Chancellor Oran shifted uncomfortably. The chamber's mood was tilting.
Alden's voice cut through the murmurs. "Enough."
All turned.
The king's tone was even but laced with warning. "We investigate threats, not chase ghosts. Unless evidence is placed before me with seal and witness, no accusation shall pass as truth."
Lucien bowed his head, neither smug nor thankful. Lilian's lips tightened.
As the session dispersed, Lady Virell, a minor courtier from a northern duchy, stepped close to Oran.
"They say the Virellans are stirring near the border. Why draw the court's eyes here when danger brews beyond?"
Oran met her eyes briefly. "Because if the prince gains the court's trust, he gains its loyalty. That cannot happen. Not yet."
Meanwhile, Rowan and Samuel rode hard through the night, parchment secured under layers of oilskin. They had found it, at the base of the old tower where the bodies lay forgotten.
A list.
Names, payments, seals.
