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The Count Alvore sat in a soft cushioned chair gazing out the window on the second floor of his grand manor. A crystal glass in his hand, the liquid swirling as he he slowly shifted his wrist.

Behind him on his hardwood desk lay the contents of the house budget for the past few years. The funds he had so generously provided for each of his four children had clear indications of their uses.

As per expected, Walter's had been untouched and Sorin's had been invested where the Count had guided him to but what was stood out was his daughter Sibyl's spending.

The Count kept a close eye on the Countess's spending but his children were given free rein to do what they wanted.

After seeing his youngest for the first time in years, the Count was most curious as to what the girl had been up to. He wanted to know how she did it. How she faked her death and what exactly made her try and kill the King.

Knowing that she had been arrested and that it would be futile to try and contact her he did not even try. Instead, the Count decided to do his own digging.

The Count always liked to know what was happening before anyone else especially if it was related to his own kin. He wanted to be the most informed in the room.

If he was going to help his youngest, he should at least get his information correct and see what exactly it was that drove his daughter to commit such a crime against the crown.

The butler was in charge of recording the spending of the entire household and would assist him when it came to drawing up the annual budget. The old man was highly knowledgeable and had been with the Alvore household for just under a decade.

The butler stood at the door; hands tucked nearly behind his back waiting patiently for the Count Alvore to give him instruction. For the past couple of hours, the Count had not moved his nose from the books until a few moments ago when he poured himself a drink.

There was silence and the butler could not help but shift uncomfortably on his feet at the intense atmosphere. The Count had not said single word, but the butler could clearly tell that something was wrong; very wrong.

"How long has this been going on?" The Count's cold voice sliced through the room.

"My Lord?" The butler was confused.

The Count Alvore slammed his palm down, causing a loud thump. The poor butler flinched in fright.

"How long has my youngest not been receiving her allowance?" The Count seethed.

"My Lord, Lady Sibyl has always received it. The Countess made certain of it." The butler nervously responded.

The atmosphere got colder. The butler did not know what he had said wrong and was beginning panic. He slowly looked up into the angered eyes of the Count Alvore; a mistake on his behalf. The Count had narrowed his eyes, and an angered scowl graced his lips.

"I did not ask about Sibyl," The man began, "I asked about my youngest."

The butler was suddenly confused. Was Sibyl Alvore not his youngest?

The butler was a professional when it came to doing his job. He had been in numerous positions in different noble households and had worked his way up the ranks through the years.

He prided himself in learning how each of the households were run and the inner workings of the different families within the first few days. The Alvore household had been no different.

He had learnt all the names and positions of all the primary members and through the years many of the secondary branches and close cousins. From the portraits that lined the walls, he could name them all at a glance.

He had always known that the Count had three children. It was obvious from all the portraits. He was well aware that Sorin Alvore was the eldest and next in line with Walter and Sibyl being the next two.

Had he perhaps made a mistake? Was Walter actually the youngest and not Sibyl?

Something told him that there was more to this. He was missing the bigger picture and from the Counts reaction this was clear.

"Forgive me my Lord but who do you refer to?" The butler nervously asked.

The Count's sour mood darken further, and he narrowed his eyes daring his butler to speak again, "Erica."

The butler was confused. The name was familiar from doing all the accounting books, but the butler had thought it was a guise, spare savings or something along those lines.

"The spare allowance, My Lord?" The butler was terrified, but he needed to know so he could try and understand the nobleman's mood.

The Count's sharp eyes shot to him, "Spare allowance?!"

The butler flinched again at the Count's raised voice, but he nevertheless continued, "Yes, the spare allowance that Lady Sibyl Alvore uses..."

"You are telling me that my youngest, Erica has not once received her allowance in these past few years and all the funds have been redirected to her sister?" It was a rhetorical question, but the Count was clearly enraged, "Who allowed this?!"

The butler's eyes widened. The Count had a fourth child, "My Lord, forgive me," He bowed his head, "I allowed this to happen under my watch."

He still could not believe it. The Count had another child. Did she live on the estate? Surely not because he would have known.

Suddenly the butler's mind shot to the strange person who had been living in the East section of the manor. The person who had strangely disappeared a while ago that none of the servants had never seen. Whoever they were, they were known to have been a horrible freak with a monstrous personality.

Was that who the Count's so called youngest child was?

"No. It was not you." The Count stated, his eyes momentarily deep in thought, "Tell my wife and Sibyl to come and see me."

The butler nodded and scurried out of the room desperate to escape.

The Count watched as the door closed before bringing the glass to his lips again. He was angry. Very angry.

He knew his wife did not like Erica but to redirect her funds to Sibyl was not right. Erica may not have been of her blood, but she was still an Alvore and the Count thought that he could trust his wife enough to take care of her. Clearly, he was wrong.

Not even a minute had passed before the butler had re-entered the room. His appearance indicated he had just run, and his wide eyes expressed urgency that something was wrong.

"Forgive me, My Lord," The butler tried to catch his breath, "Lady Alvore and Lady Sibyl are currently being escorted off the property."

The Counts eyes widened in surprise before he quickly sat up and moved to the opposite window. Sure, enough he could see six guards surrounding his now chained wife and daughter.

"Under whose order? Who dare enter my house and do such a thing?!" The Count needed answers. His voice was now seething clearly upset at this.

"The Duke and Duchess of Trencent." The butler bowed.

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