"Well... dragging up ancient dirt on a Marchioness within the capital might be slightly difficult, but it's not like I can't do it. As long as there is even a microscopic paper trail or a living witness left in this kingdom, I will find it for you."
Heena nodded, but internally, her mind flagged a major loophole in his reassurance.
'As long as there is a record.'
That was the exact problem. If the Marchioness or the Marquis had completely, flawlessly wiped the physical evidence of her past from the imperial archives, Samuel's mortal network wouldn't be able to pull it up. It looked like if the truth was entirely buried in shadows, Heena would have to take matters into her own hands and psychologically pry the secrets out of her mother herself.
Heena took one look at the heavy silver clock ticking on the mantelpiece and decided that, despite the impending doom of a thirteenth-loop regressor, she desperately needed to sleep.
