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The heavy oak doors of Prince Liam’s private residence swung open silently on well-oiled hinges. Carlos stepped inside, his boots sinking into the plush, crimson carpet that muffled his footsteps. The air was warm, scented with expensive oils and the faint, sweet sll of roasted fruits. It was a world away from the cold, sterile atmosphere of the military camp he had just left.

A soft, lodious sound tickled his ears as he entered. It was the music of a harp, played with such delicate precision that it seed to float in the air like perfu.

Carlos glanced to his left. In a dimly lit alcove, bathed in the glow of a single, golden lamp, sat the player. She was a woman of breathtaking beauty, her hair a cascade of spun gold that fell over her shoulders. She wore a gown of pale blue silk that shimred with every movent of her arm. Her fingers danced over the strings of the harp, her expression one of serene, focused concentration.

Carlos minded his business. He knew better than to stare at the Prince’s entertainnt. He walked straight ahead, toward the center of the room where Prince Liam was reclining.

Liam lay on a chaise lounge upholstered in velvet, a glass of dark wine in his hand. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back as if he were drinking in the music. A small, satisfied smile played on his lips.

Carlos stopped a few feet away and bowed low.

"Your Highness," Carlos announced, his voice respectful but eager. "I have returned."

Liam opened his eyes slowly. He didn’t look at Carlos imdiately. He took a sip of wine, his gaze drifting back to the beautiful damsel playing the harp.

"You have done well this ti, Carlos," Liam spoke, his voice smooth and languid. He finally turned his head, his blue eyes locking onto Carlos with a look of cold approval.

"Worthy of the expectations I placed on you. The Grand Duke is gone. The path is clear."

Carlos chuckled nervously. He rubbed his hands together, the praise feeding his ego like coal to a fire.

"Receiving imperial recognition..." Carlos began, his chest puffing out slightly. "Becoming the Commander... it is entirely due to Your Highness’s patronage. Without you, I would still be digging ditches. I will never forget this."

Liam waved a hand dismissively, his interest already waning. "Mmm," he humd, turning back to the harp player as if Carlos were no more important than a piece of furniture.

Carlos felt a flash of annoyance, but he quickly hid it. He needed to keep the Prince happy. He followed Liam’s gaze to the musician.

"Ahh," He said, trying to make conversation, trying to be part of the mont. "This musician’s harp skills are unparalleled. To get His Highness’s attention so completely... she must be a master."

He turned back to Liam, smiling ingratiatingly.

"Your Highness has exquisite taste," He complinted. "Where did you find such a talent? Is she from the Royal Academy?"

Liam’s smile widened. It wasn’t a friendly smile. It was a predatory smile, full of secrets and dark amusent.

"Before her marriage," Liam said casually, swirling his wine, "Lady Bria was a renowned harpist. She played for the King himself at the sumr gala."

Carlos’s eyes widened. His mouth fell open slightly.

"Marriage?" he whispered.

He looked at the woman again. Lady Bria. He recognized the na now. She was a noblewoman. A wife. The wife of a high-ranking official.

The music stopped. The last note faded into the heavy, perfud air.

Lady Bria stood up. She smoothed her dress, her movents graceful and confident. She didn’t look like a servant or a hired perforr. She looked like a woman who knew her power.

She walked toward Liam, her hips swaying slightly. She stopped in front of the Prince and curtsied. It was a low, elegant bow that displayed her décolletage.

"Does Your Highness find satisfactory?" she asked. Her voice was husky, intimate. It was not the voice of a musician asking for a patron’s approval. It was the voice of a lover.

Liam didn’t answer with words. He reached out and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her down onto his lap.

Carlos took a step back, shocked. This was bold. This was reckless. This was... scandalous.

"Do you an last night in bed?" Liam asked, his voice a low purr that carried clearly in the silent room. He ran his hand down her bare arm, his fingers trailing over her skin. "Or your performance just now?"

He grabbed her waist, pulling her closer until her body was pressed firmly against his chest.

"Because I am satisfied with both," Liam declared.

Lady Bria smiled. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with the collar of his tunic. She looked at him with a mixture of desire and calculation.

"Regarding my husband’s promotion..." she whispered against his lips.

Liam laughed. It was a dark, knowing sound.

"Satisfy ," Liam promised, leaning in, "and I will never disappoint you. Or him."

He kissed her. It was a deep, possessive kiss, right there in front of Carlos.

Carlos took several steps backward, his face burning. He felt like an intruder. He felt like he had seen sothing forbidden, sothing dirty.

He thought to himself, his mind racing to connect the dots.

"That woman... Lady Bria... she is the wife of the Vice Director of Revenue," Carlos realized. "He was just promoted last week. He jumped over three other n to get that position. Everyone said it was luck."

He looked at Liam, who was lost in the woman’s embrace, his hand tangling in her golden hair.

"No wonder he rose to such a position so quickly," Carlos thought, a chill running down his spine. "It wasn’t rit. It wasn’t luck. It was her."

He stared at the Prince. He saw a man who traded power for pleasure, who used the wives of his subordinates as currency.

"It seems Prince Liam prefers married won," Carlos deduced. "That must be why I don’t see him in brothels. That must be why I never see him with unmarried won. He likes the ga. He likes the risk. He uses their husbands to increase his advantage for the battle of the throne."

A darker thought occurred to him.

"That must be why I don’t see him with unmarried won unless it’s soone he can discard easily when things goes awry," Carlos thought. "Maybe that was how his mistress died because she was of no use to him anymore."

He bowed silently, his heart heavy with a new, unsettling understanding of the man he served.

"I will take my leave, Your Highness," Carlos whispered, though no one was listening.

He turned and left quietly, closing the door on the scandalous scene.

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