The Feather Vault and the Hunter’s Path

[Rynthall Estate—Mid-Morning]

The Rynthall Estate was basking in an illusion of peace.

Well… not exactly peace. Because if our dramatic baron, Lucien d'Armoire, exists within a five-mile radius, peace is nothing but a fantasy novel no one asked for.

But still, relatively peaceful—because the aforementioned baron was currently seated in the garden under a lace-draped canopy, sipping his morning tea with the blissful expression of a poet in love with a daffodil.

The birds were chirping. The tea was steaming. The chaos… was temporarily paused.

It was, as they say, too good to last.

"MYYYYYYYY LORRRRRRRRRRRRRD!!!"

Lucien choked mid-sip, spraying Earl Grey all over his cravat like a broken fountain.