When I followed Joane inside the library, it was almost believable that out of all places, Ernest Boudrot would choose this room in his estate to welcome death. Long windows drew in the pale daylight as it illuminated shelf after shelf filled with thick leather bound books. An animal skin softened the hard wood underneath our soles as we made our way to the small sitting area consisting of three comfortable chairs and a small dark wooden table.

Joane sat down and instructed Farah and I to do the same. Still gawking at the room around us, I heard Joane clear her throat. When my eyes met hers again, they were welcomed by an impatient stare.

"Don't lie to me, Annabelle. Tell me what you know and I'll tell you what I know and then we can discuss if our collaboration goes further than this conversation." She said, placing her soft hands on either arm of her chair. Her ancles crossed to the point where her black lacquée shoes didn't even touch to squeak.

"My mistress has told you the big lines." Farah decidedly said in my place. With an eyebrow raised, Joane's judgemental gaze ran over Farah's old attire.

"I am talking to your employer, not to you." The Boudrot daughter said and she returned her attention back to me. Underneath her scrutinizing look I could barely manage to recall the sudden bravery with which I had managed to arrange this meeting. Reed's face ran through the back of my mind, his stern look that one night when those cruel men had invaded our house. A look that would burn down castles to make sure that I was unharmed.

As a friend, I was obligated to find him, I told myself and I straightened my back. I needed to know if Joane was aware of Reed's recent work as a spy. Normally she wouldn't be but if she did know it would prove easier to work together in an entire honesty. Instead, I forced myself to lie.

"Reed wanted to return to the Night Guard." I said firmly. My words hung in the silence for a while as Joane's eyes turned calculating. Her brows frowned and a deep line was carved on her forehead. She pouted, unaware of the movement before she nodded for me to continue.

She believed me.

"As a trial, they gave him the task to find whoever attacked councilman Banner. He was on the right track when Banner was murdered which only seemed to confirm his suspicions."

Joane lifted a finger to her lips and prodded her underlip slightly. "And has Reed informed you about his suspect?"

I shook my head, feeling an ashamed blush dawning on my cheeks. He didn't trust me enough to hide such important information. "Otherwise I wouldn't be searching in the dark." I replied.

Joane must've seen the emotions so clearly displayed on my face but she didn't push further onto the already painful subject. If Reed had trusted me enough to tell me, this whole cat and mouse game would've already ended.

"The only clue I have is your father. Reed was planning on talking to him. Probably somewhere after the Masquerade, but Reed..."

Joane remained silent for a while, focusing her gaze on a small vase of delicate white flowers I did not know the name off. She didn't continue my sentence. She took a deep breath before she continued the conversation.

"We have nothing." She decided. "Your husband is missing, my father is dead and the ones responsible are... anonymous." At that last word, a muscle pulled at the corner of her mouth. Suddenly Farah froze. Her wrist tensed and she ran her fingers quickly up and down the arm of her chair. I eyed the sudden movement curiously. I looked back up at Joane who was watching us intently.

"You have your own suspicions!" I let out so suddenly I even surprised myself. Joane rose her eyebrows and slumped back in the chair. Farah smirked.

Joane opened her mouth only to shut it once more. She was clearly upset that we caught her. If it weren't for Farah, she would have gotten away with it.

"My suspicions are dangerous. I really wish them not to be true." Joane suddenly said with a voice filled with emotions. My silence and angry glare encouraged her to continue.

"Before his death," she started "my father was talking to one of his accountants when I overheard them. Our bussiness isn't doing great, which is odd since our sugar trade has provided New Paris ever since its foundation. To find out that our sales are declining is truly weird, especially since there are no newcomers in our market. My father went on an investigation and found that our biggest rival was no one less than the Drysdales."

Farah next to me seemed to understand but I just listened carefully, vaguely remembering Winnie and Adler Drysdale from the Masquerade. Upon my frowned expression, Joane explained "The Drysdales have the smallest property of all the plantations. They tried to work their lands numerous of times with all types of resources but they never managed to really break out. And then suddenly this small corporation is undermining our sugar trade which has been goin' strong for generations."

"But how is that even possible?" I interrupted.

Joane sighed loudly "It simply isn't. Unless they are using illegal methods or resources."

"The Drysdales have been on the edge of bankruptcy for years. This sudden sugar trade just doesn't make any sense." She continued.

Farah and I processed this new information. I let my head fall back, hearing a satisfying crack as I turned my head to the side and looked at the leather bound books. All of this wisdom collected in an enormous study and yet none of us could get out of the biggest mystery of all. Who's responsible for all this danger that suddenly comes over New Paris?

