Capítulo 98: The King's Dying
The Verdaselles Palace
Evangeline gripped the telephone tightly, her knuckles white with tension. Her voice trembled slightly, though she masked it with a steely tone.
"The Seldings sent someone to assault me in my bedroom... I managed to kill him," she said, her free hand absently stroking Richard's hair as his head rested on her thighs. His quiet presence was her only solace amid the chaos.
Far away, in the Royal Office of the Venan Palace, Prince George's reaction was instant and visceral. He slammed his fist on the mahogany desk, his usually composed features twisted in fury.
"What?! How dare they?!" he roared, his fingers tightening around the telephone receiver as if it could bear the weight of his anger.
His mind raced, memories of countless warnings resurfacing. "I told Grandfather we shouldn't let the Seldings live... and now they've come after my niece," he thought, his jaw clenched. Determined, he straightened, forcing calm into his voice.
"Is Dominic aware? Where is he?" he asked curtly.
On the other end, Evangeline sighed, her exhaustion audible.
"Dominic said he wanted to handle matters. I suspect it involves the other noble families since he revoked the honorary committee's traditions for the anniversary," she replied.
As she spoke, Richard's hand moved to gently caress her calf, a silent reassurance. She glanced down at him, her gaze softening briefly, before returning to the conversation.
George exhaled heavily, his frustration clear.
"The Seldings' existence ends tonight. That's a promise," he muttered under his breath.
Suddenly, the door to the office burst open, and his personal assistant hurried in, his expression pale and frantic. George shot him a warning glare, raising a hand to silence the interruption.
"Tonight, we set off for Verdaselles," George declared firmly. "When is Dominic returning?"
Evangeline's voice lowered, a hint of unease creeping in.
"He said he'll be back in three days... so, two days from now," she replied.
George clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking from the pressure.
"Evangeline, you need rest. We'll investigate the Seldings immediately. I'll handle this," he assured her, ending the call abruptly.
He turned to his assistant, his expression sharp.
"What emergency warrants barging in like this?"
The young man hesitated but finally blurted out,
"Your Highness, it's the King... He's on the verge of dying!"
George froze, his blood running cold. His eyes widened as if the floor beneath him had given way.
"Is this a joke?!" he hissed, grabbing the man by the collar. His voice, low and trembling with suppressed panic, made the assistant flinch.
"It's not," the man stammered, his face pale. "You need to see the King now!"
George's thoughts spiraled as he released the assistant, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "What now? Evangeline's life is at stake, Grandfather is dying, the Duke ceremony is looming, and the Viceroy ceremony hangs in the balance... this is catastrophic," he thought, his forehead slick with sweat.
Wiping his brow with the back of his hand, he forced himself to focus, straightening his posture.
"Take me to him," he ordered curtly, his voice regaining its usual authority. The young man nodded, leading the way.
As George followed, his mind churned with calculations. "Dominic... wherever you are, you better be ready. The weight of this dynasty rests on us"
Back at Hawricks Manor
Dominic dragged Insa by her tied hands as though she were a mere object. She struggled against his grip, her muffled cries echoing through the blood-soaked halls. Her eyes darted around the manor, horrified by the gruesome scene. Bodies of guards and servants lay strewn across the floor, their lifeless eyes staring into the void. The metallic scent of blood hung heavily in the air.
Insa glared at Dominic, her face streaked with tears, but he didn't meet her gaze. Instead, his expression remained eerily serene, as if the carnage around him was nothing more than an ordinary backdrop.
"They were already dead before I got here," he thought, his eyes flickering briefly to his accomplices, who were cleaning their blades. A faint smirk played on his lips as he approached them.
A blonde man stepped forward, wiping his knife on a bloodied cloth.
"Hello, Boss. The others are on their way, and I sent some men to collect valuables from the Hawricks' estate," he reported, his tone almost casual.
Dominic gave a single nod, his icy stare silencing any further chatter.
"Good," he said simply, his voice calm but commanding.
Without breaking stride, he dragged Insa closer and tossed her toward the blonde man as if she were a sack of grain. She stumbled, landing hard on the floor, her sobs muffled by the cloth tied around her mouth.
"Take her away," Dominic ordered, slipping his hands into his pockets with a languid confidence. His posture was effortless, his beauty and composure almost otherworldly amidst the chaos. "I need her to provide information about her family's connection to the Seldings. If she refuses... well, you know what to do."
Insa stared up at him, her eyes pleading, but Dominic's cold indifference didn't waver. He turned his back to her, already lost in his own thoughts.
"The other families plotting against the Sarogaths... they'll need handling soon," he mused, his steps echoing in the silent manor.
The blonde man's voice interrupted his train of thought.
"Boss... we have a problem," he said hesitantly.
Dominic halted mid-step, turning his head slightly, his brow arching ever so slightly in curiosity.
"What problem?" he asked, his tone sharp yet composed.
"There's a female assassin claiming to work with you. She mentioned someone named Anthony," the blonde man replied.
Dominic narrowed his eyes, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. Turning away, he exhaled softly, as though the revelation was more amusing than troubling.
"Did Anthony send help? This old man never fails to surprise me. Either he's mocking me, or he actually expects me to need assistance. If she's the one who killed Honan's wife, then I suppose she has her uses," Dominic thought, shrugging as if the matter was beneath him.
He waved a hand dismissively.
