"Faster, Martha! The crystal goblets for Master Elias's table, they still have smudges!"
A stern-faced, older maid, her silver hair pulled back into a severe bun, yelled out instructions, her voice was a low, precise whip that cut through the otherwise muted symphony of clinking silver and rustling silk. Her name was Agnes, and in these lower echelons of the Mirlo household, her authority was law. Her eyes, keen as a sharp kitchen knife, missed nothing.
Martha, a young girl whose uniform already wore faint smudges of polish, hurried past, her arms laden with a stack of gleaming plates that caught the light like polished shields. Her shoulders slumped slightly from exhaustion, the restless night of sirens and shattered glass still echoing in her bones.
Other maids moved with a practiced, almost robotic efficiency. One carefully arranged a sprawling centerpiece of white lilies and crimson roses, their petals unnaturally perfect against the dark wood of the dining table. Another meticulously polished the already gleaming marble floor, her movements fluid and silent, her gaze fixed on the task, avoiding any eye contact.
"Did you hear what happened to Master Adrian?" A whisper, barely audible, floated from a young maid polishing a silver candelabra, her head bowed low.
"Yeah, I heard that he lost the trial, and is getting arrested."
"Serves him right, I heard he cried while getting dragged away".
"Damn I wish I was there to see him. Best case scenario, I hope he gets molested in prison".
"Hush, you two! Not a word," the other hissed, looking nervously towards the grand archway where Agnes was now inspecting a freshly dusted portrait. "We don't want Master Elias to hear us."
The name "Elias" carried a subtle shift in the air. While Adrian's rages were overt and destructive, Elias's calm, unnervingly polite demeanor was far more unsettling. There was a quiet intensity to him, a sense that every smile and every soft word was strangely unnerving.
They moved with an added layer of caution in preparation for his birthday, nervous energy underlying their efficiency.
In the kitchen, the sweet smell of freshly baked pastries wafted through the air, mingled with the sharper scent of roasting meats. A phalanx of kitchen staff, their faces ruddy from the heat, worked in a focused frenzy
"More cream for the cake! And make sure the strawberries are perfect for Master Elias's taste!"
a chef bellowed, gesturing with a flour-dusted hand toward a pyramid of plump, red berries.
The cakes were elaborate, multitiered, miniature architectural marvels, each a testament to meticulous effort destined for a table that had hosted a revelation of murder and familial betrayal. Back in the grand hall, Agnes finally nodded, a flicker of grudging approval in her eyes.
"Good. Almost presentable."
She smoothed the front of her apron, then cast a weary glance towards the enormous clock above the main staircase. It was still early, but the day stretched long, already laden with unspoken anxieties and hidden agendas.
"Remember," she murmured to the nearest maid, her voice losing some of its crispness, "no matter what happens, we maintain the decorum. If we want to remain presentable to Master Elias." There was a resignation in her tone, a silent acknowledgment that their role was to simply uphold the facade, regardless of the rot festering beneath.
Dominic leaned back in a plush velvet chair, one leg crossed casually over the other, observing the preparations with a detached amusement. A half-eaten pastry lay forgotten on the plate before him. His crimson eyes scanned the room, occasionally flickering towards the grand entrance as if expecting a particularly interesting spectacle to walk in.
Edward, by contrast, stood rigidly by a large window, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture as stiff as the starched white tablecloths. His maroon hair, usually falling boyishly over his forehead, was brushed back, making his already wide black eyes seem even more alert, constantly darting from one corner of the room to another. He felt the low thrum of mana from the estate's underlying structures, a subtle vibration that never quite settled.
"You'd think for a birthday party for a kid whose father just got murdered, they'd try to look a little less… festive," Edward muttered, his voice barely audible above the light chatter of the maids.
Dominic chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "Oh, Edward. Stop being a fuckin bore, dude. It's a birthday. And a succession. Two celebrations in one, if you think about it. Besides," he gestured vaguely with a half-eaten grape, "guess this is how they hold a funeral. With colorful balloons and cake."
