The heavy door of the wine cellar groaned on its hinges as Ray pulled it open, stepping out into the cool, dimly lit stone corridor. Rina followed closely behind him, her posture rigid, her hands held awkwardly away from her sides so the drying blood wouldn’t stain anything else.
Captain Svane stood exactly where Ray had left him. Flanking Svane were Master Alvon’s elite security guards, their expressions tight with a mixture of hostility and unease.
Ray looked directly at the lead guard.
"We are finished with our initial assessment. Your personnel may take over the crime scene. However, be absolutely clear on this: under my temporary jurisdiction, nothing inside that room is to be moved, altered, or cleansed without my explicit presence and consent. Do you understand?"
The guard bristled at being commanded by a thirteen-year-old student, but a low, vibrating growl from Svane quickly adjusted his attitude. He gave a stiff, reluctant nod.
"Let us move upstairs."
Ray said.
As they ascended the stairs, the heavy, oppressive silence of the subterranean levels slowly gave way to the faint, melodic vibrations of the gala. The contrast was apparent. Just a few floors above, the wealthiest nobles in the Kingdom were laughing, drinking, and dancing, entirely oblivious to the fact that a murder had occurred just right below them.
When they reached the landing just off the main hall, they found Master Alvon, Headmaster Andrade, and Lady Jane Starr waiting in a secluded, velvet-draped antechamber. Lady Jane had composed herself slightly, though her vibrant energy was obviously dampened. Her eyes were red and swollen, and she wrung a silk handkerchief anxiously in her hands.
Ray approached the group, offering a brief, respectful nod to the Headmaster.
"The cellar is secured. Master Brekka, your men are holding the door."
"Have you actually deduced anything useful, Croft, or are you just wasting my time?"
Alvon demanded, his voice a low, with an annoyed rasp.
Ray ignored the bait, turning his focus to the matter at hand.
"I need to speak with the junior staffer who first reported the 'attack' to you, Lady Jane. Hanna. I also need to identify the messenger who pulled Warren out of the kitchen."
Ray turned behind him.
"Rina, describe the person."
Rina stepped forward slightly, keeping her bloody hands clasped together.
"He was young, perhaps sixteen. Sandy blonde hair, a slight build. He was wearing the standard staffer vest, but he had a small, distinct scar on his left jawline."
Lady Jane immediately turned to a senior staffer standing by the entrance of the antechamber.
"You heard her. Who is that?"
The staffer turned to answer, but as his eyes landed on Rina, he physically recoiled. The sight of the sweet, polite attendant soaked up to her elbows in blood sent a visible shock across his face.
"Focus!"
Lady Jane snapped, her aristocratic authority cutting through her grief.
"Who is the boy she just described?"
The staffer blinked rapidly, pulling his gaze away from Rina.
"That... that sounds exactly like Travis, My Lady. He was assigned to the appetizer stations tonight."
"Find him, locate Travis and Hanna immediately. I need your to bring them to me in Mr. Ramada's office."
Ray ordered smoothly, stepping into the staffer's line of sight.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
The senior staffer nodded and left right away.
"Why Warren's office, Lord Croft? My private study should be more appropriate. It is soundproofed. You can talk to them."
"I appreciate the offer, Lady Jane, but I need to see Warren's office, I need to see the environment where he spent his final hour before he was murdered."
Ray replied.
Jane understood the grim logic and gave a slow nod.
"Of course."
Ray turned to Svane.
"Svane, escort Rina to one of the guest washrooms. Please protect her."
Ray said as he looked at Svane seriously.
“Yes, my Lord.”
Svane responded.
Lady Jane immediately flagged down a trusted maid.
"Go with them. Draw a warm basin and bring the girl a fresh, clean dress from the quartermaster."
As Svane led a deeply relieved Rina away, Ray turned his attention to Master Alvon and Headmaster Andrade. His golden-flecked eyes hardened, shedding the polite veneer of a guest.
"Headmaster, Master Brekka. I need you to establish a hard perimeter around the manor immediately. No one is to leave this estate."
Andrade frowned deeply, the ambient mana around her flaring with instant resistance.
