My Daughter-in-Law Stole My Face With the Eclipse Mirror and Made Me Serve Her Feast — Now the Mirror Is Screaming My Name
A sharp rap on my pantry door echoed through the quiet stone. I paused, my hands covered in flour. No one ever came here.
When I opened it, High Steward Thaddeus Kincaid stood framed in the dim light. His customary velvet robes seemed too grand for the dusty path, his face usually puffed with self-importance now drawn and pale.
He avoided my eyes.
“Cynthia,” he said, his voice a strained whisper, “I have a formal directive.”
He held out a parchment, its official seal prominent. I took it, my fingers brushing his. His skin felt cold.
I unrolled the document. It was an eviction notice.
It claimed I had outstanding debts to the Delacroix estate, accumulated interest on an ancient mortgage, tallying to an absurd amount that made my stomach clench. It was a lie, of course.
My cottage, this small pantry, was mine by ancient right, woven into the estate’s oldest covenants.
“Seraphina insists,” Kincaid mumbled, shifting his weight. He wouldn’t look at me directly.
I remembered the whispers in the palace, rumors of Kincaid’s deep pockets suddenly empty. His gambling habits, his secret $850,000 mortgage on his family villa. Seraphina had found his weakness.
“She is very… persuasive,” Kincaid said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. The corner of his mouth twitched, betraying his fear.
I met his gaze, holding it steady until he flinched. The weight of his own broken oath pressed on him more than any document could press on me.
“High Steward,” I said, my voice calm, “a forced transfer is a broken oath.”
He swallowed hard.
“Broken oaths,” I continued, “rot from within.”
He made a small, choked sound, his eyes wide, then turned abruptly and hurried back down the path, the sound of his heavy boots crunching on gravel fading into the quiet afternoon. He did not look back.
I folded the eviction notice neatly and placed it on my humble wooden shelf, next to a jar of dried lavender. It was a hollow threat, built on another person’s desperation.
I had faced down far greater powers than Seraphina’s paper.
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