Chapter : 1495
This was the real treatnt. The "Therapy of Truth." Lloyd knew that breaking the physical binding was only half the battle. He needed intel. He needed to know where the bodies were buried, taphorically and literally.
"Tell about your day," Lloyd prompted. "What caused the pressure to spike this morning?"
Seraphina sighed, picking at a loose thread on her gown. "It was... breakfast. Cassius was there."
"The Crown Prince," Lloyd nodded. "He cares for you deeply." He cares for you like a man cares for a locked safe, Lloyd thought.
"He does," she said, her voice sounding rehearsed. "He worries. He asks so many questions. About my dreams. About my magic. He says he wants to protect from myself."
"Protection can feel like a cage," Lloyd suggested. "Does he manage everything? Even your schedule?"
"Everything," she confird. "He says the King is too frail to handle the burdens of state. So Cassius handles the military. The treasury. The... projects."
Lloyd’s internal radar pinged. "Projects?"
"Restorations," she said vaguely. "Building new walls. Fixing the aqueducts. He is very busy. He has etings late at night with the Ministers. He works so hard to shield Father and from the ugly truth of ruling."
"The ugly truth," Lloyd repeated. "War is ugly. Logistics are ugly. Is that what he protects you from?"
"Yes," Seraphina said. "He says there are things a Princess should not see. Supply lines. requisition orders. The cost of... maintaining order."
Lloyd moved the stone slightly, pretending to adjust the "resonance."
"It must be hard," he said sympathetically. "Not knowing. Wondering if the things he does in your na are... things you would approve of."
Seraphina flinched. The stone buzzed against her skin as her anxiety spiked.
"I trust him," she said quickly. Too quickly. "He is my brother."
"Of course," Lloyd soothed. "But trust is heavy, isn't it? When you don't verify. It sits in your stomach like a stone."
He leaned back, removing the Lilith Stone. He slipped it into his pocket.
"Highness," Lloyd said, changing tactics. "Stress cos from a lack of control. You feel helpless because you are kept in the dark. If you knew... even a little... about these burdens, perhaps they wouldn't feel so heavy. Knowledge is light. It dispels the shadows."
Seraphina looked at him. She looked at the door, where the guards were standing (out of earshot, thanks to a subtle sound-dampening ward Lloyd had placed with his own Void power).
"He keeps the ledgers," she whispered. "In the library. The Royal Ledger. He says it is too boring for to read."
"Ledgers are boring," Lloyd agreed with a smile. "But they are also truth. Perhaps... seeing them would prove to you that there is nothing to fear? That his 'ugly truth' is just numbers and corn shipnts?"
He was baiting her. He was suggesting that her fear was irrational, and the only way to cure it was to prove herself wrong by looking at the boring evidence. It was reverse psychology 101.
"Maybe," she said thoughtfully. "I do have access. Technically. As the Princess, I am supposed to sign off on the household budget. Cassius usually does it for , but..."
"But you could do it," Lloyd finished. "As an exercise. To take back a little control. To prove to yourself that you are strong enough to handle the 'boring' truth."
Seraphina sat up straighter. The relief from the pain gave her clarity. The relief from the pressure gave her a spark of courage.
"I could," she said. "I could ask to see the household accounts. He couldn't refuse that. It's just... flowers and wine, right?"
"Exactly," Lloyd bead. "Flowers and wine. Start small. Reclaim your space."
And while you're looking at the wine budget, Lloyd thought, I'll be looking for the black budget that pays for kidnapping children.
"You are wise, Doctor," Seraphina said.
"I am just a listener," Lloyd said humbly. "Sa ti tomorrow?"
"Yes," she said. "Please."
Lloyd bowed and gathered his things. He walked out of the room with the slow, shuffling gait of Doctor Zayn. But inside, his mind was racing.
He had the hook. Now he just needed her to open the book.
----
Leaving the Princess's solar, Lloyd walked down the expansive, echoing corridors of the palace. The black stone walls seed to lean in, watching him. He kept his head down, clutching his dical bag to his chest, playing the part of the timid scholar perfectly.
