Chapter 20 Arthur's Fear 3
ARTHUR'S POV
I paced the medical room like a caged animal.
Back and forth. Back and forth. My boots wore a path in the stone floor while the royal healer worked behind the closed door.
How long has it been? An hour? Two?
Every second felt like an eternity.
Silver's face kept flashing through my mind—over and over.
The door opened.
I spun around so fast I nearly knocked over a chair.
The royal healer emerged, her face grave. She was an older woman, experienced, someone who'd served the crown for decades. I'd never seen her look this serious.
"Your Highness—"
"How is she?" I cut her off, unable to wait another second.
"Lady Silver was poisoned."
The words hit like a physical blow to the chest. I'd suspected, but hearing it confirmed made it real. Made it terrible.
"That's impossible." My voice came out strangled. "She ate at my table, in my palace, under my protection. How could someone—"
"Nevertheless, Your Highness." The healer's tone was clinical, professional. "The symptoms are unmistakable. Nightveil poison."
My blood went cold.
Nightveil. It wasn't possible. The poison was incredibly expensive and rare—so how in the gods' names had it gotten into the palace?
"Is she..." I couldn't finish the question.
"She's barely breathing," the healer said quietly. "The poison is working through her system. I've given her what antidotes I have, but Nightveil is... difficult. The next few hours will determine if she survives."
The world tilted slightly.
She might die.
Silver might actually die.
"Let me see her." I moved toward the door.
The healer stepped in front of it, blocking my path. "She needs rest, Your Highness. Complete stillness. Any disturbance could make the poison work faster."
"I just need to see her face." My voice cracked, and I didn't care. "Please."
"That won't be necessary." Her tone was firm, unyielding. "What is necessary is finding who did this."
She was right. I knew she was right.
But every instinct screamed at me to push past her, to see Silver with my own eyes, to confirm she was still breathing.
Instead, I turned sharply toward the door leading to the corridor.
"Lock this room," I ordered the guards stationed outside. "No one enters except the healer. No one." I looked at each of them in turn. "If anything happens to Lady Silver, I'll have your heads. Understood?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
I strode down the hallway, my mind already working.
Someone had poisoned my wife. In my palace. At my table.
Someone was going to pay for this in blood.
"You!" I pointed at a passing servant. She froze, terrified. "Gather every servant in the palace. Kitchen staff, chamber maids, everyone. Have them assembled in the great hall immediately."
"Y-yes, Your Highness."
"And send word to the guard captain. I want every entrance and exit to the palace sealed. No one leaves. No one enters. Search everyone before they're allowed to move freely."
The servant ran to obey.
I continued walking, my pace quickening with each step. Anger burned hot in my chest, but beneath it—fear. Raw, unfamiliar fear.
When had she stopped being "the inconvenient wife" and become "Silver"?
When had the thought of losing her become unbearable?
I'd spent weeks wishing she'd stop loving me, wishing she'd give me space, wishing she'd just leave me alone.
Now she was dying, and all I wanted was one more chance to see those green eyes look at me.
I reached my father's study and didn't bother knocking.
The doors slammed open as I burst through.
The King looked up from his desk, completely unsurprised. Like he'd been expecting me.
"She might not survive," I said, my voice shaking with barely controlled rage. "My wife is dying. In our palace. Under our protection. And you're sitting here calmly reading reports?"
"Arthur—"
"You have spies everywhere, don't you, Father?" I slammed my hands on his desk, sending papers scattering. "Eyes and ears in every corner of this kingdom. So why didn't you see this coming? Why didn't you stop this?"
The King stood slowly, his expression unreadable. "Son. At times like this, anger won't solve anything. It will only cloud your judgment."
"Judgment?" I laughed, bitter and harsh. "That's one way to put it. I heard you, Father. That conversation about House Noir. About letting them fall. About cutting losses and taking down 'anything not useful.'"
His expression didn't change. Didn't even flicker. "You were eavesdropping."
"I was listening." I stepped closer, meeting his eyes. "Tell me the truth. Do you have something against the Noir family? Is that why Silver was poisoned? To eliminate their influence while the Duke and Vincent are missing?"
"You don't understand the complexities—"
"I don't care about complexity. All I see is your political games."
The King's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You think I would order the assassination of a founding house heir? That I would risk civil war, internal collapse, everything we've built, over political convenience?"
