Elias stood before the narrow reading desk in his living room, his fingers wrapped around a blade as he meticulously wiped it clean with a white handkerchief. The storm outside rumbled through the night, rain hammering against the windows.

He smiled, satisfaction curling across his lips. The deed was done. That insolent Emilia girl would surely learn to keep her nose out of things that didn’t concern her.

Turning towards the kitchen, he barked, “Freya! Come here, immediately.”

Footsteps padded softly down the hall before Freya appeared in the doorway, her head bowed as she approached. “Yes, Father?” she murmured.

He eyed her sharply. “Go to the attic and keep...