Chapter : 1509

  "Understood," Lloyd said. "He will be a lamb."

  Lloyd downed the wine in one gulp. It was excellent vintage, wasted on a traitor.

  He stood up, bowed, and scurried out of the room, clutching his gold and his poison.

  Lloyd was gone.

  Prince Cassius sat alone in the large, cold room. The polite smile vanished from his face instantly. He looked bored.

  One of the grey-robed mind-readers stepped forward and bowed. "Highness... you should be careful. His thoughts were loud, but deep down, it felt too quiet. He might be hiding something."

  Cassius laughed. It was a short, mean sound. He picked up his wine glass.

  "Of course he is hiding something," Cassius said flatly. "He isn't a doctor. Did you see his hands? They were rough. Those are the hands of a fighter, not a healer. And his accent slipped twice. He is probably just some low-level spy or a deserter from the North Bathelham looking for easy money."

  "Then why let him live?" the mind-reader asked nervously. "Why let him near the King?"

  "Because he is trash," Cassius sneered. "He has no loyalty. He has no honor. He just wants gold. That makes him useful. A real doctor has rules. A piece of trash like him will do exactly what I pay him to do."

  Cassius stared at the empty chair where Lloyd had sat. A cruel smile spread across his face.

  "Let him play his little game," Cassius whispered to the empty room. "Let him think he fooled a Prince. He is useful for now. But once the King is dealt with... I will have my guards kill him and dump his body in a ditch. After all, trash belongs in the garbage."

  —-

  As the carriage rattled back towards the city, Lloyd leaned back against the cushions. He held the vial up to the moonlight filtering through the cracks.

  "You think you bought a dog," Lloyd whispered to the empty air. "But you just paid the wolf to guard the sheep."

  He pocketed the vial. He would analyze it. He would create an antidote. And he would replace the contents with sugar water.

  He checked his mental shields. The Vault was intact. The telepaths hadn't scratched the surface.

  "Greed," Lloyd mused. "Such a useful mask."

  He pulled up the sleeve of his velvet robe.

  On his wrist, right where Cassius had grabbed him, there was a faint, purple mark. It pulsed slowly, like a second heartbeat. This was the "Trace" Cassius had talked about. A magical parasite designed to kill him if he tried to leave the city or disobeyed orders.

  Lloyd stared at it. His eyes flashed gold for a split second as he activated his All-Seeing Eye.

  He looked at the structure of the spell. It was complex magic, nasty and lethal to a normal person. It was designed to dig into the soul and explode if triggered.

  But Lloyd wasn't a normal person.

  He channeled a tiny bit of his Void energy to his wrist. He probed the curse.

  To anyone else, this Trace was a heavy iron chain. But to Lloyd? It felt thin. Brittle.

  "Glass," Lloyd whispered to the empty carriage.

  He could feel it. If he pushed just a little bit harder with his mana, the curse would shatter into a million pieces. He could break it right now. He could wipe it away as easily as wiping dirt off his hand.

  He gathered his energy, ready to crush it.

  Then, he stopped.

  He let the energy fade. A small, amused smile played on his lips.

  "If I break it now, he will know," Lloyd thought. "He will know I am strong. He will be scared."

  Lloyd pulled his sleeve back down, covering the purple mark.

  "Let him keep his leash," Lloyd murmured, closing his eyes. "Let him think I am his dog. Because when the time comes... this leash won't hold me for even a second."

  He treated the deadly curse like a toy. It was nothing more than a fake shackle, waiting for him to snap it whenever he got bored.

  He arrived back at the safe house late. Ken and Jasmin were waiting, tense and armed.

  "You're alive," Jasmin breathed.

  "And rich," Lloyd said, tossing the bag of gold onto the table. "And employed."

  He explained the deal. The interrogation. The poison.

  "He hired you to poison his father?" Jasmin asked, disgusted.

  "He hired me to be the gatekeeper," Lloyd corrected. "He thinks he owns me now. That makes him careless."

  He looked at the gold.

