Lord of Mysteries: Goddess of Origin

On the mahogany door, end of the second floor, north wing, corridor.

Two individuals stood in front of the entrance of Selina's room. 

The man had a deep-outline, wrinkled and stubbled face, brown eyes, lean body, and a combed black hair with a prominent white strands. 

While the woman beside him have a set of dull limp eyes, wrinkled face, crooked nose and a few strains of white in her black hair tied with a headpiece. 

It was Marquis De Leon and Georgia Maurice, the butler who assisted her to the dining hall and her personal lady's maid. Tasked to escort Selina into the lounge room, to meet the tailoress for her wedding dress before breakfast.

After a minute have passed, a lovely silver-haired lady gently opened the door from within.

Upon seeing the two, Selina revealed a courteous smile, and said in an amiable tone, "Shall we head now?" 

Marquis nodded before turning his back to Selina.

Before Selina could follow the butler, she noticed that apart from him, another servant is standing in front of her room.

In a soft voice she inquired, "Ms. Georgia, what brings you here?"

"I'm here to clean your room my lady." Georgia replied in a respectful tone. "In preparation for your tailoress." 

Clean!? S-She'll discover the blood covered bed sheets and the suit case! Selina's mind whirred with thoughts, How do I resolve this!?

In a measured voice, Selina responded. "Ahem... I believe the dressing room should be most fitting for the tailoress, am I right?"

"Correct my lady." Georgia replied, nodding slightly in agreement.

"Then there would be no need to visit my room... Please respect someone's privacy" Selina added, adding a slight temperament to her tone.

"Very well"

Aren't they way into character? She muttered internally, hiding her sarcasm before following Marquis to the living room.

After a few steps, the butler halted, and said sternly, "The head master wishes to meet you before we head to the lounge."

Deimsfel? What could be the reason? she pondered, before nodding in acknowledgement, "I will follow."

Arriving at the flight of stairs, instead of descending, they took a left turn, and resumed their tracks.

Soon, they reached the second floor of the manor's southern wing, where the office of the patriarch resides.

Before, it was her father who once occupies the room, now he 'gifted' it to her spouse, Deimsfel.

Marquis turned the handle open, gently swinging the door from the outside.

"Sir, Lady Ivory is here" he said in a deep voice, letting Selina enter the room before closing the door.

Seated behind the desk, Deimsfel shifted his attention from the documents on his hand and onto Selina. He revealed a sinister smile, before saying in composed voice, "Aren't you excited for our wedding tomorrow? Why the long face?"

Selina maintained a monotonous facade as she stood at an inch farther from the door. 

Daimsfel's smile became more unsettling as he added, "Or... do you have someone else?"

His hand rose from beneath the desk, revealing a piece of white tattered letter in his grasp.

It was the letter she have written for the members of the Tarot club to retrieve!

I-Is that!? Her mind stirred in disarray, repenting her careless indifference, she tried to remain composed as she looked at Deimsfel, monotonously.

Her body trembled lightly. She felt she had betrayed the Tarot Club members by her actions. Exposing their existence to a dangerous individual such as Deimsfel.

To what seemed like an eternity for a moment. Made Selina's breath lose focus, heart stammering her throat.

How will she maneuver her way to this matter when evidences were laid bair in fron of her?

Her intertwined hands clenched each other as she replied in a cold tone, "I do not have such inessential relationship with anyone."

At that moment, the shadows of the room began to contort, reforming into shackles.

With one fell swoop, the shackles caught Selina's wrists, binding her in place.

!!

The chains dragged the maiden to her knees. Restraining her palms onto the cold marble floor.

"Do you take me for a fool? The handwriting clearly resembles yours" Deimsfel explained unhurriedly, eyes becoming more mysterious as patterns that coalesced into crimson hue formed in his pupils.

Raising his hands, additional chains began to form from the shadows, further binding Selina.

Arghh...! The added chains made her involuntary let out a painful grunt. It held her in place, while also tightening their bound around Selina.

"What I'm wondering is... How are you so sure that someone will retrieve such insignificant letter that you would personally write groundless claims to?" Deimsfel's smile broadened as he gaze towards Selina, intrigued by her pointless actions.

"Tell me... How did you managed contact the outside?"

