Kapitel 47: Meeting With Prince George
An hour later, Caleb walked to Dominic's bedroom and knocked.
"Come in," Dominic called out, his voice carrying a hint of boredom.
Caleb entered, carefully closing the door behind him. His eyes caught sight of a handkerchief discarded on the floor, and he hesitated. Judging by its delicate embroidery, it clearly belonged to a woman. Caleb couldn't help but notice Dominic's flushed cheeks, the telltale sign of a recent alcohol binge. He raised an eyebrow, wondering what on earth had happened. He also recalled a blonde woman calling Dominic's name in the garden earlier.
"Did something happen to you, my Lord?" Caleb asked, bowing his head slightly.
Dominic let out a frustrated sigh, sipping from his glass before finishing off the letter he'd been writing. "Just another crazy woman…" he muttered, his voice dripping with exasperation.
"I knew it… He's in trouble again," Caleb thought, laughing nervously to himself. "This country really is full of crazy women."
"I heard she's the sister-in-law of Nervile's husband, Harper," Caleb added, hoping the detail might pique Dominic's interest.
Dominic raised an eyebrow, intrigued for a moment. "Oh? So that's where the lunatic came from. I thought she was just a lost guest." He chuckled darkly and rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I was about to inform Lady Navier that her guest had gone completely haywire."
Caleb blinked, trying to hide his curiosity. "So, what happened between you two, my Lord? She shouted something about never forgiving you when I passed by the garden."
Dominic rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. "What do you think? The usual nonsense. She went through my things, sprawled out on my bed, and then had the nerve to—" He paused, his disgust palpable. "Ugh… she tried to get intimate with me. Even fiddled with my pants."
Caleb stifled a laugh, though his thoughts betrayed him. "He's cute when he's angry. This is the sort of thing he tells Evangeline,in his case I would never tell the same thing—if he did, I'd be dead."
"Eardoznian women sure are something," Caleb said, clearing his throat to stifle his laughter. "They've been wild since we arrived. But, my Lord, with looks like yours, can you blame them?"
Dominic shot him a withering glare, unimpressed by the flattery. "Tsk… It doesn't matter. We'll be leaving soon anyway. The mission at Mother's house is complete."
Caleb nodded but then spotted the handkerchief again. He picked it up gingerly and waved it in Dominic's direction. "I believe this belonged to the crazy woman," he said, trying to lighten the mood.
Dominic glanced at the handkerchief, his expression darkening instantly. Disgust flickered in his eyes as he turned his head away and waved dismissively.
"Get rid of it," he ordered coldly, reaching for his cup again, unwilling to acknowledge the offending item any further.
Caleb tucked the handkerchief into his pocket, watching as Dominic returned to writing yet another letter, his mood hovering between irritation and exhaustion.
"Writing another letter home?" Caleb asked, watching Dominic tap his slender fingers rhythmically on the glass.
"Yes. I'm sending it before my departure tomorrow," Dominic replied with a nod. "I'm not staying long in Eardoznia. I've already been away from my political duties for too long. And if Evangeline would just cooperate, I could teach her something useful. But she's been a pain in the neck, refusing any attempt at peace. I'm sure this whole mess with Edward will only make things worse in my absence. Magdalene, Mr. Charles, and George can handle it while I'm gone."
Caleb sighed, shaking his head. "That's going to be tough. I'm sure she's already asking George to organize a divorce between the two of you."
"Tsk… As if he'd let that happen." Dominic scoffed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Evangeline's too impulsive. Her health is already fragile—peach allergy and all. Let's just hope Richard doesn't make things worse by getting her pregnant, because that would be a nightmare." He took another sip from his cup, his tone cold and lacking remorse. "The only thing that matters is that she's alive, and she has her purpose."
Caleb stared at Dominic, feeling both surprised and confused. "What is this evil bastard planning now?" he thought, his mind racing as Dominic's words hung in the air.
"Anyway, my lord," Caleb began, changing the subject, "someone sent a message to me yesterday. Eliza is back from Ishva."
Dominic's grip on his glass tightened at the mention of her name, causing it to shatter in his hand. He barely flinched as shards scattered onto the floor.
"Eliza's back?" Dominic muttered, staring at the broken glass in his hand before turning his gaze to Caleb. "When did she return?"
