Testimony Behind Emerald Draperies

I. The Gilded Cage

The banquet hall reeked of bergamot and hypocrisy. Ayla's satin gloves stuck to the Bloodline Codex as she traced its gilt edges, the parchment colder than the champagne in her hand. Across the room, Selena's wolf-head brooch winked beneath chandelier light—a predator's grin frozen in silver.

"They'll rip you apart for this," Lila had warned that morning, rewrapping the bandages on her still-bleeding palms. Her fingers lingered on Ayla's wrist, calluses catching on pearls. "Words are sharper than fangs in these halls."

Now those words trembled in Ayla's sleeve, Lila's manuscript rustling like a caged bird. She counted the exits again: three arched doors manned by wolf-masked sentries, the service corridor behind the ice sculpture, and him—Lucas, stationed by the obsidian pillar with his cursed mechanical eye whirring softly. Always seven seconds between surveillance sweeps. Always watching. Never seeing.

II. Wine-Stained Truths

The first wine droplet fell at 8:17 p.m.

"—Article Thirty-Seven's prohibition on hybrid land rights," Ayla's voice cut through murmured Latin hymns, "relies on a misinterpretation of lunar succession laws."

Ruby liquid seeped through "denies," blurring ink into Rorschach blooms. Gasps slithered through the crowd like snakes. Lord Harrow's monocle fogged. Lady Voss's fan snapped shut.

Selena emerged from the curtain's shadow, her crimson nails digging into a server's arm. "Careful, little scholar," she purred, "parchment burns brighter than flesh." The boy winced as her brooch teeth pierced his sleeve—identical crescent scars dotted his neck.

Ayla unrolled Lila's manuscript. Dried blood flaked onto the Codex, brown stains squirming to form sigils. There. The wolf crest's triple moons glowed faintly, mirroring Selena's pendant.

"How curious," Ayla's knuckles whitened around her glass, "that our fiercest pureblood advocate inherits a mongrel's crest."

III. Broken Chains

Lucas' pen scratched louder.

He'd positioned himself downwind—close enough to catch her rosewater scent, far enough to feign indifference. His mechanical eye zoomed on the manuscript's blood patterns, crosshairs flickering.

Target identified: Lupine Heritage Marker 7A-XX. Threat Level: Critical.

His gloved hand twitched toward the emergency bell. Stopped.

The Codex's corrupted page trembled in Ayla's grip. She looked smaller tonight, he noted absurdly. The emerald drapes swallowed her silhouette whole.

"Inspector?" Her voice lashed unexpectedly. "Does the Council's scribe require thicker lenses?"

His pen nib tore through parchment. Ink bled.

IV. Pearl Requiem

The necklace snapped at 8:43 p.m.

Selena's wine arced through air—a scarlet comet. Ayla twisted, emerald drapery tangling her sakura pendant.

Snap.

Pearls exploded across marble. Lucas' hand retracted lightning-fast, the severed chain coiled around his fist like a hanged man's noose.

"Defective craftsmanship," he muttered, closer than propriety allowed. His breath fogged her earring. "You'll thank me later."

Ayla knelt, fingers brushing a pearl beneath the Codex. It burned—how? The sphere pulsed faintly, etching a smoldering dot in the wolf crest's eye.

V. Shadows in the Service Hall

Past midnight, scullery maid Elara scrubbed blood-red stains from the Codex.

"Odd," she whispered, rubbing her branded wrist. The wolf sigil itched.

Her rag smeared wine into strange constellations. A coordinate grid emerged near Ptolemy's Belt—48°51'N, 2°21'E. Mother's den.

Footsteps echoed. Elara crumpled the rag, heart hammering. Lord Lucas' shadow stretched across the wall, his mechanical eye casting an amber beam.

"Dispose of tonight's linens," he ordered, tossing a coin purse. "Incineration chamber. Personally."

The weight felt wrong. Elara peeked later—three silver bullets nestled in velvet.

VI. Selena's Vow

"Bring me her heart."

In the vaulted smoking room, Selena traced her mother's portrait—the same face now glowing in Lila's bloodstains. Her wolf guard knelt, fangs dripping.

"The hybrid bitch dies at the solstice." She snapped the Codex shut on Ayla's notes. "And ensure Lucas remembers who holds his chains."

Outside, storm clouds swallowed the moon.

VII. Coda: The Thirteenth Pearl

Ayla found it in her left slipper—a lone pearl glowing faintly blue.

"Moonstone?" She frowned, holding it to the window.

The sphere fractured under pressure. Inside lay a microfilm scrap:

Lila's birth record — Mother: Selena Voss (née Blackthorn).

Somewhere below, a wolf howled. Lucas' boots echoed in the stairwell.

Ayla swallowed the film fragment, its edges slicing her throat.

Let them come.