Chapter 78 A door left open
ZEUS
The smell of burnt espresso and stress hangs thick in the air.
Heaven knows I’d rather be anywhere else and honestly, with the way daisy has been blowing up my phone, it makes me wish I hadn’t told her about it at all.
But I had to. It’s part of the plan.
Daisy’s already at the corner booth when I walk in, biting her nails, jittering her knee under the table. Her phone sits on the tabletop like it’s holding her hostage. She sees me, stands too quickly.
“Is Darian okay?” she blurts, voice low and wild.
I don’t answer right away. Instead, I glance around the café, students, freelancers, baristas pretending to care. No one’s listening. Good.
I slide into the booth.
She drops down, eyes sharp with desperation. “You said your father, he tortured him. Zeus, what the hell is going on? He was protecting Iris. He doesn’t deserve this.”
“Spare me the sermon.” I lean back. “I told you what I could. Darian made his choice.”
“He made it for Iris. You know that.” She says and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
“Yes,” I say evenly, “and now he’s bleeding for it.”
Her face crumples, just for a second. Then she leans in. “Help him. Please. You’re the only one who can. And he’s the only one that can help Iris.”
But that’s the thing, I don’t want him to help Iris. He’s perfect where he is now.
I give her a long look. Pained. Thoughtful. Just the right amount of reluctance.
Then I sigh, low and practiced. “There might be something I can do.”
She clutches my arm. Her skin is warm, soft. “You mean it?”
I nod. “But you can’t breathe a word of it. Not to anyone. Understand?”
“Yes. Yes. Whatever it takes.”
I tap the table once, then slide my phone across the screen, pretending to check messages while I speak low.
“There’s a guard shift change tonight. My father won’t be watching closely, too preoccupied with his little spy network. I’ll have one of the soldiers ‘accidentally’ leave a cell door unlocked.”
Her eyes widen. “You’re letting him escape?”
“I’m giving him a chance.” I lock eyes with her. “That’s different.”
Daisy swallows hard. She reaches out again, brushing her fingers along mine. “Thank you. Really.”
I don’t flinch, but I don’t lean in either.
“You’ve always come through,” she whispers.
I give her the faintest smile. “Someone has to.”
And because I know she’s the type that needs physical reassurance, I give her what she’s waiting for; a hug, brief but firm. Her hands curl around my back like she’s grounding herself. I let her stay for a beat longer, then pull back.
“I have to get back,” I say, standing.
“To the Haven?”
I nod. “He’ll need help after the escape. Make sure Iris stays hidden.”
She nods eagerly, like we’re partners in some secret rebellion. I can practically see the trust solidifying in her eyes.
Useful.
I slide out of the café, dial the number I already had queued.
“Devon,” I say, as the line clicks. “You’ll be on rotation tonight?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I need you to make a mistake. Minor. Just enough for Darian to think he’s lucky.”
There’s a pause. “That’s dangerous.”
“It’s not your concern. He won’t get far. I just want him moving.”
“Understood.”
I hang up before he can ask why.
\~~~
By the time I return to the Haven, dusk is curling over the compound like a tired hand. The massive steel gates swing open at the biometric scan, and I walk through the courtyard, nodding to the stationed guards.
Inside, the hall smells like roasted meat and fresh-baked bread, the kind of meal Father insists on for dinner, as if royal food keeps the power balance in check. I straighten my collar and head into the dining hall.
Father’s already seated, a goblet in hand, his face unreadable as always. The long oak table stretches between us like a chasm.
“You’re late,” he says without looking up.
“Had to check on the patrols,” I say, sliding into the chair to his left. “New placements near the Southern wall.”
“Anything?”
“Not yet.”
He hums, tearing a piece of bread. “I’ve placed informants in every district. If Iris makes a move, I’ll know.”
“She won’t,” I say, casually cutting into my steak. “She’s smarter than that.”
“She’s dangerous, not smart,” he replies. “And Darian, he’s loyal to a corpse.”
I keep chewing, expression calm.
“Let him rot another day,” Father continues. “He’ll talk.”
“If he doesn’t?”
Father shrugs. “Then he dies. Blood means less than loyalty.”
I nod slowly, letting the words sit between us.
Then,
The door bursts open.
A soldier scrambles in, panting. “Your Majesty, Prince Darian has escaped.”
The silence is immediate.
Father stands. “What?”
“We found his cell empty during the meal rounds. Chains broken. One guard injured. The others didn’t see a thing.”
I lean back in my chair, watching Father with cold interest. He’s furious, but he’s holding it down like always.
“How far could he have gotten?”
“We’re checking surveillance now,” the soldier says. “But we think he’s still within the lower compound.”
Father turns slowly toward me. “You were near the cells earlier today.”
“I was,” I admit. “No one mentioned anything unusual.”
His eyes narrow. “Strange coincidence, don’t you think?”
I tilt my head. “Or maybe your guards are just sloppy.”
He doesn’t like that. But he can’t accuse me. Not yet.
“Find him,” he barks to the soldier. “Now.”
The soldier nods and bolts.
Father turns to me. “If I find out this was you…”
“You won’t,” I say simply. “Because it wasn’t.”
He studies me. I hold his gaze.
He sees what he wants to see: obedience, annoyance, detachment.
He never sees the things he taught me to hide.
Later that night, I’m in my room, scrolling through the security feed on a private line. I find the frame I’m looking for: Darian, slipping through a utility corridor, blood staining his shirt, eyes blazing with adrenaline. Smart bastard used the maintenance shaft. Classic.
I pause the frame, screenshot it, then delete the trail.
I lean back in my chair, smiling to myself.
Let Darian run. Let him feel the wind, the fire of freedom.
He’ll think he escaped on his own terms.
Daisy will think she’s helping the rebellion.
Father will grow more paranoid, more desperate.
And me?
I’ll keep playing both sides.
Because this isn’t about Iris. It was never about Darian.
It’s about the throne.
And I don’t care how many bodies it takes to get there.