The grandfather clock in Maximilian's study chimed eleven as he pored over personnel records spread across his antique desk. The night was half gone already, and they had a list of twenty-three staff members who required questioning.

  "This would be so much easier if we could just compel them to tell the truth," Elias sighed, perched on the edge of Maximilian's desk in a way that would have horrified traditional vampire nobility. He absently plucked a grape from the small bowl of fruit he kept nearby—a necessity given his unusual need for actual food alongside blood.

  Maximilian looked up from his meticulous notes, adjusting his completely unnecessary gsses. "Actually, I might have something that could help. Though I haven't tested it in decades."

  "Let me guess," Elias said with a bemused smile. "Another mysterious artifact from your collection that's probably going to explode or trap us in a temporal loop or something equally dramatic?"

  "That was one time," Maximilian protested, his schorly dignity somewhat wounded. "The force field incident was a simple calibration error. And technically we were only trapped for four hours and twenty-three minutes."

  "And seventeen seconds," Elias added with perfect recall. "You counted aloud the entire time. It was oddly endearing."

  A faint pink flush crossed Maximilian's face—one of the few vampires who could still blush after feeding. He stood and walked to a seemingly ordinary bookshelf, pulling a specific volume halfway out. The entire shelf silently slid aside, revealing a hidden storage area.

  "Is there any furniture in this pce that doesn't have a secret compartment?" Elias asked, sliding off the desk to follow.

  "The settee in the east drawing room," Maximilian answered without irony. "Though now that you mention it, that does seem like an oversight."

  From the hidden compartment, he carefully extracted what appeared to be a small silver box with intricate circuitry visible beneath a gss panel on top. Tiny lights blinked in seemingly random patterns.

  "Pre-evolution technology," Maximilian expined, his voice taking on the enthusiastic tone it always did when discussing his collections. "It measures minute changes in pulse, perspiration, pupil dition, and vocal stress patterns to determine if someone is being deceptive. The military was testing these before everything changed."

  Elias peered at the device with genuine curiosity. "And it still works? After all this time?"

  "I've maintained it, of course. Repced the power cells, recalibrated the sensors. In theory, it should function perfectly." Maximilian paused. "In theory."

  "Your confidence is overwhelming," Elias said dryly, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.

  They set up their impromptu interrogation center in Maximilian's private study. The night butler, Morris, was dispatched to summon staff members one by one under the pretense of a "security review."

  The first to enter was a thin, nervous-looking man who had joined the kitchen staff just two months earlier—conveniently close to when the assassination preparations would have begun.

  "Sit, please," Maximilian said, attempting to sound authoritative but coming across more like a librarian asking someone to return an overdue book.

  The kitchen worker perched anxiously on the edge of his chair, eyes darting between his Duke and the unusual contraption on the desk.

  "This is merely a formality," Elias expined smoothly, slipping into the role of charming intermediary. "We're conducting these interviews with all staff members as part of our regur security protocols."

  "Yes, m'lord," the man replied, fidgeting with his uniform cuff.

  Maximilian activated the device, which emitted a soft hum and dispyed a series of flickering lights. "State your name and position, please."

  "Thomas Mercer, second assistant to the night chef, Your Grace."

  The device's lights remained steady.

  "How long have you worked in my household?"

  "Two months and four days, Your Grace."

  Again, no change in the device's dispy.

  Maximilian consulted his list of prepared questions with schorly precision. "Have you ever communicated with anyone from Archduke Orlov's territory?"

  "No, Your Grace," Thomas answered, his eyes fixed on the blinking device.

  Suddenly, all the lights on the device fshed red, and it emitted a shrill beep that made everyone in the room jump.

  "Ah!" Maximilian excimed, startled by the sudden noise. "It appears there's a discrepancy in your statement."

  The kitchen worker paled. "I... I can expin, Your Grace! My sister married a footman who works for a Baron in Archduke Orlov's territory. We exchange letters about family matters only, I swear!"

  The device's lights settled back to a calm blue pattern.

  "Truth," Maximilian noted, writing in his journal.