"After you left, my lord," Caleb replied, bowing his head. "I heard she's here to help her father with the gallery business."
Dominic scoffed and tossed the remaining shards aside. "Oh, well, it doesn't matter. She's tangled with Edward now, so whatever we had in the past is long dead."
"But what about the letters she keeps sending you?" Caleb asked, folding his arms, his curiosity piqued.
"I'm done replying to those," Dominic said, his voice laced with irritation. "Now that I'm not around, Evangeline will be the one receiving them. I couldn't care less how she reacts. Richard's by her side, so she can deal with the fallout. As for him…" Dominic trailed off with a sigh, placing the glass shard beside the stack of papers. "I'll deal with Richard personally when the time comes."
"This man never ceases to surprise me," Caleb thought, watching Dominic's calculating gaze narrow as he stared at the letter he was writing. "He always seems like he's two steps ahead of everyone"
"As for Eliza," Dominic continued, his voice colder now, "I've got plans of my own to handle her. She's still obsessed with me, but I'll deal with that in due time. She's not going to let this go easily. She'll target Evangeline if she gets desperate, and I'm not going to let that happen."
Dominic sealed the envelope with practiced ease, pressing his personal stamp into the wax. "I have ways of dealing with Eliza. She may be crazy, but so am I when I need to be."
Back at Verdaselles, the capital of Venia
The Royal Palace Throne Room
The throne room was an imposing space, lined with towering marble pillars adorned with golden accents. Intricate stained-glass windows cast colorful hues across the polished floors, and the walls were decorated with tapestries depicting the royal lineage of Venia. Guards, clad in ceremonial armor, stood at attention around the room, their presence reinforcing the gravity of the situation. In one corner, the Khardes family's bodyguards remained alert, cornered by the royal guard.
Prince George sat upon the throne of his grandfather, King Claude, a regal seat crafted from dark oak with gold inlays. His princely attire reflected his high status—an elegant navy-blue velvet coat embroidered with silver threads, paired with a sash bearing the royal crest. A silver chain hung from his neck, and his boots gleamed with meticulous polish. His expression, however, was one of anger and frustration.
George held a letter in his hand, his jaw clenched as he read its contents. The veins on his hand bulged as he gripped the paper tightly, his brow furrowed. He stood abruptly, casting a cold gaze at Khardis, who stood before him in the center of the room.
"So, it wasn't you and Edward involved in importing drugs?" George demanded, waving the letter in his hand. His voice was sharp with accusation. "It was the prisoner?"
Khardis bowed his head, his voice steady but respectful. "Your Highness, it is not the Khardes family that imported those drugs. Many have been using the Khardes name to cause implications, and it's been affecting our reputation. The handwriting on that letter belongs to the prisoner, and it is proof of our innocence."
George's eyes narrowed as he considered Khardis' words, but the tension in the room was palpable. He didn't trust the man standing before him. "Do you expect me to believe that? You say your reputation is tarnished, yet I have reports that Edward was seen with suspicious individuals. Are you seriously going to tell me he wasn't involved?"
Khardis swallowed, avoiding George's piercing gaze as he thought carefully about his response. "If we sent this letter to Prince George through a messenger, he would assume we were hiding and afraid to speak for ourselves. Benjamin Brusward is already on his way to make things worse. My father didn't even have the chance to visit the palace. I heard his plans on the call—even if I release him, he'd still ruin everything."
"Your Highness," Khardis began, trying to keep his voice calm, "my father's actions have been independent of the family's will. We are doing everything in our power to cooperate, but as you can understand, these events have spiraled beyond our control. Benjamin Brusward's involvement complicates things even further, and I fear his influence is only making the situation more volatile."
Prince George narrowed his eyes, his anger not entirely quelled. "And what about Evangeline?" His voice dropped, becoming colder. "I've heard whispers of her involvement in this mess. Do you think I won't act if she's hurt? She is under my protection, and if Edward or anyone from your family has laid a hand on her—"
Khardis stiffened, realizing the conversation had taken a dangerous turn. He quickly interjected, "Your Highness, I swear on my family's name that Evangeline has not been harmed. We had no intention of involving her in this conflict. Edward's actions… they are his own."
George remained silent for a moment, scrutinizing Khardis' every movement. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he dismissed the guards surrounding the Khardes family bodyguards.