Edward snorted. "Or to see which one of us slips up next. That butler, Tian… I can't put my finger on it. And that boy as well."
"Elias is a child," Dominic dismissed, rolling his eyes and sticking his tongue out, though his eyes lingered on the very same elegant little boy who was currently directing servants with an air of unsettling authority. "Calm down, he's not doing a single thing." Dominic shrugged his shoulders.
"Calm down?" Edward turned from the window, his brow furrowed. "Dominic, a few days ago, this entire estate was spewing out Frankenstein's monsters, and you expect things to 'calm down'? The police are still everywhere."
"Minor details yiddy yadda, I'm getting bored," Dominic waved a dismissive hand. "Sophia Miller handled the clean-up anyways. You heard the vice principal. Anything Sophia touches turns to gold. Or, in this case, perfectly managed PR disaster control. Besides, it adds a certain… flair, wouldn't you say? Keeps things interesting." He smirked.
Edward rubbed his temples. "'Interesting' isn't how I'd describe it when my life is on the line. I mean, we're supposed to be bodyguards, right? But the only person who needed guarding is dead, and the suspected killer was one of the family members we were guarding him."
"Such is the life of a Hex Academy student," Dominic said with a shrug, leaning forward to pluck another pastry. "You think they send us to guard people who aren't targets? We're bait, a small distraction."
Edward stared at him, aghast. "Glorified bait? You're serious, aren't you?"
"Always," Dominic said, popping the pastry into his mouth with an air of nonchalance. "It's why you don't get attached. Rules of the game. Now, don't worry about anything and just watch them if you don't have anything to do".
Edward's gaze snapped to Elias, who indeed sat at a small, elegantly laid table, sipping from a delicate teacup with an unnerving grace. "What are you suggesting?"
Dominic simply smiled, a flicker of cold amusement in his eyes. "A clever fox hides in his den." He slouched in his chair, tapping at the edge of the armrest, trying to pass the time.
"I wonder why the vice hasn't failed us yet, maybe there's more to this, we've failed to protect the patriarch, yet we haven't been dragged away." Edward slowly stroked his chin. "The vice told us to specifically guard a high ranking government official's family, maybe the patriarch wasn't part of his family".
"Edward, what the hell are you on."
"What if Adrian killed the wrong one"?
Dominic recoiled backwards, his own face sinking into his own neck, as he blinked repeatedly.
"The hell you mean wrong one"?
"Hear me out, what if the patriarch isn't dead, the vice principal didn't seem to care much about the patriarch's death, but he must be deeply intertwined with the government for us to be guarding him. What if he isn't dead"? Edward stared into his eyes, blinking once then twice.
"Honestly… I don't really care much about the intricacies of whatever plan they have, I'm bored, you know what I wanna do? I wanna go watch a movie." Dominic smiled, leaning back in his chair.
"We're supposed to be guards".
"Hey~".
"What?" Edward replied sternly.
"Hey~"
"What?"
"I'm bored."
"Like you haven't said that a million times over".
"Where are the rest of our classmates anyways"?
"I haven't seen the edgy kid with purple eyes since… well, since this morning," Edward admitted, a fresh wave of unease washing over him. "He was with Lucy earlier, but then he just… vanished. And Neila was last seen arguing with Elias right outside this hall. I heard some crashing."
Dominic raised an eyebrow. "Crashing? And you didn't investigate?"
"You told me to keep my head down!" Edward hissed. "And she's Neila. I'm not suicidal."
Dominic burst into laughter, loud and unapologetic, drawing a few startled glances from the servants. "Fair enough, fair enough. Good answer, Edward. You might survive this place yet." He stood up, stretching languidly. "Come on. Let's go find our wayward companions. This party is far too dull without a little more… drama."
Edward sighed, but followed. This was precisely the kind of "random topic" that led to actual trouble.
"You're annoying". Edward whispered under his breath. "You monster".