Chapter 10: The Fall of a Lord

The most dangerous blade is not made of steel.

It is made of words.

And tonight, I would use it to end a man.

---

The Court Gathers

The grand hall of Aurelia’s palace was alive with murmurs and hushed conversations. Nobles sat in their usual places, dressed in finery, draped in jewels and arrogance.

Tonight, however, there was tension in the air.

Whispers of Lord Gregor’s secret dealings had begun to spread. Not fully, not completely. Just enough.

Enough to make them doubt him.

And doubt was the first crack in any man’s foundation.

I sat at my designated place—on the outer edge of the court, where a useless prince was expected to remain.

But not for long.

Because tonight, I was not just a spectator.

Tonight, I was the executioner.

---

Gregor’s Last Stand

Gregor entered the chamber, his expression hard, his steps controlled.

But I saw it.

The stiffness in his jaw. The slight tension in his fingers.

He was trying to act as if he still had control.

I almost admired his composure.

Almost.

The King raised a hand, signaling for silence.

“Lord Gregor,” he said, voice steady. “You requested this assembly. Speak.”

Gregor took a breath. “Your Majesty, noble lords and ladies,” he began, his voice carrying the weight of forced confidence.

“As you know, in these uncertain times, the strength of our kingdom must remain unshaken.”

A few nods. Polite agreement. But nothing more.

They were waiting.

Gregor clenched his jaw and continued.

“It has come to my attention that my authority within the military has been… questioned.” His gaze flickered toward Lord Reynard, barely concealing his frustration.

I smiled inwardly. Good. Let that anger simmer.

Gregor straightened. “Which is why I am proposing a renewed military directive. One that ensures stability.”

A ripple of murmurs spread across the hall.

Ah. So he was still trying.

Trying to force the King’s hand, to reclaim control.

Unfortunately for him—he had already lost it.

I glanced toward Lord Reynard.

The older noble sat calmly, his expression carefully composed. But his fingers drummed against the armrest of his chair.

Waiting.

For me.

I leaned forward slightly, catching his eye.

Then, in a soft but precise voice, I spoke.

“Stability,” I mused. “A noble goal.”

Gregor turned sharply, his gaze locking onto me.

I smiled—harmless, unreadable.

“And yet,” I continued, “it seems strange that a man who seeks stability would forge alliances outside of Aurelia.”

Silence.

A pause—sharp, uncertain.

Then, whispers.

Gregor stiffened. “What are you implying, Prince Lucian?”

I tilted my head. “Implying? Nothing. But I do find it curious…”

I turned my gaze to the King, to the court.

“…that a Minister of War would feel the need to seek aid from foreign hands.”

The shift was instant.

Gregor’s face darkened. The nobles exchanged glances of concern.

King Aldric’s gaze narrowed. “Explain.”

And just like that, the stage was mine.

---

The Final Blow

I rose from my seat, moving slowly—controlled, deliberate.

“The kingdom has relied on Lord Gregor for many years,” I said smoothly. “He has served faithfully. Honorably.”

Gregor relaxed slightly, thinking I was defending him.

Fool.

I turned, my expression darkening.

“And yet… when his power began to wane, when his control slipped, he sought aid elsewhere.”

I let my words settle, waiting for the reaction.

Then, finally, I spoke the name.

“Lord Gregor has aligned himself with Lord Ferand Veltris.”

A beat of silence.

Then, chaos.

Gasps. Murmurs. Outrage.

Veltris.

A name that carried weight.

A foreign noble, one known for his dealings with mercenaries and spies. A man who had been caught financing rebellions in Aurelia’s outer territories.

A traitor to the kingdom.

And Gregor had just been exposed as his ally.

---

A Man with No Ground Left to Stand On

Gregor shot to his feet. “This is slander!” he roared.

I barely contained my amusement.

“Slander?” I echoed, tilting my head. “Do you deny it?”

His mouth opened. Closed.

He was trapped. Completely.

Because if he admitted it, he would be branded a traitor.

If he denied it, then why had he met with Veltris in secret?

Checkmate.

King Aldric’s voice cut through the noise. “Enough.”

Silence fell.

The King’s expression was unreadable, but his next words were clear.

“Lord Gregor,” he said, voice heavy, “you will submit to an official inquiry. If this accusation proves true, your position will be revoked.”

Revoked.

A polite word. A merciful word.

But the reality was far worse.

The court had already decided. Gregor was finished.

---

The Aftermath

An hour later, the court had dispersed, leaving behind only whispers.

I stepped onto the balcony overlooking the gardens, inhaling the cool night air.

Then, a familiar presence.

Evelyn.

She moved beside me, quiet, thoughtful.

After a long moment, she finally spoke.

“That was a masterful execution.”

I smiled. “Oh? You think so?”

She turned to face me fully.

“I don’t think,” she murmured. “I know.”

I met her gaze. She wasn’t smiling.

“You did this,” she said softly.

I exhaled. “Did I?”

She took a step closer. “The rumors. The whispers. The timing. It was all too perfect.”

She was testing me again.

I let the silence stretch before finally saying, “Perhaps it was simply fate.”

She didn’t blink. “Do you believe in fate, Prince Lucian?”

I smiled. “I believe in opportunity.”

A pause.

Then, she laughed. Soft. Dangerous.

“You’re terrifying,” she whispered.

I chuckled. “You sound almost impressed.”

She didn’t deny it.

For a moment, we simply stood there—two predators, watching, waiting.

Then, without another word, she turned and disappeared into the night.

I exhaled slowly, watching the shadows swallow her form.

She was dangerous.

But then again—

So was I.

And the game was far from over.

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