  Chapter : 1510

  "We use this," Lloyd said. "We use his gold to buy the explosives that will blow up his factory. There is a poetic justice in that."

  "Did you learn anything else?" Ken asked.

  "I learned that Cassius is arrogant," Lloyd said. "He relies on fear and money. He doesn't understand loyalty. Or love. That is his weakness."

  He sat down, suddenly exhausted. The mental strain of maintaining the Seal against telepaths was immense.

  "We are in deep now," Lloyd said. "I am the King's doctor and the Prince's poisoner. I am playing both sides of the chessboard."

  "Just make sure you don't get checkmated," Ken warned.

  "I won't," Lloyd said. "Because I'm about to flip the table."

  The safe house was usually a place of quiet planning, but today, the air was thick with panic. Lloyd had just returned from a morning at the palace, where he had successfully swapped the King’s poison for a harmless saline solution. He was feeling good. He was feeling in control.

  Then Ken Park walked in.

  Ken had been out scouting the perimeter of the Orchid House, or at least the general area of the quarry. He looked grim. Grimmer than usual. He was covered in mud and smelled of rain.

  "Report," Lloyd said, his good mood vanishing instantly.

  "Bad news," Ken said. He walked to the table and poured himself a cup of water. He drank it in one gulp.

  "I intercepted a courier," Ken said. "A runner from the Orchid House to the Tower of Silence. I didn't kill him. I just... borrowed his satchel while he was unconscious."

  He pulled a crumpled document from his tunic. It was stamped with a red seal: URGENT.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  "Read it," Ken said.

  Lloyd took the paper. Jasmin crowded in to see.

  To: Director of Operations, Site B.

  From: The Curator.

  Subject: Expedited Processing.

  Due to increased security concerns and potential leaks, the scheduled harvest of Batch 4 is to be moved up. All subjects currently in holding are to be processed immediately. The quota must be met within 72 hours. Dispose of the failures.

  Lloyd stared at the paper. Batch 4. That was Risa’s group.

  "72 hours," Jasmin whispered. Her face went white. "Three days. They moved it up."

  "Why?" Lloyd asked. "Why the rush?"

  "Maybe they sensed something," Ken said. "Maybe Cassius is getting paranoid about your snooping. Or maybe the war is starting sooner than we thought."

  "Three days," Lloyd repeated.

  He looked at the map on the wall. The Orchid House. Sector 4, Grid 9.

  "We aren't ready," Lloyd said. "I haven't mapped the interior. We don't have the patrol routes for the inner sanctum. We were planning for a month."

  "We don't have a month," Jasmin said, her voice rising. "We have three days! Lloyd, we have to go! Now!"

  "If we go now," Lloyd said, "we hit a fortress on high alert. We hit a wall. We die. And Risa dies."

  He slammed his fist onto the table.

  "Think!" he commanded himself. "Think like a general."

  He paced the room.

  "We can't sneak in," Lloyd said. "Not quickly. Stealth takes time. And we can't fight our way in. Their defenses are designed to stop an army."

  "So we need an army?" Ken asked.

  "No," Lloyd said. "We need the guards to leave."

  He stopped pacing.

  "The Orchid House is heavily guarded because it is secret," Lloyd reasoned. "But the guards are drawn from the Obsidian Eye and mercenaries. They answer to the Palace. To Cassius."

  "So?"

  "So," Lloyd said, "if something happens... something huge... something catastrophic... somewhere else... Cassius will have to pull forces to deal with it. He will strip the defenses of the Orchid House to protect something he values more."

  "What does he value more than his secret weapon factory?" Jasmin asked.

  "His power," Lloyd said. "His control over the city. His legitimacy."

  He looked out the window at the looming black bulk of the Royal Palace.

  "We need a distraction," Lloyd said. "Not a fire. Not a riot. We need a national emergency. Something that threatens the throne itself."

  "An assassination attempt?" Ken suggested.

  "Too common," Lloyd dismissed. "Cassius expects that. No. We need something political. Something that breaks his control over the narrative."

