Sold To The Cruel Pr Chapter 90: Trust And Power

Chapter 90: Trust And Power

Before Duke Edric Vantaris, spymaster to the royal family and master of shadow-bending, could send word to Kael, a faint chill ran down his spine.

He was being watched.

He turned.

The King stood there.

Edric imdiately bowed and moved toward him, but the King was already walking ahead, dismissing his guards with a small motion of his hand. He led Edric into the darker corridor, away from the music, away from the glittering hall, away from the eyes of the court.

Behind them, Edric caught sight of the Chancellor and Ingrid watching the King leave with focused attention.

He and the Chancellor had never gotten along. Edric had never trusted the man, and he had no idea why the King did.

"Do you think my son liked that girl?" the King asked.

Edric lowered his head. Everyone had seen the Crown Prince’s indifference tonight. Even House Caelvaris had been slighted.

"I believe His Highness is fatigued," Edric said carefully.

"Fatigued, indeed. Too young to be fatigued..." The King’s gaze remained on him. "I did not see your son at the feast."

Edric’s shoulders tightened.

"I apologize on his behalf, Your Majesty," he said. "I am trying to locate him. I will summon him—"

"Do not be so hard on him, Spymaster," the King said quietly. "We both know he follows the Crown Prince’s instructions."

Edric swallowed.

Was that understanding, or a warning?

"Your Majesty," he said at once, keeping his voice respectful, "my son serves the throne with the utmost loyalty."

His family had served the royal family for generations as spymasters, bending shadows for the crown. That bond ant nothing if the King did not trust them. So the two houses had spent centuries in this careful, dangerous dance of service and suspicion.

The King let out a slow breath.

"Edric..."

The softness in his voice was sohow worse than anger.

"Your Majesty."

"Did Vaelor find her?"

Edric’s heart lurched.

So the King knew.

His son had sent a ssage about a woman. A dangerous woman, perhaps. But how much did the King already know?

"My son did report a woman who could see through his stealth magic," Edric said. "He said they lost her in the forest last night. The theory is that a monster killed her. He did bring another girl back with him, though. I intended to ask him more once he returned."

The King’s expression changed. The faint smile vanished.

"The Seer has revealed a prophecy," he said. "A calamity is approaching Greenvale."

Edric looked up sharply.

His son had said one woman died, and he had returned with another. He had not believed it entirely then.

Now he was no longer sure what he believed.

And what was this calamity? Should he be more honest?

"Have I ever used my bending on you, Edric?" the King asked, reaching his hand toward his head.

Edric dropped to his knees at once. His heart pounded. The aning was clear. If the King wished, he could drag the truth out of Edric’s mind without effort.

"Your Majesty, this servant—"

"You are one of the few I trust." The King did not let him finish. "That girl. Bring her to ."

"As you command, Your Majesty."

Still kneeling, Edric looked up. The King was gone. Only then could he breathe. He exhaled slowly and rose.

"Kael..." he murmured under his breath, his face tightening. "What have you brought upon us?"

Edric decided to leave and deal with his son first.

Kael had not answered a single one of his ssages. If Edric had been dealing with anyone else, he would already have used shadow-scrying to find him and drag him back by the collar if necessary. But this was his son.

His own blood.

The one he had taught everything to.

And now the boy was hiding from him.

Very well. Edric would remind him who had raised him. Who had taught him to move through shadow and silence. He would not be outdone by his own son—not in this lifeti.

He had not even taken a few steps when he sensed it.

Soone following him.

Edric’s hand went instantly to the dagger at his side. He turned, cautious and ready.

And there he was.

"Lord Chancellor..." Edric said, smiling with deliberate politeness even as contempt sharpened the edge of his expression. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Chancellor Beron Terravain looked him up and down with a thin, appraising smile.

"What did the King ask of you?" he said.

As the enforcer of law, Beron believed he was entitled to know every private word spoken in the King’s presence. It was unusual enough for the King to summon Edric alone, without including him, and that alone had clearly already pricked his curiosity.

Edric glanced around, then leaned in with the air of soone sharing a great secret.

"He asked my opinion on announcing Prince Alaric as Crown Prince."

Beron’s eyes widened.

For a mont, disbelief clouded his face. Then, slowly, the expression shifted, first to satisfaction, then to uncertainty, then to sothing sharper and more calculating.

"Yes," Edric murmured, letting the lie settle. "It lies with you, really. If only you could count the stars in the night sky—"

"Edric."

Beron’s voice snapped with anger, and the pressure of it rolled under the floor, a subtle tremor betraying the earth-bending power in his blood.

The Terravain family could bend the earth.

Not as elegantly as so would have liked, and certainly not with the prestige the na pretended to carry—but enough to make a chamber quake if Beron lost his temper.

Edric only smirked.

"Do not shake so much, Beron," he said lightly. "I would hate for my new coat to gather dust."

Then he turned and walked away as though he had not just poured salt into the wound.

Beron stood rigidly behind him, fury rising hot and useless.

Edric’s words had struck exactly where they were ant to. The Terravains had never truly been the finest earthbenders in the kingdom. Beron’s position had co only because of Ingrid’s influence, after the previous family had been deposed from the position of the Chancellor. It was a throne built on favors, not strength. A fragile thing. One he guarded with all the desperation of a man who knew how easily it could be taken.

He clenched his fists, ready to spit sothing back.

But by then, Edric was already gone. The man had not even answered his question.

Beron drew in a slow breath and forced himself to calm down. He could not afford to lose his composure here. He had a position to maintain. And he would do whatever was necessary to keep it.

anwhile, at the end of the corridor, the King waited for Theron.

Theron noticed him at once and bowed.

"Father."

The King did not waste ti with pleasantries.

"Do you not like the bride your mother chose for you?" he asked.

Theron’s throat tightened.

He looked at his father—truly looked at him this ti, at the unyielding authority carved into every line of his face.

His jaw set.

Since when does he care for ?

For a fleeting mont, sothing sharp rose in his chest—sothing reckless, sothing that wanted to speak.

Then it stilled.

Slowly... deliberately... Theron lowered his gaze.

Because he knew how this ga was played all too well.