Chapter 43 Two Heiresses

Marlowe reception lights turned every glass green enough to make ordinary wine look suspicious before anyone touched it.

Damien entered beside Isolde beneath a black formal coat hiding Verdict against his left hip.

’Three hundred drinks and one missing target, damn, whoever planned this understands how to make paranoia exhausting.’

Isolde wore a fitted crimson gown beneath gold poison chains, with her long red hair pinned over one bare shoulder.

"Stay close until my mother finishes presenting us as a profitable rumor," she said, sliding one hand around his arm.

"Does the profitable rumor know we came here to prevent murder?" Damien asked, checking servants through Eye of Reckoning.

"It knows your current Board rank and my unmarried status," she replied, pulling him toward the receiving line, "society requires nothing else."

’She weaponized my arm before we crossed the first carpet, original Damien would have combusted near this dress.’

Vivienne waited beside the Marlowe matriarch in white formal uniform, her ash-blond hair braided beneath a silver clasp.

Steel-blue eyes dropped toward Isolde’s fingers before returning to Damien with controlled politeness.

"Lord Sterling, your physician cleared public activity remarkably soon after yesterday’s trial," she said, offering one gloved hand.

"Oh, Mina cleared standing upright and threatened consequences for anything more athletic," he replied, taking her hand beneath Isolde’s hold.

"Your artificer possesses sensible limits," Vivienne answered, then looked toward Isolde, "Lady Marlowe appears determined to test them."

Isolde tightened her arm around Damien and gave the formal smile used before expensive negotiations.

"My intentions remain transparent, Lady Ashe, though staring harder will not improve your preferred interpretation," she said, guiding him forward.

"Your intentions have never suffered from excessive subtlety around eligible men," Vivienne replied, releasing Damien’s hand one second later than ceremony required.

’Formal questions and contractual flirting, wonderful, I am standing between two women who can duel without raising their voices.’

Mina’s voice entered the receiver hidden behind Damien’s collar while he crossed into the main hall.

"Reception wards show six alchemical signatures near service access," she said from a parked workshop carriage, "three belong to cleaning agents."

"Only three possible murder mixtures sounds almost considerate for this reception," Damien murmured, accepting a sealed water glass from Bram near the wall.

"Man, speak quieter unless you want every noble checking their drink," Bram said, scanning the eastern exit through his tablet.

He wore a borrowed formal jacket stretched around broad shoulders, while its tight collar had already turned his neck red.

"The guest registry changed four minutes ago," Bram added, holding the screen beneath Damien’s glass, "one name disappeared without a cancellation record."

’The quest warned us, good, follow the blank space instead of guessing which rich stranger deserves a poisoner.’

Damien studied the seating display and found an empty position beside Lady Seraphine Vale, a silver-haired academy donor near the fountain.

Her companion’s card had vanished, though an untouched place setting remained at the central table.

Vivienne approached before he could move, placing herself between Isolde and the servant carrying their welcome drinks.

"Your welcome glass contains a measurable nightbell residue," she told Isolde, taking the tray from the startled servant, "explain exactly who prepared it."

"Nightbell preserves Marlowe citrus wine," Isolde replied, lifting the glass toward chandelier light, "the poison requires something less obvious."

"Then perhaps your house should stop serving ingredients used in six common assassinations," Vivienne said, returning it without apology.

Isolde drank a small amount while holding her gaze, making Damien’s stomach tighten before Mina’s receiver stayed silent.

’She knows her own poisons, idiot, still, drinking to win an argument feels dangerously on brand.’

"Focus on every servant entering through that eastern arch right now," Damien said, lowering Isolde’s glass before she proved another point.

"You just interrupted a genuinely educational disagreement between two noble heiresses," she replied, though green eyes followed his indicated route immediately.

"He stopped you from swallowing more reagent to annoy me," Vivienne said, turning toward the arch, "we can appreciate that together."

The next servant carried six clear glasses on a mirrored tray, with no visible residue around his neat white gloves.

Eye of Reckoning found one black route line running from his left cuff toward the empty seat beside Seraphine.