"Consider yourself fortunate, Khardis," George said, his tone laced with warning. "But know this—if I find any more evidence linking your family to these crimes, not even your father's influence will save you."
Khardis bowed deeply. "Thank you, Your Highness. I will ensure you are kept informed of any developments."
With that, Prince George turned sharply on his heel, his princely robes billowing as he walked away from the throne, his mind already plotting his next move.
George stared at Khardis with suspicion, his cold gaze lingering before he scoffed lightly, his lips curling into a mocking smile. He leaned back slightly on the throne, crossing one leg over the other, exuding an air of quiet dominance.
"And what about the Bruswards family?" George asked, his voice cutting through the tense silence like a blade. "Are they implicating your name as well? Because, from what I remember, the Bruswards don't need to tarnish others' reputations to cause trouble. So how exactly can you explain this?"
The question hung in the air like a noose tightening around Khardis' neck. The pressure was palpable, and Khardis felt the weight of George's words like the heat of an impending fire. His palms began to sweat, though he kept his face as composed as possible.
"Where's Benjamin?" Khardis thought, panic creeping in despite his efforts to maintain calm. If he doesn't arrive soon, I'll be executed on the spot. He shifted slightly but tried to control the tremor that threatened to betray his fear.
Just then, a guard entered the throne room, bowing respectfully. "Your Majesty," the guard said, his voice steady but formal.
George, still reclining on the throne with one hand now lazily resting on the armrest, flicked his eyes toward the guard. "Who is it?" he asked, his tone indifferent as he slowly rose to his feet. He placed his hands behind his back, taking deliberate, slow steps down from the throne, each step echoing off the marble floor, adding to the tension in the room.
"Benjamin Brusward," the guard replied, causing George to arch an eyebrow in mild interest.
"Let him in," George commanded in a calm but firm voice. The guard nodded and swiftly left the room to carry out the order.
Finally... Khardis thought, exhaling a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. I thought I was dead already.
"Your Highness, Benjamin Brusward will explain everything to you, and we will ensure that the criminal in prison faces justice in court," Khardis said, his tone smoother now, the slight quiver in his voice barely noticeable as he regained some composure.
George, having walked back to his throne, seated himself with slow deliberation, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the throne's ornate armrest. His sharp eyes fixed on Khardis once again, the slight tapping echoing in the otherwise silent room. Khardis could feel his nerves fraying as George remained unsettlingly calm, his body language intentionally languid yet predatory.
"I expect a full explanation," George said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. "From both of you." He leaned one elbow on the throne's armrest, resting his head on his hand, his posture casual, but his gaze unwavering. A slight smile crept onto his lips, as though he was already aware of the lies and schemes unfolding before him.
"They think they can fool me,"George thought, his internal amusement carefully masked behind his calm expression." I'll play the fool for now, but this will work to my advantage later. The proof came from Magdalene, and that will be their undoing."
As the door opened to allow Benjamin Brusward into the room, George's slight smile never wavered. He knew this was merely the beginning of a game that he had every intention of winning.
Benjamin walked into the throne room, his steps measured as he approached George, bowing his head respectfully. "Your Highness, it's an honor to meet you. Forgive me for my lateness—they wouldn't let me in without clearance."
George's sharp eyes glinted as he watched Benjamin, a hint of disdain flickering across his face. "What an excuse," he thought but maintained his princely charm. Leaning forward slightly, he spoke with icy calm. "I demand an explanation. Evidence shows that both the Khardes and Bruswards families are implicated in importing illegal substances, specifically peach tea—a product we banned years ago. This tea was used in an attempt to poison my niece." His voice remained dangerously low, but the intensity in his gaze bore down on both men, like a lion watching its prey. "Now tell me," George continued, his voice thick with authority, "was it just the prisoner acting alone, or is someone else behind this? Perhaps a larger conspiracy involving your households?"
Khardis swallowed hard, his discomfort evident as the weight of George's stare fell heavily upon him. His jaw tightened, but he dared not speak yet. Benjamin, however, held his composure, his posture unfazed by the prince's piercing scrutiny. He knew well the consequences if this matter spiraled further out of control.
