Chapter 121: FIRE

DIANA’S POV

The fire alarm sounded during dinner.

Three sharp bells rang, followed by a pause and another three.

Every Blackharrow official at the table moved before Diana remembered what the signal meant.

Warehouse.

Raigoro stood as Daric reached the door.

"Lower receiving court," one guard called from the corridor.

Diana pushed back her chair, but Alma caught her arm.

"No." 𝖋𝙧ⅇ

Diana looked at her.

Smoke had not reached the upper household level, Diana had received no order requiring her below, and Household Relief would gain absolutely nothing from its Grand Duchess walking into a fire.

Annoying.

But correct.

Raigoro turned to the guard captain. "Seal the diplomatic storage routes. Fire crews get priority."

Then he addressed Diana. "Remain above the lower court."

His voice had the cold finality of command.

Diana disliked him intensely.

She nodded anyway.

Daric disappeared down the stairs, and Raigoro followed with Blackharrow’s senior security officers.

Diana managed to remain where she was for approximately one minute before she and Alma moved to the covered gallery overlooking the lower receiving terrace.

She was still above the lower court.

Technically obedient.

Smoke was already spreading from the western warehouse passage. Fire crews dragged emergency lines across the stone while warehouse clerks carried boxes into the outer court under guard supervision.

Diana recognized what they were saving.

Records.

Her attention went immediately to the evidence connected to the Valence cargo. The suspicious wardstone itself was stored elsewhere under Ward Command, but the attached warehouse held receiving copies, transport tags, local manifests, crate identifiers, and other material tied to the shipment.

Including the Northline trail.

Daric appeared below through the smoke and shouted something Diana could not hear. Two guards ran toward the west service passage.

Another alarm sounded, this one for a gate restriction.

Alma gripped the railing. "Someone ran."

Diana turned to her.

"How do you know?"

Alma pointed toward the lower maintenance stairs, where one guard had raised a bow.

Daric forced the weapon down with one hand and gave an order Diana could not hear.

Too many workers were moving through the court for a safe shot.

Beyond the lower supply sheds, a shadow disappeared from view.

Someone had been inside.

Diana looked back toward the smoke pouring from the warehouse. If someone had fled through the service passage just as the fire began, accident had become a considerably less useful explanation.

Raigoro remained near the warehouse entrance, handling only what belonged to command. He did not enter the active fire line because Blackharrow’s fire officer controlled it.

Apparently, everyone intended to retain their professions even while the building burned.

Diana appreciated civilization.

The smoke thickened as a warehouse worker stumbled outside coughing. Two others helped him clear the doorway while a clerk began counting the people emerging from the building.

Diana followed the count from above.

The clerk reached the end, checked the doorway, and began again.

Diana knew what that meant.

Then another clerk emerged through the smoke, and the count below settled.

Everyone accounted for.

Sabotage was serious enough without giving it a body.

A second hose line reached the west side, and steam rolled through the broken doorway when water struck something hot inside. The fire officer ordered everyone back until the record-room wall could be checked.

Nobody argued because Daric or Raigoro happened to be nearby. Command could secure exits, but the fire crews decided whether a burning room was safe.

A guard reached the upper gallery.

"Your Grace. Command requests Household clear this passage in case smoke moves east."

Reasonable.

Diana and Alma followed him toward the connecting stair.

Alma stopped so abruptly that Diana nearly walked into her.

She was staring toward the west service passage.

The passage was empty now, but something had caught her.

Diana took out her slate.

WHAT?

Alma kept looking toward the passage as smoke rolled along the ceiling farther below.

"I was here earlier."

Diana raised the slate.

WHEN?

"Before the second evening bell. I brought the copied receiving notes from your office."

Diana remembered. The warehouse clerk had requested the annotated copies after the wardstone anomaly.

"I saw someone come from there," Alma said.

Diana wrote:

WHO?

"I don’t know."

The answer came without an attempt to make the memory more useful than it was.

"A man," Alma continued. "Southern clothes."

Diana looked toward the passage again.

A guard came from below before she could ask anything else.

"Your Grace, this level needs to clear."

Diana pointed toward Alma and wrote:

WITNESS.

The guard read the slate, looked at Alma, and then checked the active fire route.

"I’ll send for Commander Voss."

For once, Diana did not argue.

Below them, the fire crews reached the records room, and the first report came up through a runner.

They had found multiple ignition points with delayed burners and oil cups placed beneath the record shelf, near the crate-identifier cabinet, and beside the copy table.

Diana understood the pattern immediately.

The fire had been placed around information rather than supplies.

The maintenance door added another piece. Someone had wedged it so the lock appeared engaged without fully catching, leaving an exit prepared in advance.

The wedge itself was only folded dark cloth, ordinary and cheap enough to discard without expecting anyone to care about it later.

An evidence clerk marked the latch before a guard removed anything.

As soon as the fire crews allowed access, evidence clerks began recording what had survived before anyone moved it. Some local papers had burned, while others were wet but readable.

Command still held duplicate route files. Ward Command had independent stone identifiers, and Valence held duplicate manifests.

The fire had damaged evidence, but the investigation still existed in more than one room and more than one set of hands.

Another runner came up carrying a wet ledger between both hands.

"Do not open it," someone shouted from below.

The runner stopped.

An evidence clerk met him at the stair, recorded where the ledger had been found, and carried it flat toward the drying room.

Diana watched the procedure.

Even during a fire, they recorded location and condition before trying to discover what the ledger contained. Nobody grabbed at surviving evidence merely because it might provide an answer.

Blackharrow had learned that discipline from false receipts. Now the same habits kept half-burned paper from becoming another story someone told with more certainty than the evidence deserved.

A second crash sounded below, but everyone on the gallery remained where they belonged. The fire crew owned the room until they said otherwise.

Daric eventually reached the upper passage smelling of smoke.

"Casualties?" the guard asked.

"None so far."

"Evidence?"

"Some loss. Too early to know how much."

Diana stepped toward him, and Daric immediately looked from her to Alma.

"What?"

The guard answered before Diana raised her slate. "Her Grace says the attendant is a witness."

Daric turned to Alma. "To the fire?"

She shook her head.

"Before it."

Something inside the warehouse collapsed with a crash below them.

Daric waited for Alma.

"What did you see?"

"A man coming out of the west service passage."

Daric’s attention stayed on her.

Alma continued.

"He was wearing Valence household clothes."