"The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone."
***
Lyra's face went white. All the blood drained out of her in about two seconds flat. Her eyes locked onto the necklace in Grundy's hand with the raw, unfiltered shock of someone whose world had just flipped upside down.
"I... I've never seen that before. I don't know how—"
"How indeed." Lord Blackwood's voice had gone cold. Each word dropped into the silence like a hammer. "Guard!"
The soldiers moved forward. Their hands were already reaching for Lyra's arms before she could finish talking. She didn't run. Didn't resist. Just stood there as the trap closed around her.
"My lord, please." Her voice cracked. The composure was gone now. "I didn't steal anything. I would never—"
"The evidence speaks for itself," Leo interrupted. He stepped forward with the absolute certainty of someone who believed justice was simple. "Miss Ashford, you stand accused of theft from a noble house. The penalty for such a crime is—"
"HE'S THE THIEF!"
The shout came from behind us. Every head in the room turned toward the doorway.
Thomas burst in. His face was flushed red with exertion and righteous fury. In his hands, he clutched several leather-bound ledgers. Their edges were blackened by fire and still trailing wisps of smoke. Behind him, a crowd of servants had gathered. Their faces showed shock, vindication, and the kind of grim satisfaction that came from watching someone powerful finally get caught.
"Who dares interrupt—" Lord Blackwood began.
"Marcus Grundy is the thief!" Thomas's voice carried the authority of a man who finally, finally had proof. "He's been embezzling from the household accounts for months. Maybe years!"
Grundy's face went gray. His mouth opened and closed without sound. Like a fish on dry land.
"That's... that's ridiculous. This man is clearly trying to deflect attention from—"
"These are the account ledgers for the past six months." Thomas held up the burned books like a prosecutor presenting evidence. "I found them in the incinerator. Forged entries. Falsified records. He's been skimming from the household budget and doctoring the books to cover it up."
He flipped open one of the less-damaged ledgers and pointed to specific entries. "See here? The same expenditure listed twice with different amounts. And here. Supplier payments that exceed the actual invoices by almost thirty percent."
Lord Blackwood's face darkened. His eyes fixed on Grundy with the kind of cold fury that usually preceded someone losing their head. Father stepped forward, his politician's instincts already working on damage control. Leo looked confused. His prepared speech about justice and consequences had suddenly become irrelevant.
And there we go. The pieces fall into place.
I leaned against the doorframe and examined my fingernails. Bored. Disinterested. Just another incompetent noble son too dim to understand what was happening around him.
Let them remember me as the fool in the corner. Not the guy who set this whole thing up.
The argument kept raging. Grundy was denying everything, his voice rising to a near shriek. The careful composure had shattered completely. "This is absurd! These records are outdated! I was disposing of them according to proper procedure!"
Thomas laid out his evidence like someone who'd spent years watching corruption and memorizing every detail. "Then why burn them today? Why specifically during a theft investigation?" He pulled out another ledger with clear signs of altered entries. "And why do these 'outdated' records show transactions from last month?"
Lord Blackwood's hand moved to his sword pommel. "Grundy. You will explain yourself. Now."
Father stepped between them, playing peacemaker while also distancing himself from the scandal. "Gentlemen, please. Let us examine this evidence calmly."
Translation: Let me figure out how to make sure this doesn't splash back on House Leone.
And through it all, Lyra stood frozen in the center of the storm.
The guards had released her arms. Their attention was on Grundy now, and on the growing crowd of angry servants. Her eyes were wide. Unfocused. Darting from Grundy's gray face to the burned ledgers in Thomas's hands to the necklace that still lay on her bed.
She looked like a woman who'd been prepared for the gallows. Who'd already started making peace with dying. And then watched the executioner get arrested instead.
That's the look of someone whose life just got handed back to them. Bet that feels weird.
The relief on her face was fighting with confusion and disbelief. She swayed a little. One hand reached out to steady herself against the wall.
"I don't..." Her voice came out thin. Barely audible over the shouting. "I don't understand what's happening."
Welcome to plot deviation, Lyra. The story you thought was written just got edited by someone you never saw coming.
I stayed where I was. Kept my posture slouched. Kept my expression vaguely confused, like I couldn't quite follow the rapid developments.
Grundy was being surrounded now. The servants had formed a loose ring around him, their faces hard. Thomas stood at the front, still holding his burned evidence. Lord Blackwood was demanding answers. Father was trying to restore order. Leo was attempting to figure out where justice actually pointed now that his neat narrative had been turned on its head.
This is chaos. Beautiful, beautiful chaos.
"The necklace," someone said. One of the older servants, Martha. "If Grundy's been embezzling, maybe he planted the necklace too. To cover his tracks. Frame someone else for his crimes."
Lord Blackwood turned to look at the emerald necklace still lying on Lyra's bed. Then at Grundy. Then back at the necklace.
Come on. Put it together. It's not that complicated.
"That is a serious accusation," Blackwood said. His voice was quiet now. The dangerous kind of quiet.
"My lord, I would never—" Grundy started.
"You would never what? Steal? You've apparently been stealing from this household for months." Blackwood stepped closer to him. "Why should I believe you wouldn't frame a servant to divert attention from your crimes?"
Grundy's mouth opened. Nothing came out.
Checkmate.
I pushed off from the doorframe. Shuffled toward the edge of the crowd with the aimless movement of someone who didn't really know where to go. Nobody paid me any attention. Why would they? I was just Kaelen. The useless third son. The family embarrassment.
Exactly as planned.
Lyra caught my eye as I moved past. Just for a second. There was something in her gaze. Confusion, mostly. But also something else. A question she couldn't quite form.
I gave her a small, nervous smile. The kind of smile a coward gives when he doesn't know what else to do.
Then I looked away and kept walking.
One life saved. One corrupt steward exposed. One narrative derailed.
Not bad for a day's work.
Now let's see what the story does next.
Behind me, the chaos continued. Guards were taking Grundy into custody. Servants were talking over each other. Nobles were demanding explanations.
And somewhere in that mess, a red-eyed maid was realizing she was going to live.
You're welcome, Lyra.
You're welcome.
Today was a good day.