Chapter 111

I read the decrypted message once more, my mind racing to grasp its meaning. The name Tori instantly connected the dots—she was Varen's mother. I remembered Varen recounting how Selene had plotted to poison Tori while she was pregnant. But this message suggested something more sinister. It implied that Selene had intended to kill Tori before she even conceived. Yet, for reasons unknown, the plan had failed. One cryptic note wasn’t enough evidence, but what if the other messages offered a broader context?

I picked up another slip of parchment and scrutinized it. Judging by the handwriting, it appeared to be written by the same person. This gave me a glimmer of hope; perhaps using the same keyword to decipher it would yield results. With a deep breath, I tested the keyword, and relief washed over me as it worked. For the first time in hours, I allowed myself to pray that this note might provide something more concrete.

"Our spy became the King's concubine's maid.

The spy's name is Kat. The King's concubine believed that Kat is a human. She will deliver the poison with the concubine's food."

Reading the message aloud sent a chill down my spine. My immediate thought was that this, too, was about Varen’s mother. Varen had mentioned before that Tori surrounded herself with loyal servants, all of whom had vampire blood coursing through their veins. It would have been nearly impossible for Selene to infiltrate such a circle. But if Selene needed someone unassuming to carry out her plans, someone who could slip under the radar, a human spy would have been the perfect choice. Yet this note suggested that Kat only appeared to be human. If that were the case, then who—or what—was she?

“God, it’d be so much easier if I knew who wrote this damn message!” I growled, glaring at the paper.

Then, I noticed it—a faint mark in the corner of the note. At first glance, it was nothing more than a smudge, but as I leaned closer, shapes began to emerge. It was a name: Eamon, with an unclear symbol preceding it. I blinked a few times, straining my eyes to decipher the rest. Unfortunately, superhuman vision wasn’t one of the talents I’d acquired. A magnifying glass would have been a godsend, but there was no chance of finding one in my chambers. With a sigh of frustration, I resigned myself to leaving Mr. Eamon’s identity shrouded in mystery—for now. The name felt eerily familiar, though. Where had I heard it before?

Shaking off my uncertainty, I grabbed another note and fed it into the decipherer, using the same keyword. This time, it didn’t work. The failure hit me like a blow, leaving me disheartened. The thought of going through the dictionary again made my stomach churn. Despite deciphering two messages, I was still nowhere near proving Selene’s guilt in a way that would hold up in the vampire court.

Still, I needed to update Varen. I instructed Freya to find a servant who could deliver a message to him about my modest breakthrough, then allowed myself a brief coffee break. Just as I lifted the mug to my lips, a sharp knock interrupted me.

“Come in,” I called, assuming it was Freya.

Instead, Varen stormed into the room, his eyes alight with urgency. “So… what do you have?” he demanded, his gaze darting to the papers on the table.

His eagerness tugged a smile from me, momentarily lifting my spirits. Once I handed him the decoded messages, his agitation only grew.

“This is about my mother…” he muttered, pacing the room. Suddenly, he stopped and slammed his fist against the wall. “They were planning to murder her!”

“Varen, calm down,” I said, grasping his arm firmly. “You already knew Selene poisoned her.”

“Yes, but I never had any proof until now.” His voice cracked with anguish, and his expression mirrored the depth of his pain.

I understood his reaction all too well. This was more than just uncovering the truth—it was confirmation of Selene’s treachery. Yet, no matter how damning, the vampire court would never convict a noble vampire for conspiring to kill a human.

“Varen,” I said softly, “we need more evidence. Think carefully. Do you recall anyone meeting this ‘Kat’ mentioned in the message? Or maybe someone who might have known her?”

“No,” he replied, his voice heavy with frustration. “My father never cared about finding the culprits. After my mother died, he executed all her servants in a fit of rage, blaming them for her death. If anyone knew about Kat, they’re long dead.”

I frowned, wishing for a breakthrough. “If only we could figure out who this Eamon is…” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

“Who?” Varen asked, snapping his gaze to me.

I hesitated, then pointed to the faint signature on the note. Varen took it, squinting as he studied the small markings.

“There’s a Greek beta symbol here,” he said after a moment.

“What?” I blinked in confusion. “Where?”

“Right before the name. It’s subtle, but it’s definitely a beta.”

“Beta… Eamon?” I repeated, turning the name over in my mind. Then, like a bolt of lightning, it struck me. Eamon. My father’s former second-in-command.

