Semua Bab The Last Moonbane: Bab 51 - Bab 60

Seraphina’s POVDiantha’s jewelry wasn’t just a personal preference—it was a puzzle piece. One of many. But behind it, there had to be something more. Something deeper. Something dangerous.I didn’t know what it was yet. But that was fine.Because I could find out.I wasn’t the kind of person who confronted problems head-on—at least not until I understood their shape, their pressure points, their cracks. Diantha was careless in the way only the protected could be. That meant someone was protecting her. Or supplying her. Or both.And that meant a thread to follow.I started with Linnea. Quiet, precise Linnea, who could pass through the academy like a breeze through trees—felt but rarely seen. I asked her for background, for names, for patterns in the Tianling family’s sudden rise. I gave her a month. She promised to be subtle.While she worked the outside, I worked from within.Helena wasn’t a lead in the case—I would never place her in that position. She was family. And you don’t drag

Seraphina’s POVThere’s a silence that settles after everything loud has ended.Not the comforting kind, but the kind that makes you realize how much was left unsaid.Final exams had concluded two days ago. As expected, both Stephen and I passed with top marks. The academy halls were finally quiet—tense with the hush of departure. Some students lingered for farewells, but most had already vanished into carriages, shadows, and portals.Stephen and I traveled back together to Moonbane Manor. Our arrival was understated. No grand fanfare, no lined-up staff. That was never our way. We didn’t need ceremony. The weight of the bloodline was ceremony enough.It had only been a year since I left for Loisage. And yet, as we passed through the long-shadowed courtyards and silent marble corridors, something in me tensed—as if I were a guest, not an heir. The stone paths, the high arches, the quiet moonlit chambers… they were unchanged.But I wasn’t.I had left this place as a daughter of legacy.

Seraphina’s POVMy pulse spiked before I even saw what was inside.The auctioneer—or rather, the host representative, a woman with a voice layered in magic—unfolded the cloth.A pendant.Moonshadow stone.Raw-cut, encased in a frame of cold iron etched with archaic sigils.I felt it before I saw it. That subtle drag in the air. The sense of wrongness. It wasn’t just Moonshadow stone. It was Moonbane-forged.Ambrosius shifted slightly beside me.“You recognize it,” I whispered.“So do you.”I didn’t need to see the back of the pendant to know the mark would be there. The tri-moon crest. Faint, nearly rubbed out. But still there.And now it was here, in this place, being passed from one masked hand to another like some common bauble.My teeth ached from how tightly I clenched my jaw.“Do we bid?” I asked.“No,” Ambrosius said. “Not yet.”“Why not?”“Because the moment we sho

Seraphina’s POVThe auction was over.But the consequences hadn't even begun.Ambrosius and I returned through separate sigil gates, as we’d arrived. Not because we had to, but because it was safer that way—less traceable, less noticeable. The floating estate had vanished into clouds before I even looked back. And yet the image of it lingered in my mind like a stain that wouldn’t wash out.Especially the girl.Especially the voice.Back at Moonbane, Helena didn’t ask questions. She never did.But she watched me from across the long breakfast table the next morning, her teacup hovering just slightly off the saucer.“Trouble?” she asked eventually.“Not yet,” I said.But it was coming.I didn’t sleep that night, and not because of guilt.Guilt is a luxury for people who think they could’ve done more.I stayed up cataloging every detail I could recall. Every mask. Every bidder. Every item. Every transaction made with anything other than Lumenite. I listed symbols, seating placements, mic

Seraphina’s POVThere are two kinds of silence.The first is heavy.It sinks in your chest like cold water, dragging you down with it, filling your lungs until all you can do is drown quietly. That was the silence I woke to. The one that came with Linnea’s absence.The second kind is sharp.Like a blade sliding across glass—controlled, deliberate, and waiting for a reason to cut. That was the silence that followed me as I walked through the Moonbane corridors toward the west wing.Ambrosius was waiting.And I had things to sayThe new girl—his girl—had told me where he was. She didn’t give her name, just bowed once and stepped out of my way. Her movements were careful, trained. Someone had prepared her to replace Linnea.That was almost worse than the death itself.The idea that she could be replaced.That we all could.I found Ambrosius in Helena’s private s