Chapter : 1505

  "You asked me what the 'ugly truth' was," Lloyd said. "You looked at the ledgers, but you didn't see. Today, I am going to make you see."

  ----

  Seraphina wiped the sweat from her brow with a lace handkerchief that now seemed laughably delicate for the work she had just done. Her body was humming. It was a strange sensation. Usually, after a magical flare-up, she felt hollowed out, drained. Now, she felt... full. Buzzing. Like a wire carrying a current.

  "What is that?" she asked, nodding at the paper in Lloyd's hand.

  "This," Lloyd said, unfolding it on the small table between them, "is the receipt for your golden cage."

  He smoothed out the paper. He had transcribed the supply manifest for the Orchid House, highlighting the key items.

  "You looked at the household budget," Lloyd said. "You saw numbers. Grain. Wine. Fertilizer."

  "Yes," she said. "It was boring."

  "Boring is the best camouflage," Lloyd noted. "Look here. 'Site B'. Do you remember?"

  "The garden expansion," she said. "Five thousand gold coins."

  "Look at the itemized list," Lloyd said, pointing to his transcription. "I translated the codes for you. 'Fertilizer' is actually alchemical fuel. Highly volatile. Used for high-temperature combustion."

  "Combustion?" Seraphina frowned. "For... heating the greenhouse?"

  "For incinerators," Lloyd said. The word dropped into the room like a stone into a pond.

  Seraphina went still. "Incinerators?"

  "And here," Lloyd continued, his voice devoid of pity. He needed to break her world to save it. " 'Support frames, small'. That translates to restraints. Shackles. Sized for children."

  Seraphina’s hand flew to her mouth. "No. That's... that's impossible. Cassius is strict, yes. He is ambitious. But he wouldn't..."

  "He would," Lloyd said. "And he is. The Orchid House isn't a garden, Seraphina. It's a factory. They are taking children—children with magic, like you—and they are processing them."

  "Processing?"

  "Breaking them," Lloyd said brutally. "Torturing them until their minds shatter and their magic becomes a weapon. And when they break too much... when they die..."

  He pointed to the word Incinerator.

  Seraphina stared at the paper. Her mind tried to reject it. It tried to retreat into the safety of her ignorance. My brother. My family. We are the protectors of the realm.

  But she remembered the coldness in Cassius's eyes. She remembered the way he looked at her, not as a sister, but as an asset to be managed. She remembered the King, her father, weeping and whispering about the darkness.

  "Why?" she whispered. "Why would he do this?"

  "Power," Lloyd said. "He is building an army of monsters to fight a war he thinks is coming. Or perhaps to start one. He doesn't trust the people. He doesn't trust the army. He wants weapons that don't ask questions."

  Lloyd leaned forward.

  "And he is doing it to you, too," he said softly. "Just slower. He isn't putting you in an incinerator. He is putting you in a jar. He bound your magic because a powerful Princess is a threat to a Prince who rules from the shadows. He keeps the King drugged so he can sign the orders. And he keeps you sick so you can't ask why."

  The silence stretched. Lloyd watched her face. He saw the denial crack. He saw the grief pour in. And then, he saw what he was waiting for.

  The grief hardened.

  It crystallized.

  Seraphina looked at the paper again. She didn't look away this time. Her blue eyes, usually soft and watery, darkened. They turned into chips of sapphire ice.

  "He poisoned my father," she said. Her voice was steady. Terrifyingly steady.

  "Yes," Lloyd said.

  "He is torturing children."

  "Yes."

  "And he lied to me. Every day. For three years."

  "Yes."

  Seraphina stood up. She didn't float. She didn't glide. She stood up like a queen rising from a throne. She walked to the window and looked out at the garden. The beautiful, manicured garden that she now knew was paid for with blood money.

  "I thought I was sick," she said to the glass. "I thought I was weak. I thought I needed him to protect me."

  She turned back to Lloyd. The fragile, porcelain doll was gone. In her place was something sharp. Something dangerous.

  "Doctor," she said. "You didn't come here to heal me, did you? You came here to recruit me."

  Lloyd smiled. It wasn't his nice doctor smile. It was a sharp, wolfish grin.

