Penny and Damien had taken the parchment to the study room when the butler came in with a man who had designed the architecture of the entire town.
“Master Damien, Jerome Wells is here,” the butler announced, bowing his head and then walking out of the room leaving the curly black-haired man. Penny noticed that the man was a vampire, his features humble in appearance where he stood with a questioning expression on his face.
“Damien Quinn,” Damien gave his hand to the man and the man shook back. He looked at Penny and said, “This is Penelope.”
“Jerome Wells,” the man introduced which they already knew, “I heard it was something about the council?”
“Yes. Please take a seat, Mr. Wells,” Damien raised his hand pointing towards the empty seat at the front of the desk. As Jerome took a seat, he caught his own architectural designed blueprint of one of the towns which he had been asked to rebuild a few months ago, “I believe you recognize this?” Damien asked the man.
“Yes, this is my own,” Jerome answered, his expression still confused as to why he was called.
“I am aware of your work in high society, you have a good name when it comes to building and remodeling houses. Could you tell us how you came up with this design and what was the need to demolish the villages?” he asked the man who sat in front of him.
Penny stood near the wall, her hand crossed against her chest as she waited for the man to speak. The man looked genuinely confused but one could never say when it came to the part to act to know if the person was lying or speaking the truth. She wondered if he had anything to do with the witches as he now claimed to have done this blueprint but then again, which idiot ever accepted that they were the ones to do the markings?”
The man named Jerome smiled, “Mr. Quinn you should already be aware that we architects at least one like me don’t have permission to demolish the villages. It comes from a higher authority. The magistrate approached me asking to rebuild the entire village and that we would be repeating the same with the other villages that need to be developed,” Damien who was leaning back in his seat came forward.
“Which magistrate?” Damien asked, his eyes narrowing when Jerome answered,
“Mr. Grinderval. He was the one who came to me. It must be more than eight to nine months. The buildings are the way I usually build but if you are asking for the designs, he brought it to me with specifications.”
“What specifications were those?”
Jerome gave a thoughtful expression as he recollected the items, “He said he needed the plumbing to happen in a certain way. He came many times to check if it was going as he was told.”
“Told?” Damien’s eyebrows rose up at the chain link that was moving up right now.
Usually, the higher-ups didn’t bother to check with how the buildings had to be built and what criteria had to be used. The work was left in the hands of the village or town magistrate who would handle minuscule jobs like this while they had other important matters to deal with.
“I do remember the magistrate bringing it up once or twice but I don’t remember who it was, it was one of the councilmen though,” Damien didn’t know why but he had the gut feeling on who was behind it.
“You wouldn’t mind if we borrowed more of your time, would you?” Damien smiled, standing up from his seat and walking around.
“I don’t but what’s going on?” Jerome asked, standing up himself.
“The town you built is nothing less to a graveyard.”
“What?” Jerome couldn’t believe it.
Penny took the time to explain as Damien was already reaching out for the door, “Mr. Wells, the architecture which was asked to be made is a layout which is used by the black witches to start a ritual and create the massacre. What you built was intentionally made for the benefit of the black witches. When did the villagers move back?”
“I have no clue, Miss. My job was to build the town and I did it,” he answered her question as they started to walk out of the study room, making their way through the corridors and to the hall.
Damien said something to the butler who quickly nodded his head and ran out of the door and towards the shed to get the carriage prepared. The couple went up to get their coats while also wanted to discuss what they heard from the architect, leaving Jerome Wells standing in the hall.
At the same time, Lady Maggie who had only stepped out of the dining room almost crashed her back against the man who was standing. With quick footwork, she stepped away to meet his gaze.
His brighter colored red eyes curiously looked at her, gazing at the woman who had stopped walking, “Are you alright?” he asked her.
Maggie didn’t know who this man was. His curly black hair stood out the most from his appearance and a certain warmth in the eyes that was directed towards her. Instead of replying with what he asked her, she responded with,
“Who are you?”
“I am Jerome Wells. Mr. Quinn wanted to speak to me. And you?”
“Maggie Quinn. Daughter of Mr. Quinn.”
“Oh, I didn’t know Mr. Damien had a daughter,” the man gave out a surprised look. Maggie in return stared at the man.
“Damien is not my father but my brother. My father is very much alive,” she corrected the man.
Jerome smiled, “I know. I was only testing,” he stated to see the woman press her lips.
“You shouldn’t test or assume,” idiot, thought Maggie in her mind.
“Did you say something?” he asked and her eyes widened. Could he read her mind? She surely didn’t speak out loud, not the last word at least.
“No,” Maggie stood there, unable to close the conversation like she always did. Hearing the footsteps from the stairs, she took the opportunity to bow her head at the man to receive an equal bow before she quickly walked out of there.