Chapter : 1496
Ken Park, disguised as the mute bodyguard Kasim, fell in step behind him. They didn't speak. The palace had ears everywhere. They walked past tapestries depicting glorious battles and statues of stern-faced kings who looked like they would disapprove of laughter.
Once they were in the relative safety of the carriage, rattling back toward the rchant Quarter, Lloyd finally relaxed his posture. He pulled off his turban and ran a hand through his silver hair, which was currently dyed a dull brown.
"She's taking the bait," Lloyd said, his voice dropping the Zakarian accent. "She's terrified of her brother, but she's also desperate for agency. I've convinced her that looking at the books is a form of therapy."
"Dangerous," Ken rumbled. "If Cassius catches her..."
"If Cassius catches her, he'll think she's just being a petulant sister trying to be helpful," Lloyd said. "He underestimates her. He sees her as a broken doll. He doesn't think she has the capacity to understand what she's looking at."
"Does she?" Ken asked.
"No," Lloyd admitted. "She doesn't know a debit from a credit. But I do. If I can get her to bring the ledgers to our 'session'... or better yet, if I can get her to let 'help' her with the boring paperwork... I can find the cracks."
He looked out the window at the passing city. Saber was bustling, unaware of the rot at its heart.
"Cassius shields the King," Lloyd mused. "That's the key. Seraphina said Cassius handles 'special projects' to protect the King from the 'ugly truth'. That ans the King isn't necessarily complicit. He might just be... absent."
"Or broken," Ken suggested. "Like the Princess."
"We need to know," Lloyd said. "We need to know if the King is an enemy or a potential asset. If he's just a puppet, we ignore him. If he's a prisoner... we might be able to use him."
As if summoned by his words, the carriage suddenly lurched to a halt. Lloyd grabbed the strap to steady himself.
"Trouble?" he asked.
Ken peered out the window. "Royal Guard. They are blocking the road."
Lloyd put his glasses back on. He adjusted his robes. "Showti."
The door opened. A captain of the Royal Guard stood there. He wasn't one of the usual gate guards. His armor was more ornate, his cape a deeper crimson. He had the hard, unsmiling face of a man who killed people for a living and slept soundly afterwards.
"Doctor Zayn?" the Captain asked.
"I am he," Lloyd squeaked slightly. "Is there a problem, officer? My papers are in order, I assure you!"
"No problem," the Captain said. "A summons. His Majesty, King Aurelius, requests your presence."
Lloyd blinked. "The King? But... I just left the palace. Does the Princess need ?"
"Not the Princess," the Captain said. "The King. Now."
It wasn't a request.
Lloyd looked at Ken. Ken gave a microscopic nod. I'm ready.
"Of course," Lloyd stamred. "An honor! A terrifying honor! I... let just gather my wits."
"Gather them on the way," the Captain said. He signaled his n. Two guards climbed onto the back of Lloyd's carriage. The Captain mounted his horse and waved them forward. The carriage turned around, heading back toward the black fortress on the hill.
"Well," Lloyd whispered to Ken. "That escalated quickly."
"Trap?" Ken asked silently.
"Maybe," Lloyd murmured. "Or maybe the old lion woke up. Either way... we are going into the den. Keep your knives handy, Kasim. But don't use them unless I scream. Or unless they try to feed to a dragon."
The return journey was fast. The carriage bypassed the main gates and went to a private entrance in the East Wing—the King's personal quarters.
They were escorted out and marched through corridors that were even more silent and oppressive than the rest of the palace. The air slled of stale incense and old dicine. It slled like a sickroom.
They reached a set of double doors carved with lions. The Captain knocked.
"Enter," a wheezing voice called.
The doors opened.
The King's chamber was vast, shadowy, and filled with the ticking of a dozen clocks. It was hot, stiflingly so. A fire roared in the grate despite the warm day.
King Aurelius sat in a massive armchair by the fire. He was wrapped in blankets. He looked even smaller than he had in the garden. His skin was gray, his hands shaking as he held a cup of tea.
Standing next to him was... no one.
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