The burning portrait of her father proved distraction enough to pause her. Canvas paper curls black around his face, and she fears it to be an omen. Finding Oren and Oriana pooled in blood was devastating and reason enough to want Howe dead, but this… This was infuriating. This was her home, her entire life now uprooted by the man they once called friend. Cecilia's hand tightens around the hilt of her dagger as she stares down at the burning portrait.
"Darling." Eleanor rouses her attention behind her. "We'll find him."
The fire burned on throughout the night.