Chapter 323 - Old chidings
The occasional rustle of paper and the soft clink of metal on porcelain echoed through the otherwise silent dining hall of Freybrook mansion, the faint aroma of ink mingling with the lingering scent of freshly baked bread and tea.
Scarlett sat at the head of the long table, a meticulously arranged plate of half-eaten poached eggs, bread, and soup before her. To her right loomed a tall, chaotic-yet-ordered stack of parchment — letters from nobles and merchants, correspondence from the Rising Isle and other important factions, along with a sizable number of the reports and documents she had intended to address the previous evening.
Standing discreetly by the wall, Garside maintained his usual composed presence. The old butler barely moved, his stillness a study in patience as he waited on Scarlett. The others who had joined her for breakfast had since excused themselves, leaving her alone with her work.
She let out a muted sigh as she set down a report. It would have been nice if she’d handled these yesterday, but her unexpected confrontation with Arnaud Astrey had disrupted her schedule and left her thoughts scattered.
The man had departed shortly after their exchange, though not before enduring a sharp scolding from his ‘darling’ daughter. Deservedly so, in Scarlett’s opinion. She hadn’t been above adding a few pointed truths of her own regarding their ‘dispute’, which likely contributed to the dismayed expression Arnaud wore as Allyssa yelled at him.
Petty? Undoubtedly. But that was her way of getting back at people. Although it wasn’t quite as satisfying seeing Allyssa try to apologise repeatedly for her father’s behaviour.
Scarlett took a spoonful of soup, then reached for a letter. After skimming its contents, she set it aside. “Garside,” she called, noting the butler’s subtle shift in posture from the corner of her eye. “I will draft a letter for Dean Godwin of Elystead Tower later. Ensure that it is sent to him.”
She needed to question him about Yamina Ward — what he knew of her supposed divinations, her current whereabouts, and any ties she might have to Beld Thylelion or Arnaud Astrey.
“Certainly, My Lady,” Garside replied smoothly, inclining his head.
Scarlett gave a slight nod at his reliability, her thoughts already shifting. She reached for the next letter but paused when her gaze landed on a glimmer of red-black among the papers — a polished stone perched atop a stack. It could easily be mistaken for a paperweight, but she doubted that was its true purpose. It was an invite of sorts, if her suspicions were correct.
She had found it earlier this morning, not long after waking up. Not within the mansion itself—there likely weren’t many short of The Gentleman or Empress who could intrude so casually—but just outside its grounds, where the Loci had detected its presence and alerted her. After confirming it posed no danger, she had brought it inside.
At first, the stone’s faint magical resonance had triggered an aggressive response from the Loci, but the energy had since faded. Now, it seemed little more than an ordinary object. Still, Scarlett was reasonably certain she knew who had left it.