Beast Gacha System: All Mine

Ivy asked casually, as though she were asking about the evening’s menu rather than the fate of a woman who had just publicly accused the Crown Prince of patricide.

"Although what she has done until now deserves it," Damon answered, "she is still my siblings’ mother."

"I will teach them how to deal with their mother once everything calms down."

"Then," she said, and her grip on his elbow tightened just slightly, "who are you going to blame for it?"

"Me?"

"You planned it all." He said flatly. "But you also would not give me a way out?"

"I did not." Ivy’s glare matched his, needle for needle, spark for spark. "Just select one of your random political opponents and be done with it."

The court would tear apart any explanation that did not account for the extraordinary circumstances of the Emperor’s death. A random noble with a petty grievance could not have done it.

Damon stopped walking.

His hand came up and grasped her jaw. He shook her face from side to side in short, exasperated jerks.

"Awawawawawawawawa—"

"S-stawph—" Her eyes crossed slightly from the motion, her vision blurring. "I will get you the solution—"

He looked at her and despite everything, he wheezed. He saw Ivy blinking, uncrossing her eyes with visible effort.

"Pick a family you do not like." Ivy rubbed her cheeks with one hand, glaring at him without any real heat. "And drop the name ’Roarke’ as the hired assassin."

Damon’s amusement faded. His eyes narrowed.

"Do you remember the series of assassinations of the southern beast tribes’ chiefs and lords earlier this year?" Ivy asked. "It was him. Every single one. Clean. Untraceable. No survivors to identify him, only rumors and fear."

"I believe that if he was the one who was paid for it, he would definitely be able to achieve it. Even with the tightened security from the prophecy. His reputation alone would make the explanation plausible."

"You are... remarkably certain of this." He said. "Did you ever have the pleasure of using him?"

Damon clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "I do not believe you."

But even as he said it, Damon’s mind was already turning the suggestion over, examining it from every angle.

Roarke. A blade with a name in the dark that even Cecilia had failed to illuminate.

"Plant a proof~" Ivy sang, her voice lilting and playful, the melody of a nursery rhyme completely twisted. "Plant the name~ Make it plausible and logical~"

Damon chuckled helplessly.

The black marble gave way to arched windows, and the arched windows gave way to double doors of wrought iron and frosted glass. Damon pushed through them, and the garden opened before them like a sigh.

They were arriving at the perfect time.

And walking toward them from the opposite direction, tall, majestic, moving with the grace of something that had learned to walk on two legs but had never forgotten how to run on four, was Arkai Dawnoro.

He wore a black northern tunic, simple in cut but rich in fabric. His fur coat was heavy, his dark hair was pulled back neatly, revealing the sharp planes of his face, the stern set of his jaw, the eyes that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.

Damon’s eyes chilled.

But Ivy, whose arm was still linked through his, felt the shift as clearly as she would have felt a door slam shut in an empty house.

She could not have said what. She could not have pointed to any single sign. But she had spent enough time in Damon’s company to recognize the stillness that preceded violence.

Damon greeted smoothly like a normal crown prince normally greeting a normal visiting dignitary. But there was something in his tone, a frequency that only certain ears could catch. Ivy heard it, and beneath her black veil, Cecilia heard it too.

"Your Highness, Crown Prince Damon."

"Extending a last prayer for a good colleague is a privilege for me." His voice rumbled like distant thunder. "Please, it is my good fortune that I had the chance to attend the funeral before he is buried."

Damon smiled.

Lady Sees flinched.

"My fair lady."

"It must also be a fortune for you to catch the eye of the Black Wolf King of the North."

"You must have gone through a major life and death scenario to be with him, did you not?"

Arkai smelled it. A real, dangerous threat.