Edgar Whitmore's nervous confession.
"Duke Valmore's shipment… my father secured a deal."
That wasn't a warning. It was a calculated message.
Someone knew this would happen. Someone wanted her to know.
Her violet eyes darkened. Who are you?
The First Clue
A shadow flickered in the corner of her vision.
She turned her head slightly. "You've been watching me for quite some time now."
A chuckle came from the darkness. A figure stepped forward, revealing Cyril Marchand, an informant who worked within the underbelly of high society.
"Well, Lady Evelyn," Cyril said, adjusting his gloves. "It's rare to see you look so troubled. I thought I might enjoy the sight for a bit longer."
She scoffed. "You deal in information. Do you know who orchestrated tonight's… event?"
Cyril's smirk twitched. "If I did, do you think I'd just hand it to you for free?"
Evelyn sighed. "Then let's not waste time. What do you want?"
The informant's eyes gleamed. "A name for a name."
Evelyn studied him carefully. She had played this game before.
After a pause, she spoke. "Lord Edwin Castor is planning to bribe the Minister of Trade before the next council meeting."
Cyril grinned. "Oh, now that's valuable. Fine, I'll give you something in return."
He leaned in. "A ghost has returned to the capital."
Evelyn's grip tightened on her glass. "A ghost?"
"The kind that should have never come back." His tone lowered. "Someone from the past, moving unseen, unraveling power structures right under the nobility's noses."
He stepped back. "I don't know his name. Not yet. But his movements are precise, as if he's weaving a web around his enemies."
Evelyn exhaled slowly. "Then I'll have to find him before he finds me."
Cyril laughed. "Oh, Lady Evelyn. I think he already has."
A Silent Observer
From across the estate gardens, Lucien watched the exchange with calm amusement.
Evelyn had taken the bait. She was searching now, unknowingly walking the very path he had prepared for her.
He leaned against the iron railing, eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"You're smart, Lady Evelyn. But how far will your intelligence take you in a game you don't even realize you've already lost?"
The night continued, and so did the unseen war.
End of Chapter 5