A sharpness ignited on Isabel's features but immediately got buried under the fragile facade. Her tear-soaked gaze transfixed on Eine, wearing a mask of bewilderment. "Midy…How could you accuse Miss Laeticia of such a heinous act? We had a bond closer than blood." The Valois mistress' hands grabbed her chest as though the accusation was a dagger stabbing her in the heart. "Miss Laeticia and I considered each other like sisters."

  "Perhaps you once did," Eine concurred. "Until the day you discovered the truth."

  "I do not know what you are referring to," Isabel denied.

  "Ten years ago, you became pregnant. However, eight months into your pregnancy, you had a stillbirth and lost your son," Eine recounted, briefly gncing at Azalea, then returned her attention to the Valois mistress. "A year ter, Laeticia became pregnant with this child."

  Isabel stayed silent, neither refuting nor confirming the story. Everyone else eyed Eine with intrigue and suspicion, waiting for her to continue. Some of the older mistresses recalled the event. It was not uncommon for a mistress to miscarry during pregnancy, and in Isabel de Valois' case, no one was implicated. Everyone surmised the stillbirth was because of the Valois mistress' frail body and poor health. Even if foul py was involved, there was no evidence or witness.

  "Do you remember the maid you brought to the Croix estate? If I remember correctly, her name is Cris Ronell," Eine asked another sudden question.

  "Cris…she is no longer here." Isabel's gaze lowered, pursing her lips.

  "She is no longer alive," Eine corrected her. "A servant found her with a broken neck beneath the staircase a few months ago. Quite a simir situation to Agnes Rossi, don't you agree?" She chuckled, her eyes narrowing as she gauged the woman's reaction.

  "I do not understand your insinuation, Lady Estel." The Valois mistress lifted her head, eyes firming and exhibiting a rare slip of the practiced facade.

  "Simultaneously, in the same period, someone burned and killed all the Ronell's family members in her hometown. Curious development, is it not?" Eine repeated the information she had learned from the Croix's intelligence networks. "Ten years ago, Cris' family suddenly became wealthy overnight. Since then, they would receive a rge sum every year afterward." She snapped her fingers. Behind her, Cecil pulled a document from his uniform and handed it to the Duchess' maid.

  "I was fortunate to find a copy of the agreement between Laeticia and Cris from the House of Sabran," Eine said. After learning about the dead maid and the 'coincidental' events, she suspected a knot connecting all the mysteries. Since their initial scheme over ten years ago, the Sabran mistress should have wanted to erase all traces of her involvement. Yet, she not only kept Cris alive but also continued to support the maid's family. They must have reached another agreement. Assuming neither Laeticia nor Cris were fools, they would retain a written form of their transaction to restrain the other party. Given the sensitivity of the terms, Laeticia and Cris were unlikely to store their copies in the Croix estate. Eine traced the origin of the annual transferred amount. Despite the conspirators tried covering their tracks with diversions, their attempts were no match for the Croix intelligence networks. As she expected, the path ended at Laeticia's childhood home. The Sabran mistress entrusted the contract to her mother. At first, the Lady of House Sabran was reluctant to release the information. However, through a few 'friendly' correspondences, Eine was able to wrangle the document from her.

  Was the scheme originated from Laeticia or the House of Sabran? It was a mystery destined to remain unsolved as the primary culprits were already dead or would prefer to carry the truth to their graves.

  "Every year, Cris was to feed Isabel a particur substance." Eine turned on her heels, strolling back to the center. Her footsteps echoed throughout the crowded chamber. The audience and performers stayed silent and held their breath, ensnared by the conspiracy Eine painted. She pulled a tiny bottle from her dress pocket and poured a white, salt-like powder on the floor. "I assume several of you will recognize this odorless powder," she stated, noting some mistresses' pallid countenances. "Though it is benign by itself, once mixed with another specific substance, it would cause infertility to the user. Am I correct, Isabel?" Her gaze refocused on the Valois mistress.

  "I have never seen this substance nor learned of Cris' and Miss Laeticia's unspeakable act until now." Tears streamed down Isabel's cheeks as she again tugged at her chest, gasping for air. Her despairing visage agonized over the revetion. "How…how could they? I regarded them both as my family." She sank to her knees. The Valois mistress locked Azalea in trembling arms and wept, soaking the little girl's shoulders with her sorrow.

  Azalea's features contorted in blended anguish and shock. Her small age and ck of experience failed to supply her with enough perspicacity to understand Eine's allegations' enormity. She could only grasp the fact that her mother had committed an abominable act against the frail woman who always treated her with kindness despite everyone else's betrayal and considered her like a daughter.

  "Is that so?" Eine said, scrutinizing the weeping woman's expression. Despite the Valois mistress' efforts to conceal her feelings, an overwhelming, intense scorn briefly fred within her eyes when she referred to the other two women. Though Eine could not find indisputable evidence indicating Isabel's knowledge of Laeticia's sin, she was confident it caused the cascading series of events. However, no matter the timeline of the Valois mistress' discovery, Eine had enough evidence implicating her collusion with Agnes Rossi to frame Laeticia and Azalea.