  Chapter : 1506

  "I came to heal you," Lloyd said. "But I realized that the only way to heal you is to cut out the tumor. And the tumor is sitting on the throne."

  "You want to stop him," she stated.

  "I want to burn his operation to the ground," Lloyd corrected. "I want to save those children. And I want to give you back your kingdom."

  "I cannot fight him," Seraphina said. "Not yet. He has the guards. He has the ministers."

  "You don't need to fight him with swords," Lloyd said. "You fight him with who you are. You are the symbol. You are the Light. If you shine... the shadows have nowhere to hide."

  He stood up and bowed. It was the first genuine bow he had given her.

  "But first," Lloyd said, "we need to survive the week. He knows I am helping you. He suspects me. He will try to remove me soon."

  "He will invite you to dinner," Seraphina said. "That is what he does. Private dinners. People go in, and they come out... changed. Or they don't come out at all."

  "I am looking forward to the menu," Lloyd said.

  Seraphina walked over to him. She took the paper with the list of horrors. She folded it carefully and tucked it into her bodice, right next to her heart.

  "You teach me to control the river," she said. "Teach me how to drown him in it."

  "Lesson two starts tomorrow," Lloyd promised.

  He picked up his bag. As he reached the door, she spoke again.

  "Doctor?"

  "Yes, Highness?"

  "My name is Seraphina," she said. "Not Highness. Not Princess. Just Seraphina. If we are going to be conspirators, we should be on a first-name basis."

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  "Lloyd," he said, slipping up for a fraction of a second before catching himself. "Zayn. Just Zayn."

  She smiled. It was a cold smile. A queen's smile.

  "Goodbye, Zayn. Try not to die at dinner."

  Lloyd walked out of the room. He felt a chill run down his spine. He had wanted to create a player. He might have accidentally created a monster.

  But looking at the guards in the hallway, he decided that a monster was exactly what they needed.

  The invitation arrived at the clinic exactly as Seraphina had predicted. It wasn't delivered by a courier or a servant. It was delivered by a squad of the Obsidian Eye.

  Lloyd was measuring out dried valerian root for a customer—an old woman with a persistent cough—when the door opened. The chime didn't jingle; it seemed to be silenced by the sudden drop in air pressure.

  Three figures in black armor stepped in. The customers in the shop evaporated, scuttling out the back door or squeezing past the armored men with their heads bowed low. Even Jasmin, playing the role of Jia, turned pale and backed into the corner, clutching a broom like a weapon.

  The leader of the squad stepped forward. His face was hidden behind a polished obsidian mask.

  "Doctor Zayn," the officer said. His voice was muffled and metallic.

  "That is me," Lloyd said, adjusting his spectacles. He kept his hands visible on the counter. "How can I help the... authorities? A rash? A sprain from marching?"

  "No medical aid is required," the officer said. "You are summoned."

  "Summoned?" Lloyd asked innocently. "By the King?"

  "By the Crown Prince," the officer corrected. "His Highness Cassius invites you to a private dinner this evening. At the Summer Palace."

  "Dinner?" Lloyd blinked. "I am... flattered. But I am a humble man. I do not own formal wear. Perhaps a rain check?"

  The officer didn't laugh. "The carriage is waiting. You will come now."

  "Ah," Lloyd said. "It is that kind of invitation. Very well. Let me just get my coat."

  "No coat," the officer said. "No bag. No tools. Just you."

  Lloyd looked at Ken, who was standing by the back door, his hand resting casually near a hidden knife. Lloyd gave a tiny shake of his head. Stand down.

  "Jia," Lloyd said, turning to Jasmin. "Close up shop. I will return... later."

  "Be careful, Doctor," she whispered, her eyes wide with fear.

  "Always," Lloyd smiled.

  He walked around the counter. "Lead the way, gentlemen. I am famished."

  They escorted him out to a black carriage with no windows. They shoved him inside. The door locked from the outside.

  "Hospitality," Lloyd muttered as the carriage lurched forward. "Five stars."

  Chapter : 1507

  The ride was short but disorienting. Lloyd felt the carriage turn, climb, and descend. When the door finally opened, he wasn't at the main palace. He was at a secluded villa on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by high walls and dense gardens. The Summer Palace. Or, as the rumors called it, the Prince's Playpen.