  Elias leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. To Maximilian's surprise, he noticed a subtle shimmer in the air—the tell-tale sign of Elias using his illusion abilities.

  "Are you certain you've never passed information about Duke Maximilian's household to anyone outside this territory?" Elias asked, his voice taking on that musical quality it had when he used his powers.

  The kitchen worker's eyes seemed to lose focus for a moment as the illusion took hold—nothing overt, just a subtle suggestion that complete honesty was the only option.

  "Never, m'lord. I'm grateful for my position here. The Duke treats us better than any noble I've served."

  The device remained steadily blue.

  "Truth," Maximilian confirmed, making another note.

  This pattern continued for the next hour—staff member after staff member answering questions while the device blinked and occasionally beeped. Elias subtly enhanced each interrogation with his illusions, creating an atmosphere where deception felt impossible.

  By midnight, they had interviewed eight staff members without discovering any infiltrators. Maximilian's methodical approach meant each interview followed the exact same pattern, which was thorough but increasingly tedious.

  "Perhaps we should vary the questions a bit," Elias suggested during a brief break. "They all seem to expect what's coming next."

  "Deviation from the established protocol could introduce variables that—" Maximilian began, then stopped himself. "Actually, you might be right. A skilled spy would have prepared answers for standard questions."

  The ninth interviewee was a tall, elegant woman who served as the night librarian—a position that would give her access to many of Maximilian's most valuable books and records.

  "Lady Eliza Kent, head night librarian," she stated in response to the first question, her posture perfect and her expression composed.

  As the questioning progressed, Elias grew increasingly suspicious of her too-perfect responses. He intensified his illusions subtly, creating a gentle pressure toward honesty.

  "Have you ever removed any documents from the Duke's private collection?" Maximilian asked.

  "Never, Your Grace," she replied smoothly.

  The device suddenly went haywire—lights fshing in rainbow patterns, emitting a series of beeps and whistles that sounded almost like a carnival game.

  "I... what?" Maximilian stared at the device in confusion, tapping it carefully. "That's never happened before."

  Lady Eliza's composure cracked slightly. "I can expin, Your Grace!"

  "You've stolen documents?" Maximilian asked, looking genuinely hurt. His collection was sacrosanct to him.

  "No! I would never!" she insisted, and the device immediately returned to a calm blue state.

  Maximilian and Elias exchanged confused gnces.

  "Then what caused the device to react?" Elias asked.

  Lady Eliza's perfect posture slumped slightly, and she lowered her eyes. "I... may have borrowed a book from your private collection, Your Grace. Just overnight! I returned it before dawn, and it was never damaged or removed from the estate."

  "Which book?" Maximilian asked, his schorly curiosity overriding any concern about the breach of protocol.

  "The illustrated manuscript on ancient Roman architecture," she admitted. "The one with the gold leaf detailing on the column diagrams."

  Maximilian blinked in surprise. "That's one of my favorites as well. The craftsmanship in those illustrations is exceptional."

  The conversation derailed completely as the Duke and his librarian unched into an enthusiastic discussion about illuminated manuscripts, leaving Elias watching with bemused affection.

  After Lady Eliza was dismissed with nothing more than a gentle reminder about proper borrowing procedures, Elias couldn't help but ugh. "You're supposed to be investigating potential spies, not starting a book club."

  "Knowledge should be shared," Maximilian sniffed, though he smiled slightly. "Besides, anyone with that level of appreciation for proper binding techniques couldn't possibly be working for Orlov. Have you seen the state of their archives? Disgraceful."

  The interrogations continued with the next staff member, a young man named James who worked in the garage maintaining Maximilian's collection of luxury cars.

  "State your name and position," Maximilian began the usual routine.

  "James Parker, vehicle maintenance specialist," the young man replied, his hands twisting nervously in his p.

  The device immediately erupted in fshing red lights.

  "That's... odd," Maximilian said, studying the dispy. "The device indicates deception, but that should be a straightforward factual statement."

  Elias leaned forward, his illusion subtly intensifying. "Is James Parker your real name?"

  "Yes, m'lord!" the young man insisted, and the device fshed even more vigorously.