Oberon had described him once, calling him a vicious sociopath. According to him, if Eamon hadn’t served under my father, he would have become an Alpha himself—a leader of a pack of bloodthirsty wolves.

The realization sent a shiver through me. What role had Eamon played in all of this?

"This could be the proof we’ve been looking for!" I exclaimed, a triumphant grin spreading across my face. "It all makes sense now!"

"Thalassa, take a deep breath and explain slowly," Varen interjected, his calm voice grounding my excitement.

“The author of these messages, Beta Eamon, must have been your father’s Beta. The note mentioned your mother believed Kat was human, but that means she wasn’t human. Kat must have been an odorless werewolf,” I explained, my voice trembling with both agitation and determination.

Varen’s face lit up with a radiant smile, and before I could process it, he wrapped me in a tight hug. “Thalassa... if we can prove Selene’s secret collaboration with werewolves, she’ll lose her crown!”

His words filled me with renewed energy, like a surge of electricity coursing through my veins. For the first time in days, I felt unstoppable—ready to decode every remaining note if it meant exposing Selene’s crimes. We resolved to work relentlessly until we uncovered the full truth.

"One more thing," Varen added as he turned to leave. "Selene speaks French, Italian, and Spanish. The keyword doesn’t have to be in English."

I stared at him in disbelief. "You’re joking, right? Are you seriously expecting me to go through three more dictionaries in search of a keyword?”

He smirked, an infuriating gleam in his eyes. “Just remember Ockham’s Razor, Thalassa—the simplest explanation is usually the most effective.”

With that, he disappeared through the door, leaving me to wrestle with the implications of his advice. I sat back at my desk, staring at the undeciphered message on my screen. Grabbing my worn-out dictionary, I flipped it open to the letter “A,” prepared to start testing keywords again. But something made me pause.

“Ockham’s Razor...” I muttered, a sly smile creeping across my lips. My fingers hesitated above the keyboard before typing puissance, the French word for “power.”

Part of me scoffed at the simplicity of the idea. The logical part of my brain mocked me for even attempting it, but I pressed enter anyway, hoping for the best.

A cold shiver raced down my spine as the coded sequence transformed into readable sentences. But as I read the words, a wave of nausea overcame me, freezing the blood in my veins.

“We are ready to act at the full moon. In the evening, Young Lord Kessler will be sedated.

Our people working in the Kessler Castle’s kitchen are going to add the potion to Young Lord’s dinner. Once the sedative starts working, we will inject him with a mix of mercury and silver. We can assure the Princess that Young Lord won’t be able to control his bloodlust. Precautiously, we fed that human a sedative as well, so she won’t be able to escape or survive the Lord’s bloodlust attack.”

Tears blurred my vision, spilling freely as my chest tightened with sorrow. My heart ached, shattered by the truth I had uncovered. Hadrian’s greatest agony, the weight of his guilt, had been orchestrated by the woman who dared to call herself his Queen.

He needed to know. He deserved to know. I bolted from my chair, clutching the decoded note, and ran down the corridor without a care for who might see me. My only thought was reaching Hadrian—telling him everything.

I skidded to a halt outside his chamber, my hand poised to wrench the door open. But as I touched the handle, voices from inside froze me in place.

“I don’t get it, Hadrian. Why do you keep that human by your side?” Selene’s voice dripped with venomous curiosity, her vicious giggle unmistakable.

I pulled my hand back instinctively but remained by the door, my heart hammering in my chest.

“She’s... useful,” Hadrian replied, his voice deepening seductively.

The air seemed to leave my lungs in one painful rush.

This is just a game, I told myself desperately. Hadrian’s playing Selene. None of this is real.

“And how exactly is she useful?” Selene pressed, her voice lilting with mocking curiosity.

There was a pause, followed by a sound—a wet smack—that turned my stomach. I clung to the hope that it was just my imagination.

“Her blood makes me powerful,” Hadrian answered smoothly, his tone laced with wicked amusement. “With her, I can become the strongest of all races. I need her to conquer the werewolves’ lands.”

My knees nearly buckled. The world tilted as Selene let out an excited moan, the sound piercing through my chest like a dagger. I clapped a trembling hand over my mouth, holding back a scream as tears poured down my face.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.

“And what will you do with her... once you’ve defeated the wolves?” Selene purred, her breathless tone making bile rise in my throat.

I held my breath, closing my eyes tightly as if it could block out the scene unfolding before me.

Hadrian chuckled darkly, his voice turning cold. “Once I’m done, I’m going to kill her.”