⚠️Warning

This chapter contains themes of poisoning and attempted murder. Reader discretion advised.

Days passed, and Serelith celebrated her ninth birthday while Celene turned seven. The two sisters, once distant, began to grow closer, their bond slowly mending with time. Elric remained busy with his duties, rarely around to intervene, and Marlena had moved to the Dower house, leaving the girls to find comfort in each other’s company. Though their relationship was still fragile, small moments of laughter and shared secrets hinted at a hopeful future. The mansion , vast and cold, seemed a little warmer whenever the sisters were near. Change was subtle, but it was there.

Serelith took it upon herself to help Celene with her etiquette lessons, patiently guiding her through the proper ways to address nobles and navigate courtly manners. Though still young, Celene showed eagerness to learn, often practicing under Serelith’s watchful eye. Their shared moments of instruction brought them closer, breaking down old walls between the sisters.

Tharald observed this quietly but approvingly. He didn’t seem to mind their growing bond; in fact, he was pleased. It eased his worries about their upbringing in the vast mansion , where loneliness could take root easily. Watching the two girls find companionship in one another lifted his spirits. For the first time in a long while, the household felt a little more like a family. Serelith’s gentle guidance and Celene’s willingness to learn sparked a fragile but hopeful harmony.

But one thing still worried Tharald—if Marlena returned, everything might revert to how it was before. He knew Celene wasn’t to blame for the past troubles. She was just a child, innocent in many ways. The true responsibility lay with her mother, whose actions had shaped much of Celene’s behavior. Tharald hoped the peace between the sisters would hold, but the thought of Marlena’s return cast a shadow over his hopes. Despite this, he remained determined to protect the fragile harmony they had built, praying that time and patience would be enough to keep the family from falling apart again.

Elric seemed unconcerned, as long as Serelith didn’t interfere with Marlena or stand in his way. He cared little for the growing bond between the sisters, focused only on maintaining his own control. For him, peace meant keeping Serelith out of Marlena’s path at all costs.

A few months later, Marlena was preparing to leave the Dower house. The night before her departure, her elder sister arrived unannounced, her eyes cold and calculating. She pulled Marlena aside into a shadowed corner of the chamber and whispered, “You must kill the old man.”

Marlena’s breath caught. “What? How?”

Her sister pressed a small vial into her hand. “Poison. I’ve heard rumors—those girls, Serelith and Celene, have grown close. That cannot be allowed.”

Marlena hesitated. “But what if I get caught?”

Her sister’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “It will look like a weary heart finally giving up,” Marlena’s sister whispered. “He survived the carriage and the blade, but he cannot survive his own blood.”

Marlena’s eyes widened, dilated with a mix of fear and determination. The weight of the vial in her palm was heavier than she expected.

Serelith had spent months teaching Celene how to hold a tea cup without trembling. They had shared a secret stash of honey biscuits in the garden. But the moment Marlena stepped back through the gates, Celene wouldn't even look Serelith in the eye.

One evening, Marlena confronted Celene quietly. “Have you done something wrong?” she asked, her voice low and sharp.

Celene shook her head quickly, “No, Mother. I didn’t do anything.”

Days slipped by in silence. Behind closed doors, Marlena ordered her maids to lace Tharald’s food with the poison. They obeyed without question, slipping the deadly substance into his meals with practiced ease.

At first, Tharald’s health seemed unchanged, but slowly, imperceptibly, he began to weaken. No one suspected foul play. Even Elric remained oblivious, too consumed by his own ambitions and concerns to notice the subtle decline.

Celene remained in the dark as well, unaware that her grandfather’s condition was the result of her mother’s hidden cruelty. Serelith, despite her sharp senses, could not uncover the truth either. The estate whispered with secrets, but this one stayed buried deep.

As the weeks passed, Tharald’s strength diminished. His once-bright eyes dulled, and the energy that had carried him through the burdens of leadership faded into a fragile shadow. Yet Marlena’s facade remained flawless—concerned, attentive, a grieving wife to all who saw her.

Elric noticed the change but attributed it to age and stress. “Father is tired,” he would say, “nothing more.”

Meanwhile, the sisters drifted further apart. Celene, caught between fear and loyalty, walked the tightrope of her mother’s expectations. Serelith, sensing the growing tension, kept her distance, her heart heavy with unspoken worry.

Marlena watched them all with cold eyes, her plan unfolding perfectly. The mansion was hers to command, once the old man was gone. And soon, nothing would stand in her way.