"Mina, check that clear tray entering through the eastern arch," Damien said, stepping behind two dancing couples without looking directly at its carrier.

"Nothing toxic inside the liquid," she answered through static, moving scans across his receiver, "the glass stems carry dormant binding powder."

’The poison comes later and sticks only after the victim holds a prepared glass, clever bastard separated every harmless part.’

Damien bumped Bram’s shoulder, making him spill sealed water across the route before the servant reached their position.

"These rented shoes cost more than my annual uniform allowance," Bram complained loudly, dropping his tablet near the wet carpet.

The servant changed direction around him, exactly as planned, but another attendant collected the fallen tray before Damien could follow.

She carried it toward the western service corridor while black route lines switched between every prepared stem.

"The entire poison route just moved through another unidentified servant," Damien murmured, watching her disappear behind a velvet divider.

"Then somebody monitors all floor traffic from inside Marlowe security tonight," Vivienne replied, signaling one Ashe guard near the entrance without exposing alarm.

"Careful while that message travels toward your waiting guard," Isolde said, catching her wrist before the signal completed, "Marlowe security reports directly to my uncle tonight."

Vivienne looked at the fingers around her glove, then back toward Isolde’s suddenly serious face.

"Your uncle appears inside that future execution frame beside the killer?" she asked, lowering her hand beneath the reception fanfare.

"He orders the arrest afterward," Isolde replied, releasing her wrist, "his innocence remains commercially doubtful."

’They stopped circling each other once the threat became real, good, keep both pointed toward whoever reroutes that tray.’

The women separated without another argument, Vivienne taking the public floor while Isolde entered a staff conversation near the fountain.

Damien followed the velvet divider and found two empty service carts beside a locked garden door.

One prepared glass remained under folded cloth, with binding powder glowing faintly around its stem through Eye of Reckoning.

Mina’s receiver clicked twice when he held it near the bowl, detecting an alchemical absence rather than poison.

"Something removed the antidote trace from that glass," she said, sharpening each word while tools moved behind her, "the poisoner expects treatment nearby."

"Find which antidote reacts first and we can identify the toxin before delivery," Damien replied, wrapping the glass inside cloth.

A shadow crossed beneath the garden door before one latch opened from the other side.

The unknown servant reached through, took a small violet vial from the cart, then vanished before Damien crossed the threshold.

’First vial entered the room through a route no guest list tracks, fuck, the poisoner is assembling the dose inside service traffic.’

He returned to the reception carrying the hidden glass while Vivienne redirected guests away from the eastern tables through formal seating complaints.

Isolde had cornered her uncle near the fountain using a smile that made the older man sweat beneath his embroidered collar.

"My uncle claims the removed guest never existed," she said upon rejoining Damien, "which means somebody purchased his memory or cooperation."

"The empty chair belongs beside Seraphine Vale, though the poison route keeps avoiding her directly," Damien replied, showing both women the wrapped stem.

Vivienne examined its powder without touching, then looked across the hall toward a young server collecting used plates.

"That boy carried the same white gloves during three route changes," she said, shifting her body to block his view of them.

"You noticed the carrier before my Eye confirmed him," Damien replied, finding black residue beneath the server’s right sleeve.

"Formal training still exists outside your increasingly strange Aspect, Lord Sterling," she answered, blunt pride cracking controlled speech for one satisfying second.

’She earned that, damn, say so later when an assassin is not threading poison between dessert trays.’

Bram moved toward the exits while Mina shut down two alchemical wards remotely, making chandeliers flicker above startled guests.

The server used the distraction to pass his violet vial beneath another tray carried toward Seraphine’s empty neighboring seat.

Damien saw the target enter using a private corridor, her name absent from every public card despite recognition spreading through the room.

Lady Elowen Ashe wore silver mourning clothes and carried Vivienne’s eyes beneath decades of exhaustion.

Vivienne stopped when she recognized her aunt, leaving formal control broken across her face.

’The frame shifted into House Ashe, shit, guarding Isolde was never enough, and Vivienne cannot watch family enter her own execution route.’

The prepared glass reached Lady Elowen while the server opened the first poison vial beneath his white cuff.