"Novice Croft, you are asking me to hold the wealthiest, most politically connected nobles in Eldoria hostage at this gala. The political fallout of detaining the nobles and the Solhavens political figures against their will would be catastrophic."
"I am aware of the politics, Headmaster, but you must look at the tactical reality."
Ray countered, taking a step closer, his voice dropping to an intense, undeniable register.
"Warren Ramada might not have been killed by a random nobody in a panic. The killer specifically chose the isolated wine cellar for the murder. This was a premeditated assassination."
He let the weight of the word hang in the air for a fraction of a second before delivering the killing blow to her argument.
"And the murder weapon is still missing. The killer could be a professional, which means they didn't run into the night covered in blood. They are likely still in the gala right now, drinking sparkling wine, listening to the music, and waiting for the carriage line to open. If we do not secure the location, we are going to let the assassin walk out of this manor as if nothing happened."
Ray held her gaze.
"Frame the lockdown however you must. Call it an 'extended security demonstration,' or a 'surprise midnight magical performance.' But do not let anyone cross the threshold. House Starr's safety demands it, and our investigation requires it."
Andrade stared at the boy, calculating the terrifying logic of his deduction. She let out a long, heavy sigh, realizing he was entirely correct. If an assassin of that caliber was currently mingling with the academy's elite, letting them slip away was a far greater failure than offending a few bruised aristocratic egos.
"Master Alvon, establish a perimeter around the manor, quietly. If someone attempts to leave, instruct your guards to stop them and tell them that it is under my authority."
Andrade ordered, her voice like forged steel.
Alvon scowled but offered a crisp salute, turning on his heel to execute the order.
Andrade looked back at Ray, tapping the silver face of her pocket watch.
"I will buy you the time you need, Ray. But I cannot stall the elite of this Kingdom forever!"
"I understand."
Ray said.
Lady Jane guided Ray up the sweeping, carpeted grand staircase to the second floor, bypassing the noise of the ballroom entirely. They arrived at a heavy oak door bearing a polished brass nameplate:
W. Ramada - Head Steward.
As Jane opened the door, Ray stepped inside. The office was impeccable. It smelled of rich mahogany, polished brass, and old parchment. Large, meticulously organized ledgers sat perfectly aligned on a massive desk.
But what immediately caught Ray's eye were the walls. They were lined with beautifully framed, enchanted photographs.
He walked slowly along the wall. The pictures told a silent story. He saw a photograph of a much younger Warren standing tall and proud beside Lady Jane when she was barely an adult herself. Further down, there were photos of Lady Jane’s wedding, another couple of photos was of Warren gently holding the Starr siblings. Dylan, Francesca, and Krystle, when they were toddlers. In every image, Warren wasn't positioned like a servant in the background; he was standing with them, a quiet, unyielding pillar of the family.
Jane let out a stifled sob from the doorway, her grief resurfacing with violent force as she looked at the memories.
"He wasn't just my butler, Lord Croft. He was... he was family. He raised my children when my husband passed. He kept us safe."
Ray looked at her, his expression softening with genuine empathy.
"I know, Lady Jane. And I am going to find who took him from you."
He turned back to the desk.
"Lady Jane, are you aware of any recent arguments, rivalries, or spats Warren might have had? Anyone in the household or the academy who harbored a grudge?"
Jane shook her head helplessly, wiping her cheeks.
"I don't know. We only just returned from our kingdom-wide tour a week ago. The only major update I received upon our return was how the Moonpetal flower is now available and that he had initiated to distribute it to my friends that are suffering the same debilitating illness I had before. Warren handles all the details of the household. He shields me from the mundane squabbles."
She pointed a trembling finger toward a stack of sealed folders on the edge of his desk.
"He regularly compiles a 'Household Status Report' for me so I can review the estate's affairs. But with the gala preparations, I simply haven't had the time to read the latest one yet."
"I need that report."
Ray said immediately.
"I can have it delivered to you here."
Jane promised, taking a step back into the corridor.
"I should... I should return to the gala before my absence causes a disturbance. I will help by keeping the guest occupied and entertained. Please, Lord Croft. Find the monster who murdered my family."
"I will."
Ray vowed.
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