"Release her. She's not an enemy. Send a message to Anthony—tell him the Seldings are becoming a significant issue in Verdaselles."
The blonde man nodded and began dragging Insa away, her muffled cries trailing behind them. Dominic watched them go, his hands still buried in his pockets, his gaze calculating.
"Before I become Grand Duke, these loose ends must be dealt with. The ceremony is close, and nothing can go wrong. Evangeline's safety... I'll need to contact the palace," he thought, his fists tightening slightly within his pockets.
The blonde man called out again, his voice breaking the tense silence.
"Boss, what about the remaining survivors at Hawricks Manor?"
Dominic didn't stop walking, his voice calm yet chilling as he responded without turning.
"Let no one live. The masters of the manor are dead; their servants don't matter."
The blonde man nodded in grim understanding, dragging Insa further down the hall. Her sobs faded into the distance as Dominic continued forward.
A guard suddenly charged at him from the shadows, cursing his name and raising a blade. Dominic didn't flinch. With a single, fluid motion, he drew his pistol, aimed, and fired.
The shot echoed through the manor, and the guard crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Dominic glanced at the gun in his hand, tilting his head slightly in annoyance.
"Tch... too noisy," he muttered, slipping the weapon back into its holster as though nothing had happened.
With measured steps, he resumed his path, his mind already moving to the next problem that demanded his cold, calculated attention.
Dominic's Secret Manor
The Manor was an opulent testament to Dominic's past as a wealthy, independent young man. He had purchased it long before his marriage to Evangeline, during the period when he had severed ties with his family and built his fortune through real estate. Its pristine halls and carefully curated aesthetics spoke of power, precision, and a mind always in control.
In the dim light of his office, Dominic sat at a grand oak desk. His left hand idly twirled a silver calligraphy pen, while his cold gaze studied the scattered papers in front of him. The room was lined with dark mahogany shelves, filled with books, ledgers, and a few subtle mementos that hinted at his past.
Reaching for the telephone with his right hand, he dialed Caleb's private line, the rotary clicks echoing faintly in the silence. The ringing tone filled the air, unanswered. Dominic's brow furrowed slightly, the only hint of annoyance breaking his otherwise calm demeanor.
"Caleb would be in his room... He couldn't possibly be sleeping this deeply unless something unusual happened," he thought, leaning back in his chair.
A soft knock at the door broke his thoughts. One of his men entered, carrying a stack of documents retrieved from the Hawricks Manor. Without a word, the man placed them on the desk, gave a respectful bow, and retreated, closing the door softly behind him.
Dominic's eyes flicked to the papers briefly before he returned to the telephone. This time, he dialed the Serenity Palace. The unanswered ringing drew a cold spark of irritation in his expression.
"Strange... Did something happen to Evangeline?" he wondered, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. His composure cracked for a moment as he slammed the telephone back onto its receiver with a sharp motion, the sound reverberating in the stillness of the room.
Just as he reached for the documents, the telephone rang, its shrill tone slicing through the tense air. Dominic picked it up with a deliberate calmness.
"Hello," he said, his voice low and steady.
"Master Dominic... it's Magdalene," came the voice from the other end.
For a moment, his icy demeanor softened ever so slightly.
"Did something happen at the palace?" he asked, cutting straight to the point.
Magdalene hesitated briefly before replying,
"It's Lady Evangeline... The Seldings sent an assassin to take her life."
Dominic's left hand clenched into a fist, the calligraphy pen in his grasp bending under the pressure. His face remained eerily calm, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"They've gone too far," he thought, his gaze shifting to a faded portrait of his mother hanging on the wall.
"Where is the assassin?" he asked coldly, his voice betraying nothing of the storm brewing within.
Magdalene's voice trembled slightly as she replied,
"The assassin attempted to... violate the Lady. She killed him herself."
For a moment, Dominic froze. His lips curled into a faint smirk as he processed the news.
"She killed him herself," he repeated in his mind, the words playing over like a dark melody. His fingers drummed lightly on the desk as a flicker of amusement crossed his otherwise indifferent face.
"She knows how to kill now... How fitting," he mused, a dark chuckle rising internally. "I wonder if she'll have the nerve to shoot me when the time comes—just as she's always wanted."
Dominic's voice broke the silence again, calm and measured.
"I'll return home soon... and handle the Seldings."
He ended the call abruptly, leaving Magdalene no time to respond. Placing the receiver down, he leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes narrowing in thought.
"Oscar, you bastard. Evangeline will surely reach out to Prince George. I need to act before she complicates things. The Seldings' dangerous powder... and Anthony must be warned. Such a tiresome game."
Running his slender fingers through his hair, Dominic exhaled deeply, then leaned forward again. With his left hand, he picked up the calligraphy pen and began writing with smooth, precise strokes. The scratch of pen against paper filled the room as he composed a letter to Prince George, the contents detailing the Seldings' actions and the potential threat they posed.
His movements were deliberate, his focus unwavering. Even amidst the chaos, Dominic's mind worked like a perfectly tuned machine, calculating every angle, every consequence.
As he sealed the letter and set it aside, a faint smirk returned to his lips.
"Evangeline... You've proven you can kill. I wonder what other surprises you have in store."
The faint glow of the desk lamp illuminated his face, casting sharp shadows that highlighted the dangerous mix of beauty, intellect, and cold indifference that defined him.
Status de energia semanal
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