Chapter 129: The Trial Is In Two Days
Draeven looked up from his documents as the office door opened.
For a moment, he simply watched as the hooded figure stepped inside.
The hood was still up, the face still obscured by shadow.
But then the figure reached up and drew back the hood, revealing himself.
Simon was exactly as Draeven remembered him, though it had been years since they had last met.
The sharp features, marked with scars. The intelligent dark eyes that seemed to see through to the essence of things. The bearing of absolute competence and capability.
A man who had spent his entire life operating in the spaces between official and unofficial, between legal and illegal, between what was known and what was deliberately hidden.
Simon bowed with the precise grace of someone trained in courtly protocol, though his life was lived far from courts and courtly manners.
"Your Majesty," he said, his voice low and measured. "You called for me."
Draeven set down his quill and gestured for Simon to approach.
"Yes," Draeven said simply. "I have a task for you."
Simon moved into the office with the kind of fluid grace that suggested he was comfortable in any environment.
He came to stand before Draeven’s desk, his bearing perfectly respectful.
"I have a task for you," Draeven repeated, his eyes never leaving Simon’s face. "It involves the noble daughters who came to the palace for the selection process."
He paused, gauging Simon’s reaction.
"You should understand what I’m saying, right?" Draeven asked, his voice carrying layers of meaning beneath the surface words.
Simon’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted in his eyes....a recognition of the complexity of what was being asked.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Simon said calmly. "I understand. But who exactly do you want me to investigate?"
Draeven leaned back in his chair.
"Lady Isolde," he said, speaking the name with absolute certainty. "She is the primary subject. I need you to find out if she has been receiving information from outside the palace....from her family, since she arrived here."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"I also need you to investigate a matter of theft that has occurred in the palace," Draeven continued. "A necklace belonging to Lady Margot was allegedly stolen and then found in the possession of a servant girl. The girl has been arrested and is currently awaiting trial."
Simon’s eyes narrowed slightly. Not from confusion, but from understanding the weight of what Draeven was implying.
"I need to know what actually happened," Draeven said, his voice becoming quieter and more intense. "Both the seen and the unseen. The said and the unsaid. I need to know who orchestrated everything."
He leaned forward slightly.
"And I need you to find out if there were accomplices," Draeven continued. "If this was orchestrated by one person or if there were others involved. I need names, evidence, proof, and the complete truth."
Simon was absolutely still, listening with the intensity of someone who understood that the answer to this task could change the entire political landscape of the kingdom.
"I need you to move fast," Draeven said, and now there was an edge to his voice, an edge of desperation. "The trial is in two days. I need to have the information before then. Can you do this?"
It was not really a question. It was a statement of necessity mixed with a question of capability.
Simon bowed deeply, the movement precise and perfect.
"As you wish, Your Majesty," he said, his voice formal and final. "I will have all the information ready before then."
He straightened, and for just a moment, his eyes met Draeven’s directly.
In that moment was an understanding that passed between them, a recognition of the weight of what was being asked, the urgency, the stakes, the fact that a person’s life depended on Simon’s success.
Then Simon turned toward the door.
He moved with that same fluid grace, crossing the office in just a few steps.
He reached the door and opened it.
Stepped into the corridor.
And as Draeven watched, the spy seemed to dissolve into the shadows of the hallway.
***
Draeven sat in the silence of his office.
The afternoon light was fading now, shifting toward the gold of early evening.
Outside his windows, the palace grounds were bathed in the warm glow of late day. Servants moved about their evening duties. The world continued its normal progression toward nightfall.
But inside the office, there was only silence.
And in that silence, Draeven’s mind returned to where it had been trying to go all afternoon.
To Morgana.
He thought of her in the dungeons...alone, terrified, facing the knowledge that in two days, she would stand trial for a crime she didn’t commit.
That in two days, she would face the council’s judgment and likely their condemnation.
What was she thinking right now?
What was she feeling?
Was she sitting on her cell, staring at the wall? Was she pacing the small cell, desperate for escape? Was she crying? Was she beyond crying?
Draeven closed his eyes and tried to center himself.
But the images kept coming one after the other.
Her face when she was in the stables, watching the horses with a kind of peace that suggested she had found something in that work that brought her solace.
Her eyes when she had looked at him in moments when she thought no one was watching, a look that suggested she understood something about him, recognized something in him, felt something toward him that went beyond the normal relationship between king and servant.
He tried to imagine her terror when the necklace was found in her room.
Her fear when she was taken to the dungeon.
Her despair in the dungeons.
And now, potentially, her doom.
Unless Simon could find the proof in time to prove her innocent.
Draeven opened his eyes and forced himself to breathe.
Two days.
Simon had two days.
And if Simon couldn’t accomplish this in two days, then Morgana would die.