"It was the maid's accomplice, Your Grace," Benjamin replied steadily, keeping his voice firm. "She was not our spy. It seems she was driven by envy—jealous of Evangeline and her position—so she took matters into her own hands."
George raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint, almost charming smile as he leaned back into his throne. The smoothness of his movements contrasted with the cold menace in his tone. "You'll need to prove it. I want clear evidence that it was the prisoner's intention to harm my niece. And," he added, narrowing his gaze at Benjamin, "what is the prisoner's name?"
Khardis, sensing the opening, quickly interjected. "His name is Vincent, Your Highness," he said, bowing slightly as sweat beaded at the back of his neck. His thoughts raced, calculating how best to play this to his advantage. "The Prince is ruthless, but he's fallen for it. This could be our path to victory. Edward will be pleased, and we'll use Vincent as bait. That fool already harmed Evangeline—we have nothing to lose." Khardis' lips twitched slightly as he bowed his head deeper, masking the smirk forming at the corners of his mouth.
George observed the subtle shift in Khardis' demeanor but made no outward reaction. Instead, he casually crossed one leg over the other, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of his throne, a habit that only added to the tension in the room. "Does Vincent have a family?" George asked, his tone deceptively calm, though his eyes glimmered with something darker.
"Yes, Your Highness," Benjamin replied smoothly. "His wife works in a bakery in a small town here in Verdaselles, though she resigned recently due to her pregnancy. They have children."
At this, George's tapping ceased. His expression became unreadable as he weighed the information. With a graceful yet deliberate motion, he raised his hand, gesturing for the guards to lower their spears. The subtle clinking of armor followed, and the guards obeyed, stepping back from Khardis and Benjamin.
George leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees, the charming façade still in place, but his next words came with an unmistakable edge. "Good. Keep me informed. If this prisoner is responsible, I will make sure he pays the price. And as for his family..." George paused, letting the implication hang in the air. "We'll see what role they play in all this.his family will pay for the sins he caused, and those connected to him, especially Bethany, for the injury inflicted on Evangeline." George's words initially brightened Khardis and Benjamin's expressions, but his next statement quickly shattered their confidence.
"But," George added, his voice growing colder as he rose from the throne and turned his back to them, "I still need undeniable evidence that he wrote this before I can deliver any punishment at tomorrow's court hearing." His tone made it clear that he would not be so easily swayed.
Khardis and Benjamin exchanged uneasy glances, nodding as they gathered their things. They bowed slightly and left the room, their bodyguards following closely behind.
As the doors of the throne room closed behind them, George allowed himself a brief, derisive scoff. "If there's real proof, it means they're innocent... but it doesn't change the fact that they imported the banned tea. They may not have directly harmed Evangeline, but smuggling contraband my grandfather outlawed is crossing the line." His thoughts darkened as his gaze drifted to the ornate ceiling above him. "They think I'm a fool, easily deceived by their lies. But they'll soon learn…" He clenched his jaw, his mind already calculating the sweet and bitter punishment he would devise. "I'll give them a taste of their own medicine—a punishment fitting their arrogance."
However, as he considered the consequences, a deeper worry crept in. "Murdering the Bruswards... it might break Dominic." George's eyes softened with concern, knowing full well that his close friendship with Dominic complicated matters. "For his sake, I'll spare them—at least for now. But any small offense, and they'll pay dearly in fines."
George paced slowly down the grand throne room, his polished boots echoing softly against the marble floors. His gaze shifted toward the door as his thoughts wandered to Dominic. "It's fortunate they didn't mention Dominic's absence. They don't know he's been away for quite some time." His brow furrowed slightly. "But what's taking him so long? Surely whatever mission or task he's handling should've been resolved by now." He paused, sighing quietly. "Handling the affairs of the country during his absence was the least I could do to avoid suspicion. Dominic is too clever for his own good… he likely anticipated this. Perhaps this is what he wanted me to do all along."
George clenched his fists, his thoughts turning toward the future. "Everything will be resolved at court." His expression hardened, and his resolve deepened. "And with my coronation so near—when I become the next king of Verdaselles and Venian—I will not disappoint the people. I'll rule with strength and wisdom, as my grandfather did." His knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists tighter. "I will not let them down."
With a final deep breath, George straightened his posture, his princely demeanor returning as he prepared for the trials to come.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein