The sun was setting behind the walls of the capital when the Douglas banner emerged through the dust of the road. The city gates opened in haste, and a ripple of unease spread through the crowd waiting for news from the Cymopelia Forest.

  Sofía and Lusian, still bearing the scars of battle, crossed the threshold of the Douglas manor. What they found inside was utter chaos.

  Servants weeping. Soldiers disoriented. And at the center of the great hall, Duke Laurence Douglas, his gaze hollow, his face consumed by fury.

  "What happened here?" Sofía asked, her voice steady but heavy with concern.

  A guard stepped forward, bowing his head with fearful respect.

  "My lady… young Caleb has been murdered."

  Silence fell like a slab of stone. Lusian took a step forward, unable to process the words.

  "Murdered…?" he repeated under his breath.

  His mother gave no answer. Laurence's expression alone was enough to confirm the tragedy.

  The investigation had revealed the unthinkable: a letter from Isabella Armett, found in Caleb's chamber, had summoned him to the very place where he was later discovered dead.

  The ink, the seal, the handwriting—all matched the official records of House Armett.Everything pointed to betrayal.

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  In a fit of madness, Laurence ordered the arrest of everyone present at the scene of the crime. The capital became a cauldron of rumors and fear. Even the king was forced to intervene to prevent bloodshed among the nobles.

  Inside the duke's study, the air was suffocating. The fireplace cast red shadows across the walls as Laurence paced back and forth, consumed by rage.

  "Those responsible for my son's death will die!" he roared, slamming his fist against the table.

  Sofía stood by the window, watching him with icy composure. Her voice, though soft, cut through the room like a blade.

  "You cannot act guided by grief alone, Laurence. If you rush headlong into this, you will drag the entire family down with your anger."

  The duke lifted his head, his eyes burning red with fury.

  "And what would you do, Sofía, if someone killed your son? Tell me! If you were Lusian, how would you react?"

  The duchess turned slowly, her gaze blazing with a mixture of contempt and truth.

  "I would never allow anyone capable of harming him to come near my son.And you… you neglected yours."

  Her words struck with the weight of a sentence. Laurence stood frozen, trembling between guilt and rage.

  "I will gather the soldiers," the duke declared, his deep voice echoing through the hall. "I will take the beast cavalry with me. I will raze their territory and force Count Noah to confess with my own sword."

  Sofía regarded him with disdain.

  "There is no need to send an army to crush a minor territory," she replied coldly. "I will go with five hundred riders. If you seek vengeance, take it yourself. But I will not drag thousands into a senseless war."

  Laurence stared at her, furious, unable to comprehend her composure. He struck the table again; the flames in the hearth trembled.

  "Do not dare defy me!"

  Sofía did not answer. She turned toward the door, her cloak sweeping behind her. Larryet was waiting outside. Without looking back, she spoke in a firm voice:

  "Make your decisions, Laurence. But do not expect everyone to share in your mistakes."

  The duke cursed under his breath as the door closed behind her.