The candlelight flickered between us, casting shadows over Julian's sharp features. He hadn't spoken for a while, just idly flipping through the ledger, though I knew he wasn't truly reading it. His silence was pointed, and I knew better than to ignore it.

I had called him recently to my study, which Rosaria hardly ever used, to take a look at what I had collected from the servants of the household affairs.

He was only 14, but was sharp for his age. A pity he had to die so young, but I wasn't going to let that happen to him this time. Practically a financial and military genius, I knew he was perfectly capable of helping me root out the corruption in this household. I just had to get him to trust me first.

"Go on," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Ask whatever it is you've been holding back."

Julian closed the book with a soft thud. His gaze flicked to mine, sharp and assessing. "You're different."

I gave a short laugh. "I should hope so. Near-death experiences tend to change people."

"Change them, sure. But you're not just different—you're... like an entirely new person." He tilted his head, scrutinizing me. "I've been watching you. You're playing some kind of game, but I can't tell what it is."

I sighed, folding my hands together. "I'm not playing anything, Julian. I just..." I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "I've been blind for years. I let people control me. I let my temper and my pride ruin my reputation, ruin our family's standing. After the accident, I saw things more clearly."

Julian leaned forward, his dark eyes searching mine. "So, what? You just woke up one day and decided to be better?"

"Not better," I corrected. "Smarter."

He hummed in consideration, but I could tell he wasn't satisfied.

I sighed, tapping my fingers against the table. "Look, I know I haven't been the easiest sister to have. I was... cruel. And blind. But I want to fix things. I want to fix us."

For a moment, Julian didn't speak. Then, finally, he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You were insufferable," he admitted. "But you were still my sister."

I smiled slightly. "And now?"

He studied me, then let out a dry chuckle. "Now, I have no idea who you are."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Look, Julian. I know I've hurt you, but please, let's start over. I'm going to need your help if we're going to weed out the riffraff."

Julian raised an eyebrow. "You're actually asking for my help?"

I shrugged. "Why not? You're one of the only people I trust. And, honestly? You're probably better at this kind of thing than I am."

He scoffed. "That's not exactly a high bar."

I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched into a smile. "Julian."

He held my gaze for a long moment before sighing. "Fine. I'll help." He tapped the ledger. "But don't think I'm going to stop watching you. Whatever game you're playing, I'll figure it out."

I smirked. "I'd expect nothing less."

For the first time in a long while, the weight between us felt lighter. We weren't completely restored—not yet. But we were getting there. And that was enough.

We turned to address the other elephant in the room, the thick stack of estate records on my desk. Julian idly twirled a quill between his fingers.

"It's going to take me a few days to figure this out. There's a lot here," he said.

"That's fine, take as much time as you need. In the meantime, I'll poke around and see what I can find. Fathers been passive for so long, they're not expecting anything. They're sloppy. So it'll be easy to find out who's been loyal and whose not.." I said with a pointed expression.

Julian took the ledgers with him that night, murmuring something about needing absolute silence to make sense of the mess. I didn't argue. If there was anyone meticulous enough to unravel years of financial discrepancies, it was him. That left me with time to conduct my own observations.

The next morning, as Father departed on his business trip with barely a day to rest from returning from the capital, I began my investigation.

The estate had functioned smoothly in our absence—or so Clara and the others would have me believe. But perfection was a lie, and I had spent enough time in court to recognize a polished surface hiding a rotten core.

I started my morning in the servant's corridors, a part of the estate I had rarely visited before. Most noble ladies wouldn't bother, but I wasn't most noble ladies.

The kitchen was my first stop. It was bustling with activity, but the moment I stepped inside, everything slowed. Servants bowed hastily, eyes darting away. Some flinched outright.

I frowned. Did they fear me? Or did they fear being caught?

"Carry on," I said smoothly, moving to inspect the storerooms.

Everything looked well-stocked at first glance, but as I looked closer, I noticed small inconsistencies—flour barrels half-empty when the records said they were full, bottles of expensive wine unaccounted for. Petty theft? Or something larger?

A timid kitchen maid, barely fifteen, hovered nearby. I turned to her with a small, reassuring smile. "Your name?"

She swallowed hard. "E-Edith, my lady."

"Edith," I repeated warmly. "Tell me, have there been any unusual deliveries lately?"

She hesitated, shifting from foot to foot. "No, my lady... but sometimes the supply carts come lighter than expected."

Lighter than expected. That meant someone was skimming before the goods even reached the estate.

As I began my evaluation of the household staff, I started small. Quiet questions. Subtle glances. Letting them feel my presence without fully revealing my intentions.

The household staff had operated without scrutiny for years. That made them bold. But bold people made mistakes. And my constant questioning was starting to make them uncomfortable.

IMy first target was Madame Clara, the head housekeeper. She was an aging woman, dignified in her manner, with a sharp tongue and an even sharper memory. Nothing happened in the estate without her knowing.

Which meant she either knew about the missing supplies and allowed it... or she was part of it.

I found her in the linen room, overseeing a few maids folding sheets. She looked up, startled, when I entered. "Lady Rosaria! How unexpected."

I smiled. "Madame Clara. I was hoping you could help me make sense of something."

She smoothed out a crease in the fabric, hiding her wariness behind the practiced ease of an experienced servant. "Of course, my lady."