  He thought about the players on the board. The King was awake but weak. Cassius was strong but paranoid.

  And then there was Seraphina.

  The Princess. The girl with the light magic who was just learning to be angry.

  "Seraphina," Lloyd whispered.

  "The Princess?" Jasmin asked. "What can she do?"

  Chapter : 1511

  "She is the symbol," Lloyd said. "The people love her. The guards are sworn to protect her. If she... if she makes a move. A public move. A dangerous move."

  He turned to them.

  "If the Princess is in danger," Lloyd said, "every guard in the city will rush to save her. Including the elite units guarding the Orchid House."

  "You want to put her in danger?" Jasmin looked horrified.

  "I want to put her in the spotlight," Lloyd said. "I want her to start a fire. Not with a torch. But with her voice."

  He grabbed his coat.

  "I'm going back to the palace," Lloyd said. "Tonight."

  "You can't," Ken said. "It's after hours. The gates are locked."

  "I have a warrant," Lloyd said. "And I have a secret entrance. The one we saw near the cliffs. The one the children came through."

  "That's suicide," Ken said.

  "It's the only way," Lloyd said. "I need to talk to her. I need to ask her to do the hardest thing she has ever done. I need to ask her to start a revolution."

  He looked at the clock.

  "Three days," Lloyd said. "Tick tock."

  ----

  Lloyd moved through the shadows of the cliffside path. He wasn't using the carriage. He was using [Void Steps], flashing from rock to rock, a ghost in the moonlight. He reached the secret cave entrance below the West Wing.

  He scanned the wards with his [All-Seeing Eye]. They were complex, nasty things designed to boil the blood of intruders. But Lloyd was a master engineer of the arcane. He didn't break them; he unraveled a tiny seam, slipped through, and stitched it back up behind him.

  He was inside.

  The tunnels were damp and smelled of mold and old secrets. He moved up, following the airflow. He emerged into a sub-basement of the palace. He navigated the corridors, avoiding patrols, moving upward until he reached the royal apartments.

  He reached Seraphina’s door. The guards were there, alert. He couldn't go in the front.

  He went to the balcony. He climbed the sheer stone wall, digging his fingers into the mortar. He pulled himself over the railing of the Princess's solar.

  The curtains were drawn. He tapped on the glass. Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Inside, Seraphina jumped. She was sitting by the fire, reading the ledger again. She grabbed a letter opener.

  "Who is there?" she whispered.

  "The Doctor," Lloyd whispered back. "Open the window."

  She hesitated, then undid the latch. Lloyd slipped inside, bringing the cold night air with him.

  "You!" she hissed. "Are you mad? If they find you here..."

  "We don't have time for madness," Lloyd said. He looked intense, windblown, and terrifyingly serious. "We have a problem. The timeline has moved up."

  "What timeline?"

  "The Orchid House," Lloyd said. "They are processing the children. In three days. Everyone in there dies or becomes a monster in 72 hours."

  Seraphina dropped the letter opener. "No."

  "Yes," Lloyd said. "We have to hit them. We have to extract them. But the facility is a fortress. I can't get in without an army. Unless the guards leave."

  "Why would they leave?"

  "Because they are needed here," Lloyd said. "Because the Palace is under siege."

  "Siege? By who?"

  "By you," Lloyd said.

  He walked over to her. He took her hands. They were cold.

  "Seraphina," Lloyd said. "You asked me to teach you how to drown him. How to fight him. This is it. This is the moment."

  "What do I have to do?" she asked, her voice trembling.

  "You have to stop being the sick Princess," Lloyd said. "You have to be the Queen. Tomorrow is the Festival of the Sun. The whole city will be in the square. Cassius will be there. The King will be paraded out."

  "Yes," she said.

  "You are going to stand up," Lloyd said. "On the balcony. In front of the city. In front of the army. And you are going to speak. You are going to tell them the truth."

  "The truth?" she gasped. "About the Orchid House? About the poison?"

