Can We Become Family?

Chapter 3

Naviah dragged a chair across the floor and positioned it in front of one of the cabinets in her room. With a soft thump, she hoisted herself up. Balancing on tiptoe and outstretching her arms, she could just manage to reach a can of oil placed on top of the cabinet. She lowered it gingerly, ensuring not to spill its contents, and peered inside. Indeed, it was filled with excess oil that was used to keep the lamps burning.

She carried the can over to her door. A small hole had been drilled in the wood—a malicious creation of Eudes’ doing, meant to invite bugs into her room. Carefully, she began to pour oil through the hole and into the door’s exposed wood, saturating it with the flammable liquid. The oil continued to flow until the can ran dry.

Naviah’s expression remained blank as she disposed of the can, careful to erase all evidence of her actions. She then took a lit candle and tossed it toward the oil-drenched door.

Whoosh!

In an instant, the door was consumed by a ferocious blaze. The peeling paint mixed with the lamp oil proved to be a highly flammable combination. But Naviah wasn’t done. She yearned to create an even larger inferno, one that had the potential to consume the entire mansion—and perhaps even herself.

Her gaze shifted to the books stacked in her room. Historical texts she had memorized from cover to cover, etiquette guides providing instructions on how to act like a proper empress, books of culture that would make her an acceptable fit for high society—she ripped them all to shreds. The books, originally meant to mold her into an ideal Lady Agnus, now served only as additional fuel for the fire.

“That Lady Agnus is dead,” she declared. It was only fitting that these books, relics of a life she was soon to be leaving behind, should be devoured by the flames.

The fire spread voraciously, growing more intense with each passing second. Smoke engulfed the room, making it hard to breathe. The heat was intense and the fumes were acrid, yet her red eyes, glinting with the reflection of the flames, showed no sign of panic. She had died many times before and she no longer feared fire.

Naviah turned toward her window. The first light of dawn was spilling onto the balcony. A new life, a fresh start—had a morning ever felt so invigorating?

Naviah was well aware of Eudes’ habits, and she had a good idea of the vantage point he’d choose to watch this scene unfold. She strode toward the balcony with solemn determination as if performing a final rite, ready to confront the sole member of her audience. She flung open the balcony doors. The autumn air was crisp and invigorating. As black smoke billowed from behind her and tears formed in her eyes, she took a deep breath. With all the strength she could muster, she screamed, “Help me!”

Despite being trapped in a raging inferno, she remained surprisingly relaxed as she waited for help to arrive. In past lives she had waited in the hall for her maid, only to end up receiving a verbal thrashing, or tried to escape off the balcony where she would subsequently meet her demise. But this time she would abandon such methods. Fire draws attention. The servants would arrive to extinguish the flames before they engulfed the mansion, and she would be freed from her room in the process. The plan seemed not to have a single drawback.

The sun was beginning its ascent. In the early morning stillness, the large fire and clouds of smoke quickly drew the attention of onlookers.

“Fire! There’s a fire!” A boy, perhaps a scout keeping watch over the estate, sounded the alarm. “On the second floor, in Lady Naviah’s room!” The first witness’s cries of alarm triggered a rapid response. Servants rushed toward the fire with buckets of water, their footsteps pounding against the ground like cracks of thunder.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Naviah glanced over her shoulder. The banging on the blazing wooden door suggested a frantic effort to break it down. It finally burst open.

“It’s open!”

“The flames are too strong!”

Hacking on the smoke’s fumes, servants scrambled about the room, desperately throwing water on the fire in an attempt to control the blaze.

“Damn it, what’s taking so long?” Eudes’ voice, laced with panic, resonated above the chaos. “How did this fire start?! Quickly, my playroom is right next door!”

Eudes, a water magician, tried employing his magic to suppress the flames. But the fire, intentionally set and amply fueled, proved stubborn against his efforts.

It won’t be extinguished easily. It mustn’t. “Save me,” Naviah managed to gasp. Just then, a loud voice cut through the crackle of the blazing flames and the shouts of the servants battling to extinguish them.

“What’s going on here?” Duke Nikan Agnus, Naviah’s adoptive father, had arrived on the scene. “Is management so lax that you couldn’t prevent a fire this early in the morning?” As expected, thought Naviah. He was more concerned with pointing fingers than assessing the danger of the current situation.

Nikan, a more powerful magician than his son, was clearly frustrated with the feeble attempts to control the blaze. “Tsk! Everyone, stand back!” With a gesture of his hand, plumes of steam began to rise from the floor. The flames, hissing as they were devoured by the frothy steam, lost their ferocity and began to dwindle.

The fire was soon completely extinguished, leaving behind a charred shadow surrounding the door. Naviah had been watching with disdain as she crouched on the balcony. With the fire taken care of, she broke into a bout of coughing and pitiful shuddering. Glancing at Naviah, Nivan clicked his tongue in irritation. “Summon Dr. Hans!”

Naviah had been a precious find. He had scoured numerous orphanages to source such a gem, which he had selected for her exceptional beauty even at the tender age of seven. He had secretly paid a substantial sum for her and recruited the best tutors to provide her with an education. He had even hired a painter to create a phony portrait, presenting her as a distant relative of the Agnus family.

And now, just as I’ve finally managed to convince her that she was only left in the orphanage because of her family’s accident... If the girl were to perish, all the risks he had taken, as well as the efforts he had made to fabricate her backstory, would be rendered a waste. The thought infuriated him to no end.

“Lord Eudes!” Phillipa, the nanny assigned to care for the Agnus children, pushed her way through the commotion and burst into the room. Her focus seemed to intentionally bypass Naviah, landing instead on Eudes. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “Are you hurt? Fires are extremely dangerous! You should have stayed far away!”

Nikan found the situation increasingly perplexing. He was well aware of his son’s profound animosity toward Naviah, yet the boy had come running to the fire and tried to quell it with his magic. The pieces didn’t seem to align.

“Your Grace!” A knight, scrutinizing the charred remains of the door, located the odd hole. Realizing its potential significance, he promptly reported it to the duke.

“A hole? Someone must have used it to soak the door in oil before they ignited the fire.” Nikan gritted his teeth in frustration as his mind raced. Could this have been plotted by a rival branch of the family? Perhaps they aimed to eliminate Naviah and have their own daughter adopted into the main house. No, the method chosen seemed more akin to a childish prank, too amateur to serve such a grand scheme.

Phillipa’s expression shifted subtly as she recognized the hole’s true purpose. Taking notice, Nikan addressed her sternly.

“Phillipa.”

“Y-yes, Your Grace.”

“Do you know anything about this?”

“I... Th-that is...” She stumbled, torn between admitting the truth and remaining silent.

It was at that moment that Eudes made an unexpected confession. “I’m the one who drilled the hole,” he said.

The duke’s expression hardened. Phillipa, shocked and alarmed, cut in. “Lord Eudes!” But Eudes was seemingly indifferent to the severity of his admission, only appearing annoyed at his nanny’s attempts to silence him.

Naviah, who had been looking on quietly, suddenly descended into a fit of violent hacking. As the room’s eyes shifted toward her, she adopted a terrified expression. She tearfully squeaked out words between coughs. “Brother, I begged for you to open the door. Why...”

Her words trailed off as she was overcome by another bout of coughing. The faces of the surrounding vassals shifted from expressions of shock to those of grave concern and suspicion. Had Lord Eudes really made an attempt on Lady Naviah’s life?