  He was marched into a dining hall. It was elegant, minimalist, and cold. A long table of black marble sat in the center.

  Prince Cassius sat at the head of the table. He was wearing casual robes of silk, peeling a grape with a small silver knife.

  Standing behind him were two figures. They weren't guards. They wore robes of grey wool, their heads shaved, their eyes milky white and vacant.

  Lloyd’s stomach tightened. Telepaths. The Obsidian Eye's specialized interrogators. Mind-readers.

  "Doctor Zayn," Cassius said, not looking up from his grape. "So kind of you to join me."

  "It was hard to refuse," Lloyd said, bowing. "Your messengers were very... persuasive."

  "Sit," Cassius pointed to the chair opposite him.

  Lloyd sat. The chair was uncomfortable. The table was empty except for a single plate in front of him.

  "You have been spending a lot of time with my sister," Cassius said softly. "And my father."

  "I am treating them," Lloyd said.

  "You are changing them," Cassius corrected. He looked up. His eyes were dead sharks again. "My father is signing warrants. My sister is reading ledgers. They are becoming... active."

  "Health brings energy," Lloyd shrugged.

  "Energy can be misdirected," Cassius said. "I like peace, Doctor. I like quiet. You are noisy."

  He gestured to the grey-robed figures.

  "These are my friends," Cassius said. "They are very good listeners. They don't listen to words. They listen to thoughts."

  Lloyd felt a sudden pressure against his skull. It felt like cold, wet fingers trying to pry open his brain.

  It was a mental attack. A scan. They were looking for deception. They were looking for secrets.

  If they found Lloyd Ferrum in there... if they found the Major General... he was dead.

  Lloyd reacted instantly. He didn't panic. He activated his [Black Ring Eyes]. But he didn't manifest the rings externally. He turned the power inward.

  He created a "Seal of Mental Privacy."

  He visualized a vault door slamming shut around his true self, his memories, his plans. But a blank mind is suspicious. A mind that reflects nothing is a shield. So, on top of the vault, he built a stage.

  He projected a layer of surface thoughts. Shallow, loud, and perfectly crafted for the audience.

  Greed. Ambition. Fear. Money.

  He filled his surface mind with images of gold coins. Of wanting a bigger clinic. Of thinking the Prince was a terrifying but rich opportunity. He thought about how much he hated the cheap wine at the inn. He thought about how he wanted to buy a silk coat.

  The pressure intensified. The telepaths pushed harder.

  "Tell me, Doctor," Cassius said, watching him closely. "Who are you really? Who sent you?"

  "I sent myself!" Lloyd cried out, letting a sheen of sweat appear on his forehead. "I am Zayn! From Rizvan! I came because Saber is where the gold is!"

  Gold. Gold. Power. Don't kill me. Pay me. The thoughts screamed in his head, loud enough for the telepaths to hear.

  The telepaths frowned. One of them leaned forward and whispered to Cassius.

  "He is... shallow, Highness. Simple. He fears you. He wants wealth. His mind is... noisy with greed."

  Cassius raised an eyebrow. He looked disappointed.

  "Just greed?" Cassius asked. "No spies? No revolutionary plots?"

  "I am a doctor!" Lloyd stammered. "I heal people who pay me! The King pays well! You... you have soldiers! I don't want trouble! I just want to retire to a villa by the sea!"

  Cassius studied him. He looked for the crack. He looked for the lie.

  But Lloyd held the Seal tight. The Major General sat in the dark vault, silent and cold, while the greedy Doctor Zayn danced on the stage above.

  "Money," Cassius muttered. "How... pedestrian."

  He popped the grape into his mouth.

  "I expected more," Cassius sighed. "A Zakarian spy, perhaps. Or an assassin. But a greedy peasant? That is almost boring."

  "Boring is safe!" Lloyd yelped. "I like safe! And rich!"

  Cassius smiled. It was the smile of a man who just realized he held the leash.

  "Well then, Doctor," Cassius said. "If it is gold you want... perhaps we can come to an arrangement."

