Chapter 207 - Two Hundred And Seven
The wheels of the polished black carriage crunched softly on the gravel path leading to the Royal Palace. Inside, Lord Evan stared out the window, his face calm and thoughtful. The early morning sun cast long shadows across the manicured palace grounds. Beside him, Brook sat stiffly, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He glanced occasionally at his master, a mixture of loyalty and slight nervousness in his eyes.
"Are you certain about this, My Lord?" Brook asked quietly, breaking the silence. "The Grand Duke is a powerful man. Accusing him..."
Evan turned his gaze from the window, a cool confidence in his eyes. "Power is relative, Brook. And today, information, or rather, the presentation of information, holds more power than his title." He adjusted the cuff of his immaculate jacket. "Everything proceeds as planned. Trust the process."
The carriage slowed and came to a smooth stop before the grand palace entrance. Dressed footmen hurried to open the doors. Brook exited first, turning to bowed to Evan. Evan stepped down, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He surveyed the imposing facade of the palace, the familiar stone seeming colder today. Guards in gleaming armor stood watch, their faces impassive.
Brook leaned in slightly. "They will announce us, My Lord."
Evan nodded. "Let them."
(Rewind to a few minutes earlier, in the study of Evan’s residence)
Evan stood before the desk, examining a small stack of letters bound with a simple ribbon. Brook stood nearby, holding a small wooden box.
"Is everything ready?" Evan asked, his voice low and steady. He picked up the top letter, turning it over in his hands. The paper was thick, expensive-looking parchment. A deep red wax seal, bearing the crest of the Duchy of Ryan, was pressed firmly onto the back.
"Yes, My Lord," Brook confirmed. He opened the wooden box, revealing several more identical seals and a stick of red wax. "The duplicates are ready should they be needed. The handwriting was carefully copied, as you instructed. Every loop, every dot, every stroke matches the Duke’s known correspondence."
Evan nodded, satisfied. He tapped the letters on the desk. "Good. The content is subtle enough. No direct confessions, of course. Just enough implication, enough suggestion to plant the seed of doubt and let it grow into certainty in the King’s mind."