"I don't know what to think anymore!"
"That much is obvious." His voice turned cold as winter. "If you truly believe I would have Silver killed, then you've understood nothing. Her death would destabilize the entire Council of Five. The other houses would turn on us. The kingdom would tear itself apart within months." He leaned forward. "Every lesson I taught you about ruling, about strategy, about maintaining power—and you learned nothing."
"This isn't about politics!" The words burst out of me. "This is about my WIFE!"
A sharp knock interrupted.
"Enter," the King said, his eyes still fixed on me.
An old man stepped into the room. Duke Corvus, my father's spymaster. I'd seen him perhaps twice in my entire life—he was also the leader of House Thelma, one of the Five Founding Houses.
His face was expressionless, lined with age and experience. But his eyes held something that made my stomach drop.
"Your Majesty. Your Highness." He bowed slightly, precise and formal. "The poison has been identified and its source located."
"Speak," the King commanded.
"The poison is Nightveil, as the healer suspected." Corvus's voice was flat, emotionless. "A rare substance used exclusively for noble assassinations. Extremely expensive, and illegal to possess."
"Where did you find it?" I demanded before the King could ask.
Master Corvus turned those cold eyes on me. "In a locked drawer in the Crown Prince's personal chambers, Your Highness."
The world stopped.
"What?" The word came out as barely a whisper.
Corvus produced a small glass vial from his robes. Half-empty. The liquid inside was dark, almost black.
"Along with this," he continued, producing several folded letters, "we found correspondence discussing Lady Silver's... inconvenience to certain political arrangements. The benefits her death would provide. The opportunity it would create for more suitable marriages."
No.
No, this wasn't happening.
"I didn't write those letters." My voice sounded distant to my own ears. "I never — someone planted them. This is a frame. Someone is trying to—"
"A frame?" The King's voice was dangerous. Quiet. "Or a poorly executed murder attempt?"
"Father, you can't possibly believe I would poison my own wife—"
"What I believe is irrelevant." He turned to Corvus. "Who else knows about this discovery?"
"Only the three guards who conducted the search, Your Majesty. I ordered them to silence until you decided how to proceed."
The King was quiet for a long moment, his eyes moving between Corvus, the evidence on the desk, and me.
"Confine the Crown Prince to his quarters," he said finally. "Until this matter is fully investigated and resolved."
"WHAT?" I stared at him in disbelief. "Father, listen—you can't do this to me!"
He didn't respond, he just looked at me.
"Master Corvus, please—do something. It's a frame, isn't it?"
"Guards," Corvus called, and two men entered immediately. As if they'd been waiting. As if this had all been planned.
"No." I backed away from them. "I need to find who actually did this. I need to save Silver—"
The guards took my arms. Firm but not rough. They'd known me since I was a child.
"Your Highness," one of them said quietly. "Please don't make this difficult."
I looked at my father one last time. "She's going to die thinking I poisoned her. You understand that? If she wakes up and I'm arrested, she'll believe I tried to kill her."
"Then you'd better hope she survives long enough for the truth to come out." The King turned back to his desk, dismissing me. "Take him to his quarters. Full guard. No visitors."
They led me away.
Through corridors I'd walked a thousand times. Past servants who stared and whispered. Past rooms where I'd grown up, trained, learned to be a prince.
And all I could think about was Silver's face as the poison took hold.
The fear in her eyes.
The way she'd looked at me, confused, betrayed.
Someone had done this. Someone had poisoned her and framed me for it.
Cateline. It had to be Cateline. This was the "plan" she'd mentioned, the one I'd stupidly agreed to "play along" with without asking questions.
But even if I was right, even if I could prove it—
Would Silver survive long enough to hear the truth?
Or would she die believing that I, her husband, had tried to murder her?
The guards opened the door to my chambers. The same chambers where the poison had been "found."
"I'm sorry, Your Highness," one of them said as they positioned themselves outside my door.
I didn't answer.
I walked to my window and looked out over the palace grounds. I am trapped here, helpless, unable to do anything but wait.
Wait and pray she survived.
I pressed my forehead against the cold glass.
"Don't die, Silver," I whispered to the night. "Please. Don't die believing I did this."
I didn't know if I loved her. I wasn't sure I even knew what love was.
But I needed her to survive long enough to hear the truth.