The Vampire's Court

Chapter 39-When Truth Emerges

The moment Seraphine stepped into the smoking parlor, she was met with a sight that stopped her dead in her tracks. The room was in complete and utter disarray, a far cry from the meticulously maintained elegance she had come to expect from every corner of the manor. The destruction was so thorough, so absolute, that it was almost difficult to believe what she was seeing.

Bookshelves that had once stood proudly against the walls were now nothing more than splintered wood and scattered debris. The shelves had been smashed apart, their contents thrown haphazardly across the room. Pages from books—some torn out entirely, others crumpled beyond recognition—were strewn across the floor like fallen leaves. The once-plush sofa was ripped to shreds, its fabric hanging in tatters, the stuffing and feathers from the cushions mingling with the book pages in a chaotic mess below. The armchairs were in no better condition, their upholstery slashed open, their frames broken and twisted.

The tables that had once held delicate crystal decanters and polished brass ashtrays were overturned, their surfaces gouged as if something—or someone—had taken out their rage on them. Shards of glass and twisted metal lay scattered among the destruction, glinting ominously in the pale light that filtered in from the tea room.

But it was the marks on the walls, floors, and remaining furniture that truly sent a chill down Seraphine's spine. Deep, jagged gouges, as if some beast had raked its claws through the very fabric of the room, marred every surface. The heavy wooden doors bore the brunt of the attack, with deep gashes cutting through them, the wood splintering outward as though something with immense strength had slashed at them repeatedly. The floors, too, bore similar marks, long and deep, as if someone—or something—had dragged its claws across the polished surface in a fit of uncontrollable rage.

Even the in-wall shelves, which had once been filled with fine china and delicate ornaments, were not spared. The shelves were shattered, their contents thrown to the ground and broken beyond repair. One of the armchairs had been upended, its legs broken off and scattered, its back slashed open as if it had been attacked by a wild animal.

Seraphine stared in disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in the scene. "This wasn't just a fall," she thought, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of the destruction. "This was something more... something much, much more."

She stepped further into the room, her eyes wide as she surveyed the damage. "No human could cause all this," she thought, a sense of unease creeping up her spine. "Let alone three people."

The destruction was too widespread, too violent. Whatever had done this had been strong—stronger than any human should be. She couldn't shake the feeling that something dark had happened here, something that Dimitri had gone to great lengths to hide.

Seraphine locked the doors to the smoking parlor behind her, the faint blue shimmer of the charm returning for a split second as the lock clicked into place. She paused for a moment, letting out a shaky breath before steeling herself for the next step. The study.

She moved with the same quiet determination, her light steps barely making a sound on the cold stone floors as she slipped through the darkened hallways. The pixies, still nestled in her hair, exchanged worried glances, their tiny faces reflecting the unease that Seraphine felt deep in her own chest. But she pushed forward, her resolve unshaken.

When she reached the heavy wooden doors of Dimitri's study, she took another deep breath. The door was imposing, as if daring anyone to cross its threshold. Seraphine reached into her pocket, her fingers closing around the cool metal of the skeleton key. With a slow, deliberate motion, she inserted the key into the lock. As it turned, the door shimmered briefly with that same eerie blue light before swinging open with a soft creak.