The King's Guard

Chapter 102

Lord Eryndor’s cloak trailed softly behind him.

Archon leaned against the balcony railing. Velreth stood near the war table, his rings glinting in the lamplight as he turned a parchment over between his fingers.

“You summoned me,” Eryndor said at last, his voice carrying just enough impatience to sound like courage. “And now I’m here, standing between a Commander and a King’s dog. So what game are we playing?”

Velreth smiled faintly. “You’ve grown bolder, Eryndor. Maybe that’s why you keep losing pieces.”

Archon chuckled softly. “He’s angry, Velreth. Anger makes men predictable.”

Eryndor’s jaw tightened. “You think I don’t see what this is? You brought me here to clean your mess. Elara’s interference. The confession. The court’s suspicion…”

“The court suspects you,” Velreth interrupted mildly. “Not me.”

Archon pushed off the railing, voice cutting through the still air. “You forget something, my lord. The moment your son opened his mouth, this became your problem. But since you’re still useful, I suggest you help us control the narrative before it controls you.”

Eryndor’s hands clenched into fists. “And what narrative would that be?”

Archon smiled thinly. “Stormhaven.”

Velreth unfolded the parchment: a report stamped with the seal of Stormhaven’s emissary. “A shipment of weapons seized near the southern border. Engraved with Veridale marks.”

Eryndor frowned. “Those are our supply routes.”

“Exactly,” Velreth said. “Which means Stormhaven now believes Veridale is preparing for war. Convenient, isn’t it? They’ll demand answers, and the King will need someone to blame.”

Archon stepped closer, his voice low. “We blame Elara’s faction. Her supposed attempt to expose corruption is part of a Stormhaven misinformation campaign. A ploy to weaken our unity before they strike.”

Eryndor blinked. “And you expect the King to believe that?”

“He will,” Velreth replied smoothly. “Because he wants to. He can’t afford instability right now, not after years of strained diplomacy. He’ll need a clean explanation.”

Archon added, “And we’ll give him one. Elara becomes the traitor. Kael becomes her weapon. The rest of the squad, collateral.”

Eryndor’s mouth twisted. “You mean scapegoats.”

Archon shrugged. “Words are just masks. Pick the one that lets you sleep.”

Velreth turned toward the light filtering through the stained glass. “The King trusts me. He’ll act swiftly once he sees the evidence.”

Eryndor raised a brow. “Evidence?”

“Forged,” Archon said, “Stormhaven’s communiqués rewritten to include Elara’s signature. A few runic imprints here and there. Enough to make it convincing.”

Eryndor laughed dryly. “You’d risk forging state communication?”

“Risk?” Archon asked. “Risk is what builds thrones.”

Velreth shot him a warning glance. “Careful, Commander. Even kings can fall when ambition outpaces loyalty.”

Archon smiled faintly. “Then let’s hope mine stays in rhythm.”

The same morning, Kael stood with Elara and Kyna over an ancient rune-map spread across a stone table.

Reyna joined them, hair still damp from the early rain. “Scouts confirm movement along the northern pass,” she said. “Stormhaven troops. About a dozen.”

Kyna frowned. “Too few for a patrol, too many for a messenger party.”

Elara murmured, “Then they’re not supposed to be seen.”

Kael studied the glowing paths. “If they’re crossing this close to Veridale’s border, they’re carrying something worth hiding.”

“Or someone,” Reyna added.

Elara’s gaze lingered on Kael. “You’ve been quiet.”

“I keep thinking about the Queen,” he said softly. “If Archon and Velreth are feeding the King lies, someone inside that palace knows the truth. Someone’s keeping her out of sight.”

Elara added. “The Queen wore gold. Always. She said it reminded her that light was a burden, not a gift.”

Kyna frowned. “Then why disappear?”

Elara looked up, the candlelight catching the sharp angles of her face. “Because sometimes the only way to survive the crown’s shadow is to vanish from it.”

At the same time, within the royal council chamber, Archon presented his forged report.

“My King, the evidence speaks for itself. These are Elara’s seal and cipher. She’s trading intelligence with Stormhaven envoys under the guise of ‘exposing corruption.’”

King Elric studied the scrolls. “This is her signature.”

Velreth inclined his head. “It appears so, Majesty.”

“But why?” Elric asked, voice low. “She’s loyal. She saved Veridale more than once”

Archon replied smoothly, “Loyalty and ambition are close cousins. One feeds the other until they’re indistinguishable. Perhaps she seeks redemption through rebellion. Or perhaps she believes herself the kingdom’s conscience.”

Velreth added softly, “Even conscience can rot, given enough solitude.”

Alaric’s hand trembled slightly over the parchment. “If this is true, she’s not only betrayed me, she’s betrayed the memory of Darius.”

Archon bowed. “Then allow me to make it right.”

“Do what you must,” Alaric said quietly. “But find me proof she hasn’t lied. I need to know I haven’t lost another friend to ghosts.”

Archon smiled faintly. “As you command, my King.”

•×•×•×•×

Kael stood by the doorway, watching the storm gather over the mountains. “If they move against us, we’ll be outnumbered before nightfall.”

Elara folded the rune-map carefully. “Then we move first.”

Reyna frowned. “You want to attack?”

“No,” Elara said. “We make noise. Controlled chaos. Enough to divide their attention while I send another message through the mirror network.”

Kyna hesitated. “To who?”

Elara’s gaze flicked briefly toward the north. “To someone who still owes the Queen a favour.”

Kael asked quietly, “She’s alive, isn’t she?”

Elara didn’t answer directly. “There are rumours of a woman hidden in Stormhaven, one the court can’t name but the soldiers still salute. If those whispers hold truth, she’s waiting for the right moment.”

Kael exhaled. “And we’re supposed to give her that moment.”

Reyna placed a hand on his shoulder. “We always knew this wasn’t just about Archon.”

Kyna smirked. “Guess we’re officially traitors now.”

Night deepened over Veridale.

In his private study, Archon removed his gloves and pressed a thumb to a small mirror-shard on his desk. A faint pulse of light answered.

The reflection wasn’t his own.

It belonged to King Thorian of Stormhaven, the faintest trace of a smirk curling his lips.

“You’ve done well,” Thorian said. “Elric’s court believes the lies?”

“They will,” Archon said. “But Elara’s network is proving difficult to root out. The woman still plays the long game.”

Thorian’s tone sharpened. “Then shorten it. I want Kael Estaraj broken publicly. His mother’s blood is dangerous enough. His Rift makes him worse.”

Archon inclined his head. “It will be done.”

“And the Queen?” Thorian asked.

Archon paused. “Still hidden. But her silence benefits us. The people see devotion in her absence, the perfect illusion.”

Thorian smiled. “Then maintain it.”