Chapter 207: The Pieces [2]
For a moment, the weight of her fury pressed against me, daring me to flinch.
I didn’t.
Why would I? The board was mine. The pieces were already moving exactly where I wanted them.
Emma’s glare lingered, promising that this game between us wasn’t over. But for now—here, in this hall where strength ruled and Alice’s shadow stretched long across the stone floor—she could do nothing.
The air settled just enough for words to slip through again, but the tension was still a blade at my throat. Alice’s sword remained half-raised, its faint magical glow painting thin streaks of blue across Emma’s cheek.
Emma broke the silence first. Of course she did. She was too proud to cower for long.
"Lady Draken," she said, her fan lowering with deliberate grace, "you’ve made your point. But drawing a blade on a guest of the Voss? That is... quite the statement."
Alice didn’t so much as twitch. "A guest does not seize what is mine."
The simplicity of her answer struck harder than any elaborate threat. Emma’s eyes narrowed to slits, but she hid the flicker of irritation behind a small, polished smile.
"You guard your people as fiercely as your territory," Emma murmured. "Perhaps that is why the North remains... untamed."
I bit back a smirk. A provocation dressed as a compliment. Typical Voss.
Alice tilted her head slightly, strands of silver-blonde hair catching the lamplight like frost. "The North requires more than pretty manners to survive, Lady Voss. We defend what belongs to us."
Emma’s fan snapped open again with a soft whuff, a shield of lacquer and silk. "And yet, even in the untamed North, alliances matter. You seek information about a thief that has plagued my family for decades. Do you think alienating us will help your cause?"
My gaze slid between them, savoring the delicate dance—Alice’s icy dominance against Emma’s calculated diplomacy. Two predators circling, neither willing to retreat but both aware that outright war would cost them more than they were willing to pay.
Alice finally lowered her metaphorical blade, though the motion carried no warmth.
"I requested information, not permission," she said evenly, each word sharpened to a point. "Our deal remains intact. But remember this, Lady Voss—my allies are chosen, not imposed."
For the briefest moment, something flickered across Emma’s eyes—admiration, irritation, perhaps a mix of both—before she hid it behind another immaculate, courtly smile.
"I’ll apologize personally later," Emma replied smoothly. "For now, what matters is taking the next step."
Alice’s cold gaze narrowed.
"The next step? Be careful how you phrase that. The Duke of Voss may act boldly, but even he should think twice before picking a quarrel with another ducal house. The man you suspect is my family’s retainer. He is not someone you can treat as a common criminal."
It was a statement that landed like a hammer. For Emma, who had come north as a guest to celebrate Alice’s birthday, it was a point nearly impossible to counter without insulting her host.
Yet Emma Voss was not easily rattled. She drew in a measured breath and tilted her fan just enough to hide a knowing smile.
"Lady Draken, fraud is rarely the work of distant strangers. It is often committed by those closest to us—those we trust the most. This person is undoubtedly the same Faceless Imposter that you were looking."
The accusation hung in the air like a drawn bowstring.
"I swear," I said, stepping forward before Alice could speak, "I have been nothing but loyal to Lady Draken. I have never once entertained betrayal. To accuse me of being the Faceless Imposter, even as a jest, is reckless—especially coming from Lady Voss."
Emma’s eyes slid toward me, sharp and appraising. Her fan lowered a fraction, as if to gauge the tremor in my voice.
Inside, I smirked.
Fraud?
What a convenient word for those too small-minded to grasp the truth.
Fraud implies trickery, deception, a single false face. I carry more than one identity, yes—but each of them is as real as the next.
Beside me, Amelia’s brows knit in quiet disapproval, her pink eyes flicking from Emma to me with a disgusted glint. She knew enough of my secrets to find the exchange distasteful, but not enough to expose me.
I met her gaze and held it, refusing to flinch. Let them suspect. Let them whisper.
Suspicion is nothing without proof.
And proof is something no one—not even the Voss—would ever find.
The silence after my words was deafening. The kind that stretched like a taut wire, humming with the threat of breaking.
Emma’s fan stopped mid-motion. Her eyes—cool, predatory—locked onto mine. For a moment, there was no Emma Voss the noble lady, only the hunter whose reputation for tracking criminals spanned the Empire.
I let her stare. I even tilted my head slightly, the picture of calm obedience.
The perfect servant with nothing to hide.
Inside, I savored every second.
"...Bold," she finally said, her voice soft but carrying the weight of a blade drawn across silk.
"For a servant to speak in the presence of two ducal houses. You either have nothing to fear... or you think you are clever enough to hide everything."
A faint tremor passed through Amelia, standing at Alice’s side. Her hand twitched toward her sleeve—toward the concealed dagger I knew she kept there. Her loyalty to Alice burned so brightly it was almost amusing.
Alice, however, didn’t flinch. She didn’t need to. Her eyes were icy steel as they met Emma’s.
"My servant speaks because I allow it. Your suspicion is wasted breath. If you have proof, present it. If not, I suggest you remember whose house you stand in."
The room seemed to tighten around her words, the air sharpening like frost. Emma’s jaw tensed ever so slightly, a single muscle betraying the frustration behind her polished mask.
Then—
click.
Her fan snapped shut with a crisp finality. "Very well," Emma said, a smile flickering across her lips that didn’t reach her eyes. "I have proof.... after all evidences doesn’t lie, do they?"