CHAPTER 41: THE MAN WHO OBSERVED

Leroy sat in his study, half-shrouded in candlelight, sleeves rolled up and jaw locked in quiet thought. Papers lay open before him, maps and letters smeared with ink and intent. The air smelled of old books, iron, and war.

Cedric stood before him, wringing his hands like a man caught in a storm without an umbrella.

"Lord Tareth swears the letter is a forgery," Cedric said, eyes darting from the prince’s blank face to the floor. "He admits he was reluctant about marrying Lady Avelyn, but says he eventually accepted it out of duty to his father. He claims he had no lover... swears on the gods he never wrote a letter to any woman."

Leroy didn’t look up. He tapped the tip of his pen on the desk, one... two... three times. The rhythm was maddening.

"It doesn’t matter," he finally said. His voice was flat, quiet—like snow settling on a grave. "No one believes him. The Viscount believes the letter, and that’s all that counts."

Cedric’s shoulders sank in mild defeat. "Yes. The Viscount’s grief is... unhinged. He’s banned the bridegroom’s entire family from the funeral. His wife was seen hurling curses at Duke Arvand in the streets. She even spat at his horse."

Leroy finally looked up. His green eyes shimmered with something cold. Calculating.

"It’s grief," Cedric said quickly, uneasy under that gaze. "Grief does strange things to people."

Leroy leaned back in his chair, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and muttered, "Bring in Aldric."

Cedric bowed and left, visibly relieved. Within moments, Aldric stepped inside, calm as ever, with his hands behind his back and eyes already watching Leroy with caution.

Cedric lingered, waiting for further orders.

Leroy didn’t look at him. "Stay," he said.

A moment of silence passed.

Then, Leroy asked the question like a general before war. "Who wants to bring down the Grand Duke?"

It wasn’t a whisper. It was a challenge, hurled into the air like a thrown gauntlet.

Cedric stiffened. How did the prince come to that conclusion?

Aldric’s brows twitched, but his expression stayed neutral.

Leroy’s eyes gleamed; not with curiosity, but with that same battle-born fire Cedric had seen when the prince charged into enemy lines without fear or hesitation.

Leroy had heard the whispers. He had gone to the funeral and seen what others missed.

Not the wails of mourning.

The performance.

There were no open screams. No daggers drawn. Only carefully placed tears and elegantly delivered silences. And in those silences... Leroy had heard the death rattle of House Arvand.

His father-in-law, the Grand Duke, who was once untouchable, was being quietly bled.

No scandal. No declaration. Just rot... dressed in pearls and poetry.

Leroy had once feared Arvand. Admired him, too. The King ruled the court, but it was the Grand Duke who held the court’s spine. Leroy had married into that power because he had no choice. Because it made sense.

But now?

Now, that power was slipping through gloved fingers. And someone was orchestrating it.

Someone clever.

Someone dangerous.

Leroy had watched the courtesans glide like ghosts between noblewomen. Watched the Viscount’s grief become a tool, his sorrow honed into a blade pointed directly at Arvand’s chest.

What chilled Leroy wasn’t just that someone was tearing down the Grand Duke.

It was how it was being done.

A thousand tiny cuts, a thousand carefully placed rumors, a kingdom gently learning that it didn’t need Arvand anymore.

Aldric exhaled deeply, almost with pride. "His comeuppance, perhaps?"

Leroy’s eyes sharpened.

Aldric lifted his palms. "What would you have me say? I’m a steward, not a kingmaker. I’ve got ledgers to tally and curtains to replace. If that’s all, I’ll take my leave."

He turned to go.

"I thought you were going to stand by my wife’s side."

Aldric froze.

The words hung in the air like thunder before the lightning strike.

Slowly, Aldric turned around, his hands clenched into fists behind him. Cedric instinctively took a step back.

Leroy waved a hand, dismissing Cedric without looking at him.

The younger man bowed and left without protest. He didn’t want to be there anyway. Something heavy was shifting in the room. He could feel it.

When Aldric sat down, he did so with the quiet irritation of a man who knew he was being baited and resented being clever enough to take it.

"She’s protected," Leroy said, fingers tapping once more on the table. "Because of her father. But if he falls, she’ll be exposed."

Aldric raised an eyebrow. "Traditionally, a husband protects his wife once she’s married."

A quiet sting, aimed with precision.

Leroy didn’t flinch. He cleared his throat. That truth stung more than Aldric knew. But what could he have done? He was a hostage prince, wrapped in ceremonial chains.

Aldric knew that too.

"What will it take for her to stop?" Leroy asked. This time, his voice was darker. Heavy. Laced with thunder.

Aldric stilled. "Who?"

The question was careful, but his eyes betrayed him. There was a flicker of unease—barely there, but Leroy caught it.

"The one you’re reporting to," Leroy said.

And Aldric... smiled.

Of course, he knew.

Of course, he knew.

And in that moment, Aldric questioned everything he thought he understood. This man... this boy he had helped raise, had become something terrifying.

Not reckless. Not cruel.

Strategic.

Leroy leaned back into his chair and folded his hands.

"You never doubted your wife," Aldric said slowly, trying to read him. "Did you?"

Leroy scoffed.

"No wife betrays and looks that happy when her husband returns from war."

That smile on her face... It hadn’t been forced. It hadn’t been crafted for court.

It had been joy. Pure, unexpected joy, even if it was fleeting.

Aldric chuckled. "Ah... So that’s what this is. You wanted her to summon you. You were waiting to be called."

Leroy didn’t confirm it. He didn’t need to.

Aldric laughed harder, slapping his thigh. The cunning in it all. Leroy allowing rumors to spread, allowing him to think he and Lorraine were at odds... it was all bait. It was all part of a longer game.

"Tell her to stop," Leroy said, his voice cutting through the laughter. "Whatever she’s planning. Tell her to end it. I don’t want to play her game anymore."

He stood, walked toward the window, and let the candlelight bathe his face in gold and shadow.

"I want to live my life."

Aldric stared at his back, the amusement slowly fading from his eyes. "You want to play house now?" he said softly. "Is that what you want?"

And for the first time, Leroy didn’t answer. He just stood there, unmoving.

And that silence... was the loudest truth of all.

Aldric laughed. After all this, he just wanted peace?

Does he realize who he is and who he married?