Selina's eyes lost its luster, teeth stammering and tightening behind her practiced grace. She replied in an indifference voice, "I'm in no contact with anyone"

"Hmm… well, it doesn't matter," Deimsfel said in a relaxed tone, raising the letter casually over his shoulder—a silent display of complete control.

In the next moment, sparks of light gathered around the paper. It ignited, burning rapidly, until nothing remained but gray ash swept away by the wind.

Not a single trace of her letter was left.

Deimsfel withdrew his hand beneath the desk and added calmly, "Because soon… the goddess will be reborn."

Selina's heart plummeted.

Her thoughts screamed what her mouth couldn't. Without the letter, without evidence, there would be no way to report the cult—no chance of rescue, no warning of the coming ritual.

"Marquis, escort my 'beloved' bride back to her room. The tailoress should be there," Deimsfel said, his head lazily turning toward the door.

My room? But I haven't—Before she could finish her thought, the door swung open.

Marquis entered without a word, took Selina's arm—now freed from the chains constructed from the shadows—and led her out of the office.

She stumbled at first, unsteady on her feet. Every step jostled her frayed nerves. When they reached the corridor, she stopped to regain her balance.

Marquis said nothing. He merely glanced at her, adjusting a crease on her corset dress, and brushed away dust with mechanical grace.

Then he turned to leave.

But before he could take another step, a voice, clear and composed, halted him.

"Tell the tailoress I'll be waiting in the dressing room," Selina said, stepping past him into the hallway.

Marquis offered a small nod and proceeded toward the manor's northern wing.

As she walked, her thoughts swirled—rage, dread, disbelief—all colliding behind her composed expression.

What do I do now!?

They probably have the two emblems in their possessions!

If I had been more cautious, I would've gone undetected!

Even if I tried escaping, with their mystical artifacts...

Tomorrow's going to be the final moment... If things reached that point, I'll... As she's walking, Selina clenched the silk fabric of her skirt.

Soon, she descended the stairs and arrived at a familiar intersection.

After taking note of the time indicated by the grand clock, she turned left from the entrance of the dining hall.

Upon reaching the third door on the right, Selina grasped the doorknob and pushed it open, revealing a room adorned with a sofa not far from the curtained window and a full-length mirror in the corner, and wardrobes and shoe racks neatly occupying the remaining space.

She took the sofa, and patiently waits for her tailoress as her gaze fixated at the scenery beyond the veiled window.

It didn't took long before that tailoress arrived.

Standing by the door frame, the girl's height is an inch lower than Selina, having a set of black eyes and soft fluffy brown hair. She wore a worker's outfit, consisted of a short dress with needles strewn over the skirt, holding a suitcase containing sewing kits and portable stitcher.

She's not a replica... right? Selina's eyes narrowed in suspicion, before relaxing them in thought, Even if she is, she wouldn't lay a hand on me, because I'm what their after...

"Lady Ivory, I will now measure your body" The girl said in a respectful tone. "Please stand in front of the mirror"

Selina followed her instructions, and awaited by the full-length mirror.

In the reflection, she saw the beautiful and gorgeous Selina once more. Guilt filled her heart as she gaze into the mirror.

...

Steam Train Station, North District of Tingen City.

A line of cargo carriages had arrived, crowding the platform as workers unloaded crates from the incoming steam trains.

Some were filled with raw materials and supplies; others were emptied, waiting to be reused.

Among the bustle stood Hafgard, a seasoned Mandated Punisher and one of Alger's trusted allies. He had been personally tasked by Alger to inspect the incoming crates destined for Tingen—to keep an eye out for any unusual objects or hidden letters.

Bound by a long-standing debt and years of camaraderie, Hafgard took the assignment to heart, devoting his entire day to the search.

But as dusk crept in, his confidence began to wane. Crate after crate yielded nothing—just hollow containers, barren of any clues.

What exactly was Mr. Wilson hoping I'd find? Hafgard mused, furrowing his brow. The request was unusual, even for Alger.

Finally, the last train rolled into the station.

It carried a final stack of empty wooden crates. Hafgard and his fellow Punishers sprang into motion, prying open each one with quiet urgency.

Then—A shout.

One of the Punishers had found something: a pair of silver buttons, wedged deep into the corner of a crate. Blood had stained their polished surface.

Etched into the silver were miniature leaves and flowers, curling around a bold, capital V—the unmistakable emblem of the Ivory family.