Julie and Kitturian set off, he moving with the steady patience of long practice, she already five steps ahead and looking back. The situation called for seriousness, but Julie couldn’t help the thrill that bubbled beneath. A real investigation! She squared her shoulders, ready to wring every ounce of purpose from the moment.

  “I’ll need to question the rest of the staff,” Kitturian said. “Care to lead the tour?”

  “I’m on it! Come with me. We’ll talk to everyone,” Julie said.

  And so, Julie guided Kitturian through the mansion, pausing at each servant as if presenting exhibits in a carefully curated gallery. Each one received the same interrogation — how long they had been employed, their duties, a recount of their morning routine, and if anything unusual had caught their eye.

  Each took turns describing their day. Mrs. Moreau lingered particularly on the proper arrangement of the dinner napkins, while Jules devoted three minutes to explaining why the third step from the top needed an extra sweep. Not one of them stumbled over anything out of the ordinary.

  “Is there anyone else left to question?” Kitturian asked.

  “Only Jonas, the gardener,” Julie said. “But his duties keep him in the garden all morning, so it’s probably not worth talking to him. I doubt he’d have seen or heard anything.”

  “Probably not worth it? That’s usually code for ‘I don’t feel like trying.’ Let’s have a chat, shall we?”

  Off to the garden they went. And there he was, the gardener, in his natural habitat among the roses, daisies, and geraniums, tending to them with skilled hands.

  He was a young man, with a rugged face tanned by the sun and a head full of dark hair. He had the sort of unassuming charm that sneaks up on you, much like a well-pruned hedge—not startling at first glance, but surprisingly pleasing upon closer inspection.

  “Good day,” he greeted them. “What can I do for you?”

  “Hey Jonas,” Julie said. “I know you’re probably busy, but Mr. Kitturian and I are trying to piece together what happened with Madam Nerivana’s heirloom. Mind if we chat for a minute?”

  “Ah, yes. I’ve heard about the whole Rose situation.”

  “And I’m telling you right now - Rose’s innocent! Just watch. We’re going to prove it and set things right.”

  “Right, right,” Jonas said. “Well, I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “Walk me through your morning,” Kitturian said. “Anything stand out? Odd, misplaced, or just plain wrong?”

  “Morning was the usual,” Jonas said. “Started off early, got the watering done, did some weeding around the garden. Nothing out of the ordinary, if you ask me. But then again, I’m usually focused on the buds and blooms, not the goings-on inside the house.”

  Suddenly, Kitturian's eyes narrowed, his nose twitched, and his mouth opened slightly. Julie saw the signs and took a step back, but the sneeze never came out.

  “May I ask, are you familiar with Rose?” Kitturian asked, as if nothing had happened.

  “Oh yes, we’ve chatted a few times,” Jonas said. “But as I said, I’m mostly focused on the plants and such.”

  “Do you believe she could have stolen the Star?”

  Jonas glanced upward briefly, not to the sky but to some invisible point, as if something there might hold the answer.

  “I don’t know, sir,” he finally said. “But from what I can see, she’s a hardworking and honest girl. I hope everything works out for everyone.”

  “Everyone?” Kitturian said.

  “Ah, yes, sir,” Jonas said. “I mean, I hope everything turns out well for Madam Nerivana and, of course, for Rose, too.”

  Suddenly, Jonas stiffened. His eyes darted across the garden as though something just beyond the edge of his vision had caught his attention. It took no great effort for Julie to piece together the cause of his reaction. Mrs. Lyrana had appeared in the garden.

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  “Right then, best get back to work,” Jonas said. “Lots to do in the garden, you know. Good luck with everything.”

  Kitturian and Julie thanked Jonas and strolled away, leaving him to tend to his flowers once again. They had barely taken a few steps before Julie, unable to resist, offered her inevitable ‘I told you so.’

  “I told you we wouldn’t learn anything,” she said. “Now Mrs. Lyrana’s going to call him out for wasting time with us. Poor guy.”

  “He’ll live,” Kitturian said. “More importantly, what hasn’t he told us that we need to know?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Something he didn’t mention. A detail, no matter how small, could make all the difference.”

  “Like I said. Jonas is a nice guy. He wouldn’t hide anything from us.”

  “Emotions cloud judgement. Set them aside, focus. You want to help your cousin, don’t you? Then think.”

