"Anie!" Jonathan's concern was visible as he rushed towards me, his eyes piercing through the illusion that had fooled the townsfolk. It was nice to see that even after all these years, the sight of a little blood on my clothes still scares him.

"I'm fine," I reassured him, brushing off his worry as I discarded the contract on the table and shed my coat.

"Damien!" Jonathan's voice rose in alarm, turning to his brother who had silently waited. Time had slipped away from me in Kuzsi, or perhaps Damien had abandoned his search prematurely. "Is this your idea of protection? What's wrong with you!?"

"Relax, it's just another uniform for the pile," Damien retorted from across the room, his distance from Jonathan as vast as the mansion's walls allowed.

"And most of that blood isn't even mine," I added, an attempt to alleviate his concern.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better, why, exactly?" Jonathan's frustration was evident as he examined the contract. "What in the name of Light is this?"

"It’s a contract," I observed, watching him thumb through the crimson pages with revulsion. "Or rather, it used to be." I revealed the crystal briefly before securing it once more. Jonathan's frown deepened with worry. "I guess they have a second copy in Athran. I'll be happy to bring it to you," I offered, though the prospect was less than appealing.

"In the same condition?" Jonathan echoed my sentiment, discarding the contract.

"Athran took Kuzsi from us. Did you have any knowledge of this?" Damien pressed.

"All I know is their disdain for our new terms. Athran wasn't mentioned. And if one of the Steeles’ signed this with full awareness..." He trailed off, his gaze returning to the table, heavy with implication.

"Steven's signed it," I confirmed, cutting through Jonathan's hesitation. "And he's not one to ink his name without understanding the full weight of his commitment," I hinted, leaving the question hanging in the air.

Damien's laughter was tinged with disbelief. "He's still just a little puppy.. How could he grasp the gravity of his actions in Mergo? I bet he's never been there."

"Your confidence is touching, Jim," I retorted. Despite his youth, Steven had always displayed a level of discernment beyond his years.

"You need to talk to him, Anie," Jon insisted.

"And what will she say to him, Jonathan? Sorry, love, you can't toy with my territories'? Absurd... We'll reclaim Kuzsi and fortify Mergo. The East has been ours; it shall remain so," Damien declared with fervour.

"Steven, like any Steeles, is entitled to amend those contracts. Mergo Hensya is a collective of sovereign trade towns. They never belonged to us; they pledged allegiance," Jonathan countered with a note of superiority. "The issue at hand is the enforcement of our family's edicts, which he neglected to report. This illicit trade must cease, contract or no. That is our duty. My concern is the repercussions for Steven if—"

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"Jonathan, please..." Damien interjected. "You fail to grasp the breadth of our work and its ramifications."

"Do we have to go through this every time?" I asked, approaching Damien. I silenced him with the revelations I had uncovered, then relayed them to Jonathan. "One of you must inform Stephan of our findings, while the other secures a watchful eye over Mergo until order is restored."

"I prefer the journey east over seeing Steph," Damien conceded, nodding farewell before departing.

"I presumed you'd be the one to go," I remarked, eyebrow arched in amusement. Damien's aversion to travel would be uncharacteristic; I had expected him to relay the news and head to Lemford though. "Have I missed something?"

"Why are you asking me? He doesn't confide in me," Jonathan replied, visibly annoyed by his brother's silence. "You both lack a shred of common sense. You solve everything with a fight. It's like I have two irresponsible kids, not just one," he chided, adjusting his immaculate suit. "Do change out of those clothes before meeting Steven. You're a sight for sore eyes."

"We both know I'm dashing, as always," I countered, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the carafe. I took a sip from my glass, the bloodstain on my attire the only blemish. "And he doesn't care anyway. All I have to do is loosen my hair and smile."

"Isn't your self-assurance misplaced, given your display in Mergo? Why bother with rules if you flout them?" Jonathan's reproach morphed into disapproval. "You disregard commands, endangering bystanders…”

"I didn't endanger anyone, I just stabbed Jim."

"So the blood on the contract is Damien's?"

The tension in the room was palpable, a thick fog of unspoken words and veiled concerns. "Well, no… but by the time I stabbed Gaby he wasn't a bystander," I clarified, brushing off the implication of recklessness. "

"You don't usually act like that, what's going on?”

"You're right; I usually don't. But Athran's interference, led by my own partner, is an unprecedented complication," I confessed, my hands thrown up in a gesture of exasperation, sending droplets of liquid hurtling towards the immaculate floor. Jon, ever the guardian of his domain, dissipated them with a mere flick of his wrist, preserving the illusion of perfection that shrouded everything he touched.

"That doesn't answer my question," he retorted, arms crossed, the embodiment of patience. Perhaps Damien has shared what he knew about my dreams, or perhaps Jon simply knew me too well. After all, he was my father, yet his demeanour only served to fuel my ire.

"That's the only answer I have to offer," I replied curtly, swapping the glass for the folder and grasping my coat—a ruined garment, to be precise—as I made for the door.

"Andrea," his voice, stern and commanding, halted my departure. The silence that followed compelled me to face him. "I will speak with Stephan and clarify the situation. I understand your anger, but please, try to stay calm when you confront Steven."

"Are you afraid I'll ruin our family's reputation?" I questioned, acutely aware of my current state, akin to that of a common criminal. The blood must be cleansed from my being.

"I fear you'll utter words that will haunt you later," he cautioned, his concern genuine, though his advice feels futile.

"The same caution applies to you. Stephan will remain indifferent to the cities' autonomy," I countered. The likelihood of a clash between the two was significant, especially since Jonathan overseed all contracts, and this one eluded him—a rarity. Something else must’ve been amiss. "Unlike you, I have no problem admitting my mistake and apologising."