"We need to work together. I think we can safely assume that the one behind Banner's death is probably the same as the one behind Reed's disappearance. Those two are definitely linked." I sighed, swapping away some stray hairs from my face.

"Could it be that Reed suspected the Drysdales for the murder on councilman Banner?" I suddenly blurted out, a light in me urging me to clear out this dark mess.

Joane watched me sceptically. "He wouldn't have any reason to. The Drysdales supported all of Banner's decisions in the Council. The one who killed Banner wanted him out of the Council, that's the only motive I can think of."

"And couldn't it be that the Banner had any interest in the sugar trade? I need to know the link between Banner and your father. What made them both dangerous enough to kill?"

Joane got that curious shimmer in her eyes. "Banner sold his warehouses to father in return for registred shares. If our sugar trade was going down, Banner must've known."

"So the one responsible for Banner's death and your father's might be the same. One who has benefit when those two are gone. It looks like a motive for the Drysdales." I offered.

"Boudrot's trade was the only thing that kept them from having a monopoly in New Paris. With the chief and an important shareholder dead, the business is thoroughly shaken, probably long enough for them to win some important clients over and take over the market."

Joane nodded. "That all makes sense but you don't know the Drysdales. They have been struggling for years, especially after their scandal, but they could never have had the means to construct such a wellfaring sugar business. I doubt they have nothing to do with this, but they can't possible be working alone."

We let the words sink in. It suddenly became clear that the Drysdales were involved but we couldn't quote fathom their position. As with all the other clues, we just continued to paddle around in a pond of questions. One answer brought forth at least ten others and in the mean time Reed was still gone.

Finally Joane stood up and dusted of her skirt. "No matter what we need to confront the Drysdales or at least continue to follow that lead. But we can't just barge into their estate and demand answers." She threw me a look "That doesn't work with people who are desperate to hide."

"I suggest you stay here for the night." Joane said and she started walking out of the library. "Tomorrow we return to New Paris to follow our lead."

I stopped in my tracks "And how are you so certain our next lead is in New Paris and not here in the plantations?"

Joane turned around so quickly I was looking at her back one moment and at her persistent, fierce stance the next. "In the plantations, we will raise suspicions. We will find our answers with the one person who's completely inexistent to the Drysdales." With that she turned around and led us the way to the guest rooms.

❖❖❖❖❖❖

When Farah and I made ourselves comfortable in the guest room, my curiosity drove me to ask Farah some questions. She was preparing the big double bed for the night as the sun was slowly setting after this eventful day.

"What is the scandal of the Drysdales?" I asked. Farah shook her head. A single dark gray strand escaped her tight bun which she quickly tucked away behind her pierced ear. The dull golden knob inside the piercing didn't even reflect the dimmed light. She then continued to place all the decorative pillows on the window sill before she finally turned to me and remembered my question.

She guided me and forced me to sit down in front of the mirror of the boudoir. In a flash of a moment, I remembered my mum doing the exact same thing so many times before. The family back in Eauville didn't even know of Reed's disappearance.

"The Drysdales are a very... old family. Old money." Farah said as she started removing pins from the bun in the nape of my neck. "As Miss Boudrot told us, the last decade, the family found itself often in monetary trouble. Previous family members were known for drinking and gambling but the present Drysdales are decent people. They tried really hard to clear their name. But in this city, reputation and money often go hand in hand. 

The Archers for instance are wealthy and decadent but no one would ever think of expressing their doubts about them. The Drysdales, however, they were clearly less affluent than other prominent families which made them bitter and jealous. In this dark era of the Drysdale family, their daughter was born and raised to be a respectable lady."

The pins were all gone and Farah reached for a thick brush to comb through the vague curls that descended over my shoulder.

"But the poor Drysdale daughter was a passionate and naive being. She got lured away on her seventeenth birthday and rumors say she gave herself to a man barely worthy of a name and title. When her parents found her in a very shameful and indecent state, they abandoned the poor thing. She was banished from the estate and they even had her name scrapped on the register."

I gasped at this news. The register, the document which held all the eligible singles of the Sacred Dry, was regarded as nearly holy in the marriage market. It was a custom that people chose their fianced from that list. Only the really wealthy could buy their names of the register to avoid a forced marriage at the age of twenty until twenty-three. It was the most humiliating thing to remove the name of an eligible man or woman of the register. It completely cut them off of their families and even more society. People who were scrapped on the list were forbidden to marry and doomed for a social banishment.

"They banned their own daughter?" I let out in disbelief.

Farah shook her head and looked up with disappointed eyes. "The folks of New Paris are a special kind, Ma'am. Most of them value reputation over being a decent human being."