  The words landed squarely, and Julie, usually quick to respond, found herself holding onto the silence for a moment longer than usual. She pondered for a bit and then it came to her—a small, insignificant detail, but perhaps important enough to share.

  “Um… he’s seemed kind of frustrated lately,” she said. “I mean, he’s always had his issues with Madam Nerivana, but now? It’s like he’s seriously thinking about leaving. Honestly, who could blame him? She makes everything ten times harder than it needs to be.”

  “Wants everything to work out for someone he can’t stand? The complexity of hatred just got more fascinating.”

  “Uh?” Julie said.

  “Never mind. Let’s have a word with Mrs. Lyrana, shall we?”

  §

  Mrs. Lyrana had stretched out in her long chair, a small furry creature tucked into the curve of her arm in a peaceful partnership. It looked like a squirrel, but with a certain polish that made ordinary squirrels look unfinished.

  It had four limbs, big, soulful eyes, pointy ears, and a long, elegant tail. Its velvety fur could change shades to match its surroundings. Quite the clever little creature. The Zylari took great satisfaction in owning them, though the cost meant not all did.

  As for Julie, she was not a fan. They were cute, sure, but also a bit too clever for her liking. She much preferred her pets to be simple and straightforward, like a good old-fashioned dog.

  “Mrs. Lyrana, isn’t it?” Kitturian said. “Apologies for blocking the sun, but we need a moment of your time.”

  “Must you?” Mrs. Lyrana said.

  “Yes, I must. And with any luck, you’ll make it worth my while by sharing something helpful.”

  “About my mother’s precious heirloom, I presume. What is there to tell? Isn’t that servant girl the culprit?”

  “Rose is innocent,” Julie said.

  “Both options could be true,” Kitturian said. “That’s the whole point of an investigation, isn’t it? You gather the facts, you examine them, and only then do you let the truth emerge. Anything less is guesswork. Now, about Jonas…how close are you, exactly?”

  There was the faintest jerk of Mrs. Lyrana’s head, as if the question had struck somewhere she had not expected. The suggestion seemed to hover in the air, waiting for her to recognize it as something that made sense.

  “Relationship?” she said. “I hardly have a relationship with servants. They are paid to do a job, not to become friends.”

  “Of course,” Kitturian said. “And Rose? I assume she falls in the ‘job, not friend’ category?”

  “Correct.”

  “Heard or saw anything this morning that struck you as odd?”

  “Nothing at all.”

  Kitturian turned its attention to the small creature, which was now happily nibbling on a piece of fruit from Mrs. Lyrana’s hand.

  “And what’s the name of your little sidekick?” he asked.

  “His name is Breechy,” Mrs. Lyrana said with a fond smile.

  “Breechy,” Kitturian said. “Clever name for a clever little thing, I’m guessing?”

  Mrs. Lyrana’s smile grew even wider. “Yes, he’s quite the little genius among his kind. He can do all sorts of tricks, don’t you know? Fetch, roll over, shake hands, even balance a treat on his nose and catch it in mid-air.”

  Kitturian let loose a tremendous “ACHOO!”. Julie and Mrs. Lyrana started, a brief moment of shared surprise passing between them.

  “Bless you,” Mrs. Lyrana said.

  “Thank you,” Kitturian said. “And what can you tell me about the Star?”

  “Nothing you don’t already know. It’s been in our family for generations, a prized possession of my mother’s. She’s quite adamant about preserving our heritage and memories through it. But between you and me, I don’t see the point. The whole affair is rather trivial.”

  “Maybe it’s trivial to you, but it’s not to Rose,” Julie said.

  “And what are you even doing here?” Mrs. Lyrana said. “Shouldn’t you be attending to your duties?”

  “Miss Julie is helping with the investigation,” Kitturian said. “Family loyalty, it seems, is her primary motivation.”

  Mrs. Lyrana’s eyes lost their frost for a moment, and in that brief space she looked almost pleasant.

  “Rose has a true friend in you,” she said. “But if my mother has already made up her mind about Rose’s guilt, there’s little anyone can do to sway her. I can try to reason with her, but I can’t make any promises.”

  “Really?,” Julie exclaimed.

  “Is it so hard to believe that I can be reasonable? But this investigation of yours is a waste of time. No one cares about that trinket of an heirloom. Surely a detective of your caliber must have more exciting cases to solve.”

  “Oh, I have those too,” Kitturian said. “But sometimes the small puzzles are the ones that crack the biggest secrets.”