Chapter 9: In the aftermathThe Month of Noel, Day 15, Year 681 of the Second Holy Calendar

  Following the assassination attempt on Dominic, rumors spread like wildfire across the city, with many believing he was dead. Before grief could even set in, a second rumor emerged—one that named Howard Towers as the mastermind behind the attack. From the perspective of the common folk, this was a more than believable accusation. Howard Towers had been the man who propped up Francis, leading to the disastrous invasion of the Golden Stallions. He was a foreigner, and many suspected he sought to pce his bastard children on the throne.

  As tensions rose, violent protests erupted, demanding justice. The unrest derailed the entire Noel Festival, and when Howard Towers appeared in public alongside the queen—without Dominic, Nora, or Valerius—the protesters became even more frenzied. Some even attempted to kill him on the spot. It was only thanks to the Royal Guard that he was safely escorted back to the Citadel.

  The chaos was quelled only when Veronica personally confirmed the safety of both Dominic and Nora. Swearing a vow to Noel, she promised a full investigation and decred that anyone found guilty of orchestrating the assassination attempt would be executed. Though still dissatisfied, the crowd eventually dispersed. The people of Bck had long been accustomed to obedience, especially where the Royal Family was concerned.

  *****“That concludes my report on the incident,” said Countess Elizabeth Cornelia, sitting back in her chair.

  The true leaders of the militant faction had gathered in a private sitting room. While the faction’s public figureheads—Charles Cornelia, Livia Tallwood, and Valerius Bck—were all prominent individuals, none of them were particurly skilled in politics. To put it bluntly, they were politically inept and indifferent to the workings of governance. As a result, true power within the faction rested in the hands of four women.

  Luce, for all intents and purposes, was treated as Valerius’s wife. She had raised his children, and he had remained faithful to her for the past eight years. Elizabeth Cornelia, wife of the current Major General of the First Division, Charles Cornelia, wielded great influence as well. The Cornelias, one of the most prominent noble families in the kingdom, could raise over 200 knights and were a key pilr of the militant faction. Elizabeth had even served as Nora’s baptismal mother, further strengthening her ties to the royal family.

  The Tallwoods held equal prominence. Livia Tallwood had retired as Countess, passing the title to her brother, who then married Rachel Tallwood—another key leader of the faction. Like the Cornelias, the Tallwoods could raise around 200 knights and had vast wealth and influence.

  The final member of the group was Eliana Neivul, Dominic’s baptismal mother. Though once highly regarded, the Neivuls had suffered a decline in power due to their strained retionship with the royal family. Their misfortune had begun when Eliana’s sister-in-w, a former bodyguard of Prince Francis, was dismissed after scolding him for his poor behavior. Rumors—likely spread by Howard Towers—further damaged their reputation. However, after Francis’s failure and humiliation, public sentiment had shifted. What was once seen as an insult had now become a mark of wisdom and foresight. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. The Neivuls had lost influence, and the only thing preventing their complete downfall was their newfound ties to Dominic through his baptism.

  A betrayal from them would not only be a political disaster—it would be a deeply personal one.

  “There isn’t much more to say on the matter,” Luce remarked, stubbing out her cigarette.

  The four women were all smoking. Though smoking was considered a dirty habit among the nobility, it was a vice that most indulged in, including them.

  “Someone attempted to assassinate my stepchild. We all know who’s behind it, and we all know they won’t be punished.”

  There was a general murmur of agreement.

  “But are we really going to let this go unanswered?” Eliana asked, her tone slightly critical.

  Luce smiled grimly. “Of course not. They’ve taken this conflict too far. They tried to kill children.” The st word trembled out of her mouth with barely contained fury.

  She understood the nature of politics—Dominic and Nora had value simply because of their bloodline, and there would always be those who sought to remove that value. But that did not justify an assassination attempt.

  “The investigation will be handed over to the military police,” she continued, shifting her gaze to Rachel. The Tallwoods controlled the Ministry of Military Affairs, meaning the military police would be under their command.

  “I want every single shop and home owned by the traditionalist faction searched—multiple times. I want violence. Search them every day, even if you find nothing. Search them again and again until you do find something. Drag their leaders away for questioning, even if you don’t have proof.”

  Rachel frowned. “It’s illegal to arrest a noble without proof, especially if they hold a position of power or a council seat.”

  Luce exhaled smoke and smiled coldly. “If they’re going to py dirty, we’ll py dirty too. Don’t worry about retribution—the council is on our side. The militant faction will justify it afterward. No one will be able to raise a fuss.”

  With that, the meeting concluded.

  Luce made her way down the corridors, exhausted from the long day. The assassination attempt had only added to her worries, forcing her into a constant cycle of meetings and reassurances.

  On her way back, she stopped by Nora’s room. The area was locked down—guards stationed at every possible entry point. Thirty knights stood outside the door, ten inside, ten more outside the window. The entire detached pace was under complete lockdown.

  She passed through the heavy security checks, verifying that she was neither under illusion magic nor mental interference. When she finally opened the door, she saw the knights standing at silent attention.

  And in the center of the room, sleeping soundly in the same bed, were Dominic and Nora.

  They looked almost identical when asleep. Normally, their attitudes and behaviors set them apart, but with their eyes closed, the only distinguishing factor was their hair length.

  Even Philine, despite her usual disapproval, had no grounds to object to them sharing a bed under such dire circumstances.

  Luce exhaled softly, feeling a rare moment of relief. Without disturbing them, she quietly left the room.

  *****

  A lone man walked down the halls of the royal pace. His presence was strikingly out of pce.

  The Pace of the Kingdom of Bck was little more than a glorified administrative building—practical, utilitarian, and devoid of unnecessary grandeur. It stood in stark contrast to the man’s appearance.

  Lord Hemon Walton, 40 years old, had been born in the Kingdom of Redtowers. Like many other nobles from his homend, he had been forced to relocate when Howard Towers married Veronica. The Kingdom of Bck needed experienced officials, while Redtowers needed fewer nobles. What was meant to be a strategic arrangement had only resulted in cultural alienation.

  Hemon still clung to memories of his homend—its grand paces, its splendor, its sense of honor. He dressed accordingly, in fine luxurious fabrics that dispyed his status. Here, in the bare stone halls of Bck’s pace, he looked utterly out of pce.

  He arrived at his destination and knocked before entering.

  Inside, Howard Towers sat alone, sipping tea. His blonde hair was streaked with gray, his steel-gray eyes as cold as ever. He was the very man the filthy commoners outside had demanded be put to death.

  “Shut the door behind you,” Howard said coolly.

  Hemon obeyed.

  Neither spoke at first. Hemon had advised against the assassination attempt. Dominic and Nora were too well protected. Their knights had already proven their loyalty and skill during the Golden Stallions invasion. But Howard had insisted. And now, they were paying the price.

  “You were right,” Howard finally admitted. “But what do we do now?”

  Hemon already had an answer. He pulled out a letter, holding it between two fingers.

  It bore a golden wax seal with an embossed antler.