Who Taught You?

The crisp autumn air bit through Ella's shawl as she snipped a blood-red rose from her garden. Petals glistened like liquid rubies under the pale morning sun. How fitting, she mused, plucking a thorn. The greater the beauty, the sharper the poison beneath. Her thoughts drifted to the Garcia family drama unfolding across the city—rumors spread faster than sycophants at court."Such delicate hypocrisy, aren't they?" she murmured to her maid, Emily, who blinked in confusion.

"My lady?"

Ella smiled without warmth. "The Garcias. Lord David, suddenly so gravely ill... Men like him don't collapse. They strategize."

The Garcia Estate, Main Chamber

David Garcia flung open the balcony doors, vibrant health radiating from his tanned face. "Sickbed? Pfah!" He scoffed at the physician's tonic steaming on his desk. "Let the Southern Minister believe I'm vomiting insides—he'll claw at my empty seat like starved hound!"

"Careful, eldest brother."

David turned to see his youngest sibling Anthony slouched in the doorway, jam staining his collar. At nine, the boy resembled a pampered alley cat—all soft edges and sticky fingers clutching sweet buns.

"Your theatrics reek of overripe melons," Anthony mumbled through pastry. "When Father receives the Emperor's 'pity decree' tonight..."

"When the hares die, the hounds get cooked?" Ethan Davis drawled from the shadows. The military strategist emerged like drawn steel, eyes glinting. "Clever adage for a child who still wets his bed."

Anthony froze mid-chew.

David stepped between them, laughter brittle. "Merely a boy's prattle, Ethan! From some sotted tutor's ramblings, no doubt—"

"When," Ethan interrupted, circling Anthony, "did you happen upon imperial proverbs about butchered allies? Your nursemaid's lullabies? Or perhaps..." He crouched eye-level with the boy, voice dropping to silk-wrapped venom. "...someone's been whispering treason in your shell-like ears?"

Anthony's bun hit the carpet. "I-I just...it made sense! After the Emperor gifted those poisoned falcons to General Liu last week, cook said—"

David barked laughter. "The kitchen gossip taught you statecraft? Glorious!" He ruffled Anthony's hair too roughly. "Run along, tadpole. Your nursemaid's weeping over your soiled sash again."

As the boy scrambled out, Ethan seized David's wrist. "Your father's retiring for this farce?"

David yanked free. "Survival demands sacrifice. When the hunt ends, kings gut their hounds. My family tree's too lush—time to shed leaves before the axe swings."

Ding City Markets, Noon

"...terrible tragedy, Young Master Garcia's collapse!" A fishmonger wailed to customers.

Ella adjusted her veil, savoring the theater. Commoners flocked like gulls—so easily fooled. She lingered near Ethan Davis arguing with a spice merchant.

"Not sunstroke," Ethan snapped, tossing coins at saffron. "Pneumonia from valor! Camped three weeks in northern marshes to quell rebellion..."

Liar. Ella bit back a smirk. The rebellion had ended in days—but Ethan's bluster stank of desperation.

"...bulwark of the realm forced to this!" A scholar shook his head. "With Lord Garcia ill, who protects our borders?"

Ella drifted closer. "Perhaps our wise Emperor," she murmured, "no longer needs protecting."The crowd stilled.

Ethan's gaze snapped to her. "You dare imply—"

"Oh! Forgive me, Commander Davis." She dipped into a flawless curtsey, voice dripping honeyed innocence. "Merely marveling at Heaven's providence. With southern lords suddenly ailing..." Her lashes fluttered. "...how convenient fresh generals bloom each spring."Fury mottled Ethan's neck.

Garcia Estate, Midnight

Anthony gulped moonlight like secrets as he crept to the ancestral hall. Father had been shouting about censors and supply routes—grown-up nonsense until...

"If the Emperor knows we feign weakness..." Father's silhouette twisted against rice paper screens.

David's shadow shrugged. "Let him stew. We play invalid until spring, stash Anthony with cousins..."

Anthony gasped. Footsteps stormed closer—

"Well?" Ethan yanked him from hiding by his collar. "Learning more treason, princeling?"

"N-no! I just...hungry!"

Ethan shoved him against bloodwood pillars. "Who taught you that phrase?"

Tears blurred Anthony's vision. "N-no one! I heard...the alley...beggars talking when Cook sent me for lotus paste—"