CHAPTER 451: HAIR

Dragomir stood in front of a mirror that was just as tall as he was, adjusting his collar and pins for the special night to come.

Right behind him, Lauden watched intently as the Lord’s fingers moved with the precision of a surgeon.

Darrick was a man that had a great eye for detail, always planning everything to the last letter, very meticulously so.

He did manage to hide the existence of his daughter for over a century after all.

"How long will it take Anastasia to be ready?" the Lord asked without taking his eyes off his vest.

"As you know, my Lord, the Lady has always loved taking her time to get ready for such occasions," Lauden bowed lightly.

"No, of course, I know that, but still... I should have started getting dressed an hour or so from now,"

In reply, Lauden merely chuckled which got no reaction out of Darrick.

However, the silence ate at the inner walls of the servant as patience was never his forte. That was one thing he envied his Lord for. Whenever the man set a plan into motion, he was good at sitting back and waiting for its fruits to ripen.

Lauden wasn’t anything like that and so, he stood on the invisible nails beneath his feet until a pair of hasty feet tapping the floor reached their ears.

"I wonder what that’s for," Darrick buttoned his cuffs as he spoke.

Sure enough, a knock landed upon the doors shortly after that. A butler marched inside as soon as permission to enter was given to him.

"My Lord," he bowed, "This package has been sent with your attention in mind," forward he extended a small, white box.

"Who does it come from then?" the Lord eyed the thing intently, clearly debating whether to take it or otherwise.

"We do not know. In fact," the butler cleared his throat, "The messenger appears quite confused as to how they even got here,"

"Is that so?" that seemed to put a chip on Dragomir’s shoulder.

The Lord neared the butler and took the box out of his hands with care.

"Has the box been inspected?" he asked.

"We followed the usual protocol when receiving any package or letter from an unidentified source and no danger seems to plague it," the butler nodded.

"You may take your leave," Dragomir dismissed him without taking his eyes off the package, "But keep this messenger for... Questioning. Just in case,"

He raised it up and flipped it in every which way was possible. It remained sealed with only his full name scribbled in black ink at the bottom.

"If the detection spells we use say it is safe then perhaps opening it isn’t such a bad idea," Lauden suggested.

Darrick gave him a dubious look in response, which prompted the servant to apologize.

In the end, Dragomir had enough of fondling the box and shaking it to hear what sound its contents would make.

Very carefully, his fingers broke the crestless seal and began lifting the cover off of it.

It took everything in Lauden not to yell at him to open it already for his nerves could stomach it not a second longer.

But his patience was well rewarded. The look of horror that appeared gradually on Dragomir was worth every hour, every minute and second of wait.

Indeed, the moment the Lord’s eyes landed upon the content, the twitching and twisting of his features began, erasing every ounce of poise so carefully curated to be on display by that man.

A strand of hair lay at the heart of the box. A strand of beautiful, soft, red hair.

"Hair?"

Lauden gave his Lord a verbal nudge as the man appeared lost somewhere far away from their realm.

But Darrick’s attention quickly returned to the hair which he picked up between his fingers.

"I might be mistaken, my Lord, but this hair looks familiar," he piled on.

"You are not mistaken," Dragomir whispered, "This is Allegra’s hair,"

Bringing it up to his nose, the man took a long and deep whiff of it, "It is definitely hers,"

And there it was! That was exactly what Lauden sought from the get-go; to watch him squirm and ponder the fate of the daughter he so carefully hid from everyone since her very birth.

"Why would anyone send a strand of her hair to you when they should be sending it to Persephone instead?" Lauden walked closer to him, eyes on those twisted features ruining his demeanor, "Do you think they sent a piece of her to everyone that ever interacted with her?"

A second look of horror took over the man. The heart in his chest refused to simmer, battering its cage in every direction.

"Well," Lauden made sure to only stare at the hair in his hand when speaking, "I sure hope they stuck to cutting strands of her hair and no other parts of her body if that is the case,"

Those words earned him a scathing glare before his Lord’s attention returned to the hair once more. Darrick’s breathing grew more and more erratic under Lauden’s amused gaze.

"Should I go ahead and send Lady Persephone a word about this development?" the servant asked.

"You will do no such thing!" Darrick grunted, "Bring me this messenger right this moment!"

Lauden did not argue and exited the room, heading straight towards one of their interrogation rooms.

A somewhat familiar voice came along, letting him know exactly where he needed to look.

"I do not know how that happened. I swear!" the boy said time and time again.

For the task, Lauden picked a very young vampire to carry the mission. Those were more susceptible and vulnerable to the weakest of confusion spells.

In other words, since Elphaba knew her craft, that boy wasn’t going to remember a thing from their interaction even if Morgana herself intervened.

"He is coming with me," said Lauden the moment he opened the door there, "The Lord wishes to speak with him,"