  "But you're not actually a vehicle maintenance specialist?" Maximilian guessed.

  "I am! I take care of all the cars in the garage!" Again, the device indicated deception.

  Elias and Maximilian exchanged gnces. This was getting nowhere.

  "Perhaps the device is malfunctioning," Maximilian admitted reluctantly, reaching to turn it off.

  As his hand touched the device, it emitted a shower of sparks and a high-pitched whine before the dispy went completely dark.

  "Ah," Maximilian said, withdrawing his hand quickly. "That... hasn't happened before."

  In the sudden silence following the device's dramatic failure, they heard hurried footsteps in the hallway outside. A moment ter, the study door burst open, and another staff member—Robert from the night security team—rushed in, looking panicked.

  "James! Are you alright? I heard—" He stopped abruptly, taking in the scene before him: James sitting in the interrogation chair, the smoking device on the desk, and the startled faces of the Duke and his consort.

  "I... apologize for the interruption, Your Grace," Robert said, bowing hastily. "I was concerned when James didn't return from his interview."

  "Interesting," Elias said, a smile pying at the corners of his mouth. "The device was responding to emotional stress, not deception about identity or occupation."

  Maximilian looked between the two staff members, comprehension dawning slowly. "Oh. Oh. I see."

  James and Robert exchanged a gnce that confirmed everything.

  "We... we didn't mean to deceive you, Your Grace," James said quickly. "We just thought it best to keep our retionship private."

  "We weren't sure how such matters were viewed in noble households," Robert added cautiously.

  Maximilian looked genuinely confused. "Why would I care about your personal retionship? As long as you both perform your duties effectively, your private matters are your own concern."

  The tension in the room eased visibly as both staff members rexed.

  "Though I would appreciate if you didn't damage any of the vehicles during... private moments," Maximilian added as an afterthought, causing James to blush furiously.

  Elias burst out ughing. "And here we thought we might have uncovered Orlov's master spies. Instead, we found nothing more sinister than a romance between the garage specialist and the security guard."

  After dismissing the embarrassed but relieved couple, Elias turned to Maximilian with an amused expression. "Perhaps we should reconsider our investigative approach. At this rate, we'll uncover every secret romance in the household before we find any actual infiltrators."

  Maximilian prodded the smoking device with a pencil. "I might need to recalibrate this. Or possibly repce it entirely." He looked up with a hint of vulnerability in his expression. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to help me test a new version? Your illusion abilities could be quite useful in the calibration process."

  "Are you asking me to help you build a better lie detector?" Elias asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "I'm asking you to help me protect our home," Maximilian answered simply.

  The word 'our' hung in the air between them, significant and weighty. Neither commented on it directly, but Elias's smile softened.

  "I suppose I could clear my extremely busy social calendar," he said with mock reluctance. "Though I expect proper credit in your research notes. 'Lord Elias, invaluable contributor and savior from technological disasters.'"

  "I was thinking more along the lines of 'minor technical consultant,'" Maximilian replied with unusual quickness, adjusting his gsses to hide his smile.

  "We'll negotiate the specifics," Elias said, reaching out to briefly touch Maximilian's hand—a gesture that would have been scandalously intimate in traditional vampire courts but had become natural between them.

  The grandfather clock chimed one in the morning, reminding them that they still had fourteen staff members to interview before dawn.

  "Shall we continue with the old-fashioned method?" Maximilian asked, gesturing to his meticulously prepared question list. "Your illusions seem effective enough on their own."

  "As my consort commands," Elias replied with an exaggerated bow that made Maximilian roll his eyes.

  As Morris opened the door to admit the next staff member, Elias whispered, "Though I make no promises about not uncovering more scandalous love affairs. Who knew your household was such a hotbed of romance?"

  "Please don't use the word 'hotbed' in this context," Maximilian murmured back, causing Elias to stifle another ugh.

  For all their efforts, they found no infiltrators that night—only the ordinary secrets that exist in any household. The true spies, if they existed, remained hidden. But the evening had revealed something perhaps more valuable: the growing partnership between a schorly vampire and his unexpectedly perfect match, working side by side against whatever threats might come.