I let the silence stretch as I walked along the shelves, trailing my fingers over the neatly folded linens. Then, as if in idle curiosity, I said, "I noticed our recent supply deliveries have been... inconsistent."

Madame Clara stilled for half a second. "Oh?" she said smoothly, resuming her work. "I wasn't aware of any issues, my lady."

A lie. A polite one, but a lie nonetheless.

I turned to face her fully. "Are you certain? I'd hate to think that someone has been mismanaging the estate's resources. It would be terribly disappointing."

One of the younger maids flinched. Madame Constance, to her credit, kept her composure. "I assure you, my lady, the accounts are all in order." Another lie.

I tilted my head, pretending to consider her words. Then, in a voice just loud enough for the nearby maids to hear, I mused, "I suppose I'll have to verify them myself. After all, I am the Lady of this household. I of all people should know what's going on in our walls."

The tension in the room shifted. Madame Clara's  lips pressed together. The younger maid avoided my gaze entirely.

I stepped forward, lowering my voice just enough to make it personal. "If there's been a misunderstanding, I trust you'll clear it up before I have to. Won't you, Madame Clara?"

A long pause. Then, finally, she dipped her head. "Of course, my lady."

I smiled, pleasant as ever. "Excellent."

By the time I left the linen room, whispers were already spreading. The staff would know, by nightfall, that I was watching. That I wasn't the same fool they had manipulated for years.

My next stop was the knightage. They were a different problem altogether. My father, bless him, was far too trusting. The men meant to guard our lands and maintain order had become complacent, their drills sluggish, their discipline nonexistent.

When I arrived at the training grounds, I found a handful of men sparring lazily while others loitered, chatting idly. At the sight of me, they snapped to attention, but not before I caught the look of barely concealed amusement in some of their eyes.

One of the higher-ranking knights, Sir Aldric, approached with a stiff bow. "Lady Rosaria. To what do we owe the honor?"

His tone was polite, but the way he stood—relaxed, unbothered—told me he thought little of my presence.

"I was simply curious about the state of my father's forces," I said with a pleasant smile. "It seems... lacking."

Aldric's jaw twitched, but he forced a grin. "The Duke has never required a strong military presence. We are a peaceful territory, my lady."

I stepped closer, voice low. "That peace will not last forever."

His brow furrowed slightly, as if the thought had never crossed his mind.

I clasped my hands behind my back, surveying the men. "Let's make something clear, Sir Aldric. This estate is a jewel of our territory. That makes it a target—one that, in its current state, could easily be plucked." My eyes met his, unwavering. "Do you disagree?"

Aldric hesitated. Then, reluctantly, he bowed his head. "No, my lady."

"Good." I let the silence stretch just long enough for discomfort to settle. "I expect to see improvements soon."

If I wanted us to be prepared to face the Shadow Walkers, we were going to need some strong knights. I'll have to find someone to replace him, I thought of the passive sir Aldrich. Someone who can whip those knights into shape.

Between the missing supplies, the complacent knights, and Julian's deep dive into the financials, one thing was clear—corruption ran deeper than I had imagined.

The younger maid—Edith, if I remembered correctly—had flinched at my words earlier. A small reaction, but telling. Fear meant knowledge. And knowledge meant leverage.

I waited until later that evening, when the halls were quieter, before making my move. Edith had kitchen duties, scrubbing pots at the back of the scullery. The other servants were preoccupied, giving me the perfect opportunity.

I stepped inside, my presence going unnoticed at first beneath the clatter of dishes. Then she turned, caught sight of me, and nearly dropped the plate in her hands.

"M-My lady!" she stammered, hurriedly wiping her hands on her apron.

I gestured for her to remain as she was. "Edith, isn't it?"

She nodded, clearly unsure whether to curtsy or run.

I let the silence stretch, watching her shift uncomfortably. "You seemed... troubled earlier, when I spoke with you. Do you know why that might be?"

Her grip tightened on the plate. "I—I don't know what you mean, my lady."

I stepped closer, lowering my voice just enough to make it feel like a secret between us. "Edith, I'm not looking to punish anyone." A partial truth. "I only want to understand what's been happening. If you tell me now, I can help."

She hesitated, torn between fear and the instinct to confess.

I tilted my head, my tone turning ever so slightly sharper. "But if I have to find out on my own, I won't be nearly as kind."

Edith paled. Her hands trembled. "I—I only overheard things, my lady. I swear it!"

Interesting. I folded my arms. "Go on."

She swallowed hard, glancing around as if someone might be listening. Then, in a whisper, she said, "The deliveries... some of them don't go to the storerooms like they should. I don't know where they end up, but—"

"But?" I prompted.

She lowered her voice even further. "Madame Clara always tells us not to ask questions. And sometimes, when the carts come in, she sends a few footmen out with crates... toward the old storage houses at the edge of the estate."

The old storage houses? Those hadn't been used in years. Why would supplies be sent there?

This wasn't just petty theft. Someone was siphoning estate resources somewhere, and I intended to find out where.

I smiled, reaching out to pat Edith's shoulder lightly. She stiffened. "You've been very helpful, Edith."

She looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but here. "I—"

"Not a word of this to anyone," I murmured. "You wouldn't want to get caught up in something unpleasant, would you?"

She shook her head quickly. "No, my lady."