  "No," Lloyd said. "That is too specific. They won't believe it without proof. You are going to tell them that the Crown is compromised. You are going to declare that Cassius is unfit. You are going to invoke the Ancient Right of Challenge."

  "That... that is treason," she whispered. "He will kill me. Right there on the balcony."

  Chapter : 1512

  "He will try," Lloyd said. "But he can't kill you in front of the people. Not if you channel your Light. Not if you shine so bright they think you are a goddess."

  He looked deep into her eyes.

  "If you do this... if you challenge him... the city will erupt. The factions will split. The chaos will be absolute. Cassius will panic. He will recall every elite unit he has to secure the capital. He will strip the Orchid House to protect his own skin."

  "You want me to start a civil war," she said.

  "I want you to start a fire," Lloyd corrected. "A fire that burns down his lies. A fire that draws the wolves away from the lambs."

  Seraphina pulled her hands away. She turned her back to him. She walked to the fire.

  "I am scared," she said. "I am just a girl."

  "You are not a girl," Lloyd said. "You are the one who survived the binding. You are the one who read the ledgers. You are the one who knows what he is doing to those children."

  He stepped up behind her.

  "Think of them," he whispered. "Think of the small collars. Think of the incinerators. They are waiting for the end. You are their only hope."

  Seraphina looked into the fire. She saw the faces she had imagined.

  She thought of her father, drooling in his chair. She thought of her brother, smiling while he signed death warrants.

  She felt the anger again. The diamond-hard rage.

  She turned around. Her face was set. Her eyes were blazing.

  "Three days?" she asked.

  "Three days," Lloyd said.

  "Then I will give you your distraction," Seraphina said. "I will stand on that balcony. And I will burn him."

  "Good," Lloyd said.

  "But Doctor," she said. "If I do this... if I start this war... you have to promise me one thing."

  "Anything."

  "You have to win," she said fiercely. "You have to save them. Because if I burn down my kingdom for nothing... I will never forgive you."

  "I will win," Lloyd promised. "Or I will die trying."

  He went to the window.

  "Get ready, Your Highness," Lloyd said. "In the next few days, you will make history."

  He slipped out into the night.

  The pieces were set. The clock was ticking. The fuse was lit.

  And in the darkness of the Orchid House, Risa waited, unaware that the world was about to catch fire for her sake.

  The city of Saber had transformed overnight. The rigid, militaristic grey stone and black iron that usually defined the capital were buried under a riot of color. Banners of crimson, gold, and azure snapped in the wind from every balcony. Lanterns, shaped like dragons, suns, and grotesque demons, hung strung across the streets, waiting for dusk to be lit. It was the Festival of Masks, the one time a year when the dour citizens of Altamira were allowed—mandated, actually—to forget who they were.

  Lloyd Ferrum, dressed in his Doctor Zayn robes but wearing a newly acquired mask of a grinning wooden fox, navigated the crowded market street. He hated festivals. To him, they were logistical nightmares. Crowds meant unpredictable variables. Noise meant obscured communications. And masks meant that every person walking past him could be an assassin.

  "It is loud," Ken Park murmured from behind a mask depicting a stone gargoyle. It fit him perfectly.

  "It is chaos," Lloyd corrected, dodging a drunk reveler swinging a wineskin. "But chaos is useful. Look at them. The guards are relaxed. They are drinking. They are flirting. Their perimeter discipline has dropped by at least forty percent."

  They made their way to the agreed-upon meeting point, a secluded teahouse near the edge of the Royal District. It was reserved for high-ranking officials, but Doctor Zayn’s new reputation as the miracle worker who saved the Qadir heir opened doors that were usually locked.

  Inside, the air was cool and smelled of jasmine tea. Princess Seraphina was waiting in a private booth. She wore a heavy cloak over her dress and a mask of white porcelain with golden tears painted on the cheeks. It was a melancholy choice, but fitting.

  Lloyd slid into the seat opposite her. Ken stood guard at the curtain.

  "Doctor," Seraphina whispered. She sounded breathless, her hands clenching and unclenching on the table. "The city... it is madness out there."