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### Later that afternoon…
House Morwyn was thrown into chaos.
Lord Rynnic, heir to the House of Westmarch, stormed through the gates.
"Where is that wretched girl, Zyra Morwyn?!" His shout echoed like thunder through the front court. "Get her out here! She owes me blood!"
He was no guest.
He strode straight into the central hall and threw himself into the seat of the House Patriarch, slamming his hand on the table like it belonged to him.
The servants collapsed in rows, too frightened to even breathe.
An elder of the Morwyn family arrived soon after.
Lord Eldric Morwyn, the Third Master of the household. With the true heir absent and the old Duke serving in the royal court, Eldric was the highest authority on the estate for now.
He was frail.
Pale-skinned, blind from birth, and plagued by illness. Though only in his late twenties, he looked over thirty-five. Time and pain had weathered his body beyond its years.
Though time had worn him down, one could still see from his features that Lord Elric Morwyn, the third master of the house, must once have been a striking man. Unfortunately, years of illness and blindness had left his skin sallow and his frame brittle, the life drained from him far too early.
Lord Rynnic scoffed, voice cold and filled with rage. "That filthy girl dared to poison me!"
He had nearly blurted out lust poison, but halfway through, his pride kicked in. That kind of despicable alchemy, too shameful to utter in noble company, was better left vague. So he twisted it into something more ominous: "Poison."
Elric's face turned pale with surprise but quickly regained composure.
"That's impossible."
His voice was gentle, but firm.
"Zyra may lack cultivation, but she's a virtuous child. She doesn't even know the basics of herbalism or toxins. Lord Rynnic, surely this is a misunderstanding?"
Zyra had just arrived at the edge of the hall when she heard her uncle's words.
Her steps slowed.
A rare warmth spread quietly through her chest.
Elric Morwyn was her father's younger brother, her blood uncle, the only one in this entire viper's nest who had ever protected her. Her father had died young. Her mother followed soon after, unable to bear the grief. They'd been alone, but Uncle Elric had done what he could.
Even if he was blind and frail, he stood for her.
She thought of the ancient beasts who had raised her in her past life. They too had been overprotective, smothering her with affection. Just like this.
Rynnic sneered.
"A misunderstanding?" he hissed, dark eyes flashing. "Lord Elric, are you suggesting that I, heir of House Westmarch, lack the wit to judge right from wrong? That I accuse without evidence?"
Elric's face tightened. His head bowed low.
"Your Lordship, I wouldn't dare imply such a thing…"
It was a dangerous accusation. The kind that got people executed for treason. He could not bear it.
He raised his head once more, trying to deflect with logic. "But surely… if this is truly a case of poisoning, we must have evidence. Such a charge carries the weight of death."
"Insolence!" Rynnic roared.
He knew exactly what Elric was doing, stalling to protect his niece. He slammed his hand against the table, splintering it. Shards of carved oak flew.
"I saw it with my own eyes! That wasn't enough for you? Very well! You shield her, you'll answer with her. Men! Arrest Lord Elric!"
"Enough."
The voice was cold, crystalline. It rang through the hall with quiet command.
Everyone turned.
Zyra stepped into the hall.
Her gown was simple, her expression unreadable. The air around her felt cool, like glass touched by moonlight.
She strode forward calmly, her eyes brushing past the soldiers who were already moving toward her uncle.
A blind man, she thought. You'd bully a blind man to prove your honor? How noble of you, Lord Rynnic.
The young lord stood up, face twisting in fury. The image of her, on top of him, the haze of desire, the humiliation of what followed, flashed in his mind.
"You dare show your face, you shameless creature!" he growled.
Zyra tilted her head. "You claim you were poisoned? What kind of poison, may I ask? Can you describe its symptoms?"
Rynnic's face flushed crimson.
He was still bitter. He, the most sought-after bachelor in the kingdom, had lost his virginity, not in a silken palace bed with a noble lady, but in a brothel, and with a woman he despised.
And now she had the gall to pretend innocence?
"Zyra Morwyn, don't you dare feign ignorance!"
But her expression remained still, her pale eyes filled with dispassionate calm. I don't understand what you're talking about, they seemed to say.
Rynnic's fists shook.
For a moment, he looked less like an enraged noble, and more like a jilted bride, one who had been defiled and then discarded.
Then,
"Your Lordship… you've misunderstood."
A soft voice cut in from the crowd.
A girl in pale pink stepped forward and knelt before Rynnic, pressing her forehead to the cold stone floor.
It was Celia Morwyn, Zyra's half-sister.
"I was the one who poisoned you yesterday," she said, voice trembling. "It had nothing to do with my sister."
"It was my wicked plan. The lust poison was purchased by me from the apothecary. I was the one who slipped the toxin into your cup of tea. I beg Your Lordship to punish me,"
Celia Morwyn spoke with utmost sincerity, then knelt thrice with deep bows, each thud echoing across the hall.
Lord Rynnic stared, stunned.
Who was this? he wondered. Why had she suddenly come forward to stir trouble?
And in front of so many witnesses, she had just revealed that he had been struck by lust poison, his reputation utterly shattered. What face had he left to keep?
Celia, seeing Lord Rynnic's silence, quickly lifted her head, her eyes urgent.