  ----

  Chapter : 1508

  The tension in the room shifted. The telepaths stepped back, their mental probing receding like a low tide. They had tasted the water and found it shallow. Lloyd allowed his shoulders to slump, exhaling a breath of shaky relief that was only half-acted.

  "An arrangement?" Lloyd asked, his voice greedy and hopeful. "What sort of arrangement?"

  Cassius snapped his fingers. A servant appeared from the shadows, placing a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table. The wine was deep red, almost black.

  "You have been treating my father," Cassius said, pouring the wine. "You say he is improving."

  "He is alert," Lloyd said. "Less... foggy."

  "Yes," Cassius said, swirling his glass. "That is a problem. My father is old. His mind is fragile. Clarity... confuses him. It makes him agitated. It makes him make poor decisions."

  He pushed a glass toward Lloyd.

  "I need him calm," Cassius said. "I need him happy. I need him... rested."

  "Rested," Lloyd repeated.

  "Permanently rested?" Lloyd asked, testing the waters.

  "No," Cassius said. "Not dead. Dead kings become martyrs. Dead kings require funerals and successions and chaos. I like him alive. I just need him... quiet. Docile. Pliable."

  He reached into his robe and pulled out a small crystal vial. It contained a clear, viscous liquid.

  "My alchemists make this," Cassius said. "It is a sedative. Very potent. Very hard to detect. It mimics the symptoms of senility."

  He slid the vial across the black marble table. It stopped in front of Lloyd.

  "I want you to mix this into his tonic," Cassius said. "Just a drop a day. It will keep the fog rolling in. It will keep him happy in his chair."

  Lloyd looked at the vial. This was the poison. This was the proof.

  He looked up at Cassius. He let a look of calculation cross his face.

  "This is... risky," Lloyd said. "If I am caught..."

  "You have the Royal Warrant," Cassius pointed out. "You are above suspicion. Besides, who would check? You are the doctor."

  "It goes against the oath," Lloyd muttered, rubbing his chin.

  "The oath doesn't pay for villas by the sea," Cassius said softly.

  He pulled out a heavy purse. He dropped it on the table. The sound of gold clinking against stone was heavy and distinct.

  "Five hundred gold coins," Cassius said. "Now. And another five hundred every month you keep him quiet."

  Lloyd stared at the bag. He licked his lips.

  "And the Princess?" Lloyd asked. "She is... waking up too."

  "Seraphina is a child playing at politics," Cassius sneered. "Treat her headaches. Keep her distracted. If she gets too troublesome... we will up her dosage too. But for now, focus on the King."

  "Five hundred a month," Lloyd whispered.

  He reached out. His hand hovered over the vial.

  Inside his mind, the Major General analyzed the situation. Taking the job solidified his cover. It made him an asset to Cassius, not a threat. It gave him unrestricted access to the King. And, crucially, it gave him control over the poison. He could swap it. He could neutralize it. He could act as the filter.

  If he refused, Cassius would kill him right here. Lloyd knows that this guy won’t abe ble to kill him. But Altamira’s heavyweights are powerful, so he can’t fight with them currently.

  Lloyd grabbed the vial.

  "You have a deal, Highness," Lloyd said, grinning like a shark. "The King will sleep like a baby."

  Cassius smiled. It was a look of pure contempt. He despised Lloyd for taking the bribe, but he trusted him because of it. In Cassius’s world, everyone had a price. A man with a price was a man he could control.

  "Excellent," Cassius said. But before Lloyd could pull his hand back, Cassius grabbed his wrist. A pulse of cold, purple mana shot from the Prince's hand into Lloyd's arm. It stung like a scorpion sting.

  "What... what was that?" Lloyd stammered, pulling back and rubbing his arm.

  "Take the gold," Cassius said coolly. "But know this: I have placed a Trace on you. If you leave the city, or if the King wakes up, it triggers. You work for me now because your life depends on it."

  "A... insurance policy?" Lloyd swallowed hard.

  "A leash," Cassius corrected.

  He stood up. "Finish your wine. The carriage will take you back. And Doctor...?"

  "Yes?"

  "If he wakes up too much," Cassius said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "if he causes me trouble... I will know it was you. And the telepaths won't be so gentle next time."