Chapter 60: THE ROYAL CONSPIRACY
The fetid stench of decay hung in the air of the abandoned undercroft beneath the eastern wing of the Royal Palace. Reed crouched in the shadows, his breathing controlled despite the miasma that surrounded him. Beside him, Shia remained perfectly still, her silver-blue hair concealed beneath a hood of charmed fabric that absorbed light rather than reflecting it.
"Are you certain of what you saw?" Reed whispered, his voice barely audible even in the silence.
Shia nodded once, her eyes never leaving the ornate door across the chamber. "The prince entered this passage three nights consecutively. Each time, he carried a leather-bound case stained with what could only be blood."
Four days had passed since the trap at the Whispering Grotto. Reed and a fraction of his forces had managed to escape the portal before it collapsed completely, but many had not been so fortunate. Lady Serena’s knights and half his goblin elite squad had been lost—either killed outright or trapped on the other side. The memory of their screams as the portal imploded still haunted his nights.
"Lord Vermillion’s information matches what we’ve observed," Reed mused, touching the artifact at his belt—one of the few that still functioned after the ambush. "But I find it difficult to believe the Crown Prince himself is orchestrating this."
"Believe it," came a gravelly voice from behind them.
Reed spun, blade half-drawn before he recognized Magnus emerging from a hidden alcove. The old warrior looked worse than Reed had ever seen him—one eye now covered with a leather patch, his once-imposing frame diminished by recent wounds.
"The Council of Shadows has confirmed it," Magnus continued, settling beside them with a winced effort. "Three separate sources, including one within the prince’s personal retinue."
The "Council of Shadows" was Reed’s creation—a desperate measure formed after their near-defeat at the Grotto. It consisted of the surviving Lords loyal to their cause, operating in absolute secrecy from various positions throughout the capital. Lady Dalia coordinated their intelligence gathering from a safe house in the merchant quarter, while Lord Everett’s remaining shadow-warriors infiltrated the palace guard.
"What of the king?" Reed asked.
Magnus’s expression darkened. "Catatonic. The royal physicians claim it’s the lingering effect of the attack months ago, but our sources say he hasn’t spoken a coherent word in weeks. The Chancellor rules in his name, with the prince’s backing."