Chapter 85: The Duchess Does Not Forget
Serathine sat in the east drawing room of the D’Argente estate, where sunlight filtered through sheer ivory curtains and touched the floor in narrow golden strokes. A single tea set had been arranged on the low marble table, untouched.
"Madam Wright," she said, without looking up from the thin stack of documents in her lap, "do you know why I called you here today?"
Isabela Wright sat straight-backed in the velvet armchair across from her. She wore conservative grey, a modest brooch at her throat, and her hands were clasped too tightly in her lap to suggest ease.
"I... assumed it was about Lucas," she said carefully.
Serathine lifted her gaze, slow and deliberate. "Lucas D’Argente, yes. My ward. Now, Grand Duchess."
Isabela’s lips parted slightly—whether in surprise or calculation, Serathine didn’t care.
"You were his private language tutor for nearly two years," Serathine continued, turning over the first page. "And yet, in all your monthly updates, not once did you mention the fact that he was being kept out of school registries."
Isabela blinked. "That... wasn’t my place to ask."
"No," Serathine said, closing the file with a snap. "But it was your place to notice."
Silence pressed into the corners of the room like fog.
"He memorized entire lexicons within weeks," Serathine said softly, "yet you continued giving him beginner’s drills and vocabulary lists suitable for a child eight years his junior."
"I—I was following the instructions given by his mother—"