Chapter 11: A Cornered Wolf

A desperate man is still dangerous.

But a cornered wolf?

That’s when it’s at its most reckless.

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The Escape

The halls of the palace were quieter than usual.

Not in the way of peace, but in the way of suppressed chaos.

Gregor was gone.

By the time the King’s soldiers arrived at his estate to place him under official investigation, they had found nothing but a half-empty wine glass and a chamber stripped of important documents.

No trace. No explanation.

A man who had once commanded the military had suddenly turned into a ghost.

The court was in an uproar.

Reynard and his supporters demanded immediate action, while the King ordered a full-scale search.

But I already knew.

Gregor hadn’t vanished.

He was running.

And I knew exactly where he was going.

---

The Spy’s Report

Later that night, my spy sat across from me in my chambers, one leg crossed over the other, golden eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

“You were right,” she said, resting her chin on her palm. “Gregor slipped out through the eastern gate before dawn. Fake identity, small escort, no banners.”

I smiled slightly. “Clever. Not clever enough.”

She shrugged. “I followed one of his men. They bought supplies and maps for the northern roads.”

Ah. So that’s where he was going.

The northern provinces were less controlled by the crown, more influenced by private military groups. If Gregor was running there, it meant he was seeking refuge with mercenaries.

He was trying to rebuild.

That wouldn’t do.

I leaned forward, my voice calm. “Send word to our ‘friends’ in the north.”

Her grin widened. “You want them to slow him down?”

I took a sip of my wine. “I want them to give him hope. Let him believe he still has a chance.”

I met her gaze.

“Then, when he feels safe—we take everything away.”

---

Evelyn’s Suspicion

The next morning, Evelyn found me.

Again.

She had a habit of appearing just when things got interesting.

She leaned against the stone railing of the palace terrace, gazing out over the gardens. Casual, yet calculating.

“You seem very calm,” she murmured.

I smiled. “Should I not be?”

She exhaled slowly. “Lord Gregor has disappeared. The court is restless. And yet, you—”

She turned to face me.

“—look like a man who already knows the outcome.”

I tilted my head slightly. She was getting bolder.

“You think too highly of me, Princess,” I said lightly.

She studied me for a long moment.

Then, she took a step closer. Too close.

A dangerous game.

“I know what you did to Gregor,” she whispered.

Ah. There it was.

I chuckled softly. “Did I do something to him?”

Her lips curved. “You played him like a puppet. Pushed him to make mistakes. Set the stage for his fall.”

She tilted her head.

“And now he’s gone. Tell me, Lucian—did you plan this too?”

I didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, I let the silence stretch between us.

Then, I leaned in slightly.

“I think you give me too much credit, Princess.”

Her violet eyes narrowed.

For the first time, she looked genuinely intrigued.

And intrigued people were dangerous.

---

A New Enemy Watches

By the time evening fell, my network had already sent word.

Gregor had reached a mercenary camp.

They had taken him in.

Fed him. Armed him. Given him hope.

I smiled. Good.

Let him believe he was rebuilding.

Because the moment he stood again—I would make sure he never rose a second time.

But just as I was about to retire for the night, a letter arrived.

Unmarked. No seal. No signature.

I unfolded it, my eyes scanning the short message.

"I see you, little prince. The game has only just begun."

I stared at the words.

Then, I smiled.

So.

Someone new had entered the game.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

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