The moment Viscount Halridge entered the drawing room, I did the responsible thing and left.
Sort of.
I closed the door behind me and walked twenty steps down the hall, leaned against a column, and pretended to admire a vase. I wasn't about to eavesdrop. Not really. But I wasn't going far either. Seraphine was technically still my client, and the last noble she interacted with ended up with a pen through the skull.
Call it professional caution.
---
Inside the room, Seraphine waited until the door clicked shut. She didn't bother offering the Viscount a seat. He didn't take one either.
"Quite the evening," Halridge said first, his voice smooth and casual, like he wasn't surrounded by hysteria and bloodstains.
Seraphine folded her hands behind her back. "That's one word for it."
"You prefer another?"
She tilted her head slightly. "Calculated."
"Mm." He smiled faintly. "I always appreciated your honesty."
"Then let's not waste time. You didn't come here to dance or drink wine. And your reaction to Lady Ilennia's death was... restrained."
"She was murdered with a pen," he said lightly, as if pointing out the weather. "Frankly, I was impressed."
"You knew her?"
"I knew of her," he replied. "Everyone did, eventually. She collected secrets like people collect porcelain dogs. Except hers barked when no one was looking."
Seraphine studied him closely. "You're not surprised she ended up dead."
"Surprise would be if she lived to old age. No one lives that long with the kind of skeletons she kept."
"But she was useful. People like you tend to keep useful people alive."
Viscount Halridge's lips curled into something between a grin and a grimace. "Only when they stay predictable. Ilennia stopped being that months ago."
That caught Seraphine's attention.
"You're saying you anticipated this?"
"I'm saying," he said, stepping closer, "that I didn't come to the Starcrest Gala for wine and networking. I came because I had a feeling she wouldn't make it to the second toast."
"And now you're here, having a private meeting with the daughter of the Vale house, while the halls are crawling with suspects."
He looked amused. "You say that like I planned it."
"Didn't you?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned, walking slowly toward the hearth. The fire crackled softly, casting flickers of light across his white, smooth skin and sharply angled face. He had a wiry build, tight with muscle but not showy. His dark hair was cropped close, the kind that never looked messy. His blue eyes reflected the flames like still water.
Seraphine waited.
"She was onto something," he said finally. "Ilennia. Something bigger than her usual gossip circuit. She'd been collecting information on a new movement—a shadow network forming beneath the capital. Quiet. Ambitious."
"You think that's what got her killed?"
"I think," he said, turning back, "that she poked something she didn't understand. And it poked back."
Seraphine frowned. "Why tell me this?"
"Because I trust you'll know what to do with it."
"That's generous."
"Hardly. It's insurance."
"Against what?"
"Whatever happens next."
The room went quiet.
He stepped closer again, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Tell me, Seraphine. Where were you when the lights flickered?"
She didn't answer.
"You're not a suspect," he continued. "At least, not an official one. But you're not exactly a bystander either. People are watching you. Closely."
"Let them watch."
"Careful. That kind of defiance gets mistaken for guilt. And nobles don't need proof when they're scared. They need a name to throw into the fire."
"You offering mine?"
He gave a dry chuckle. "Please. If I were going to implicate someone, I'd choose someone boring. You're far too entertaining."
She finally moved, stepping to a side table to pour herself a glass of water. "So what do you want, Halridge?"
"Simple. A name."
She looked at him over the rim of her glass. "You think I know who did it?"
"No. But I think you'll find out before anyone else does. And when you do, I want to know."
"And what makes you think I'll share?"
He stepped toward the door, hand resting on the knob. "Because we both want the same thing."
"Which is?"
He looked back, expression sharp.
"To make sure whoever's behind this knows they just declared war on the wrong people."
He opened the door.
Then paused.
"And Seraphine?"
"Yes?"
"Be careful with your shadow."
She blinked. "What?"
But he was already stepping into the hall.
As he passed me, he glanced my way.
"You'll want to stay alert, Caspian," he said quietly.
"Why's that?" I asked.
"Because the first move was a warning."
He walked off without another word.
Cool. Grim. Predictable.
And now I had to figure out if he was being dramatic… or dead serious.
---