"Do you think the Raysin’s family would believe this? Witch or not, it doesn’t erase the fact that Aldric killed their daughter. The story is already spreading through Astaria as we speak!"
"Then they would be blind not to recognize their daughter’s body." Andre hinted at the evidence they held.
"No, Theodore is right. Right now, the Raysin family would be so furious they will think whatever word we say to them is an orchestrated fallacy. Not to ntion, Queen Maeve...." King Oberon hesitated as if wondering if saying whatever he had in mind about his queen in front of his stepsons was the right thing to do.
"She would not stand for this." Andre continued from where he stopped, as if reading his mind. "Evidence or not, she has been looking for a way to get rid of Aldric, now is the perfect ti to do so."
Elena’s death was not just a personal loss; it was a political catastrophe. The alliances, the fragile peace—they all hung in the balance.
Fae could not lie, but they could manipulate the truth. Although Andre knew the truth and that Aldric was not the one responsible for Elena’s murder, yet he would not say it. This was the only way to protect Islinda. Aldric was in a better position to handle this. And he had a feeling, Aldric would agree to it as well.
"Your majesty," Lennox said, "Allow to chirp in."
"Go ahead."
"I’m afraid that the Raysin family might take matters into their own hands and go after Prince Aldric. We have to move now before the matter is completely out of control."
Oberon nodded a grim set to his jaw. "You’re right. This will undoubtedly have repercussions, Lennox. We must tread carefully in this situation. Go, gather the council. We must prepare for the fallout."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Lennox bowed deeply, backing out of the room with the sa urgency that had brought him there in the first place. Conflict was common in the kingdom, but this one was the first of its kind. They had to stop this storm before it engulfed them all.
The chamber fell silent for over a minute, King Oberon issued a dismissive command, his voice echoing with authority, "You can leave as well."
Andre and Theodore exchanged a glance, both preparing to depart. They had almost reached the door when Oberon’s voice cut through the air again, sharper this ti. "Stay back, Andre."
Theodore froze, his back stiffening as the words sank in. The command felt like a slap on his face. A personal slight, and big reminder of his position—or lack thereof. His face contorted with barely restrained fury, but he quickly masked it with a semblance of composure.
Protest bubbled up within him, but he swallowed it down, knowing it would only make him look petty. Andre was his father’s spymaster, the trusted confidant, the favored son who had his father’s ear in all matters of state and security.
Thanks to Andre’s position and responsibility, it wasn’t uncommon for the both of them to be in closed quarters talking. Theodore was jealous of their relationship and his father’s reliance on Andre. As the first son, it hurt not to be his father’s right-hand Fae. Not to ntion being unproductive to his father and the kingdom of Astaria made him feel useless. He was the good-for-nothing first son.
"As you wish, Your Majesty," Theodore said, bowing his head to hide the bitterness in his eyes.
His voice held a note of resignation, the disappointnt weighing heavily on his shoulders as he turned and left the room. The heavy door closed behind him with a resonant thud, sealing him away from the private counsel he knew was about to unfold.
Once they were alone, the air in the chamber felt heavy with unspoken words. Andre let the veil slip from his hand, and a controlled gust of wind carried it, draping it over Elena’s gruesoly severed head. King Oberon’s eyes, sharp and penetrating, shifted from the veiled head to Andre, laden with suspicion and a hint of intrigue.
The weight of Oberon’s gaze unsettled Andre. He sensed that his father was piecing sothing together, and a cold realization gripped him—did his father suspect Islinda as the true killer? Andre knew Oberon had other spies. Had one of them uncovered sothing?
"How is Aldric?" King Oberon’s question broke through Andre’s thoughts, catching him off guard.
"What?" Andre stamred, his surprise evident.
"Where is your brother right now?" Oberon clarified, his eyes narrowing as he studied Andre’s reaction.
"He’s back at his castle," Andre answered, his voice steadying as he regained his composure.
"And not in hiding? This matter is about to boil over," Oberon said, his tone laced with concern.
Andre t his father’s gaze with a slight smirk. "Does Aldric seem to you like the hiding type?"
Oberon’s brow furrowed, and he let out a low sigh. "I’m afraid the Raysin family might go after him before I can bring things under control."
"They’re welco to try, but it would be their suicide," Andre said unapologetically, a hint of dark amusent in his voice.
Oberon’s eyes narrowed at his son’s boldness.
Andre explained."Good luck to them indeed. Aldric grows stronger every day. If I were you, Father, I’d send a ssage to Queen Maeve, urging her to restrain her people. Otherwise, it will be a massacre. Aldric has no intention of dying anyti soon."
King Oberon exhaled shakily, his expression troubled. Turning his back on Andre, he clasped his hands behind him, staring into the distance. "Queen Maeve will never listen. We may as well start preparing condolence flowers for the victims. If anyone needs convincing, it’s Elena’s parents."
Andre’s lips twitched at the harsh truth in his father’s words. The Raysin family had the resources and would not stop till they exacted vengeance on Aldric.
"However," King Oberon turned abruptly, his eyes locking onto Andre’s, "I have been thinking. Why would a witch go to such lengths—possessing a High Fae, confronting Aldric? It doesn’t add up, leading to one question."
He took a step closer, his eyes boring into Andre’s. "What secret did you keep from , spymaster?"
Andre gulped.
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