Chapter 89 The quiet betrayal
ZEUS
Father doesn’t scream. He doesn’t throw things. He doesn’t need to, his silence is even more dangerous.
He just stands there, at the head of the long war table, hands resting flat on the polished surface like he could crush the entire palace beneath his palms if he wanted to. His eyes burn into me, sharp and wild with fury, and I think for a second that he might actually strike me. I almost wish he would. It would be easier than this.
“This was your post,” he says quietly, and somehow the quiet is worse than shouting. “Your charge. Your blood.”
I don’t answer yet. I know better. Let him talk. Let him empty the barrel before he reloads.
He pushes off the table, pacing. “I trusted you. I gave you authority over the estate’s security. I handed you your brother in chains. And you,” He turns suddenly, pointing a finger at me like a sword. “You let him walk out.”
“He didn’t walk,” I say before I can stop myself. “He was broken out.”
“By your other two brothers!” Father slams his fist onto the table hard enough to rattle the iron candleholders. “Adrian and Kelvin. Right here under our noses.”
That stings. Not because he’s wrong. Because I hadn’t seen it coming. I should have. The signs were there, the sneaking around, the whispered conversations, Adrian’s too-casual sarcasm masking something sharper. But I ignored it.
And now Darian is gone. Because of them.
Because of me.
“They’ve been planning this for days,” Father snarls. “Weeks, maybe. You didn’t notice? Or did you notice and simply fail to act?”
“I didn’t know,” I say, jaw tight.
“No,” he hisses. “You didn’t want to know.”
The words hit harder than they should. Because deep down, I think he might be right.
There was a part of me that saw something coming.
Adrian doesn’t hold his tongue well when he’s hiding something. And Kelvin’s anxiety has always read like a book. But I didn’t press. I didn’t ask questions. I told myself I was too busy overseeing patrols, too busy obeying orders. But the truth is simpler.
I didn’t stop them because part of me didn’t want to.
And Father knows it.
He walks toward me slowly, each step deliberate. “You always had a soft spot for them. You always let them get away with things no commander would tolerate. Do you know what that makes you?”
I force my shoulders back. “Loyal.”
He slaps me.
Hard.
The sound rings out in the chamber like a shot. I taste blood. My jaw aches.
“You’re weak,” he says, low and venomous. “And that weakness has cost us gravely! Iris was unprotected and vulnerable and now, with Darian escaping,” he jabs a finger in my chest, “it puts everything we’ve built at risk.”
I don’t let myself react. Not outwardly. Not while he’s watching.
“Darian’s the one who protected her,” I say through gritted teeth. “And now that he’s free, he’ll do it again.”
“Exactly,” Father snaps. “And if he hides her from us, if he turns her against the cause, then she becomes a liability. He becomes a liability. And then who would rule?”
Here we go again.
I see it in his face, the moment he shifts from angry to calculating. That dangerous edge to his tone. The one that means he’s about to burn something down just to feel like a god again.
“You will find them,” he says, cold and final. “You will drag them back in chains, or you will not return at all. Is that understood?”
I nod.
But I don’t say yes.
Because he’s wrong.
About all of it.
When I finally leave the war chamber, my ears are still ringing. My face still burns from the slap, and every step down the corridor feels like I’m dragging the weight of this family behind me like a corpse no one wants to bury.
The guards in the hallway don’t meet my eyes. They’ve heard. Everyone has. Rumors move faster than orders in this place.
And still, beneath the humiliation, beneath the fury, I feel something else.
Relief, satisfaction.
Darian is the only person who’ll ruin Darian. Saving Iris will cost him the throne abd that’s exactly what I need.
I return to my quarters, lock the door, and sink into the chair by the window, pressing a cloth to the corner of my mouth where the skin split.
A small mercy, I suppose. He didn’t draw blood with a ring.
I stare out at the moonlit gardens, watching the shadows ripple over the hedges. Somewhere out there, my brothers are running. Hiding. Plotting.
And good for them.
Let Father rage.
Let him rant and threaten and send every hunter he has into the wild.
Because the more desperate he becomes, the faster action is taken and things can fall into place as soon as possible.
And when that happens, when the old god falls, I’ll be ready.
A knock at the door pulls me from the quiet. I wipe the blood from my chin and call out, “Enter.”
It’s one of my personal guards, Cale. Dangerous in the ways I need.
He bows slightly. “We’ve secured the eastern perimeter. No new tracks, but there was a false trail laid near the servants’ exit. They’re covering their escape well.”
“They had help,” I say.
“Yes, sir. And planning.”
I nod slowly. “They’ve made it outside the estate. By now they’re hours ahead.”
“What are your orders?”
I pause.
The answer Father expects is obvious: mobilize the scouts. Close the borders. Hunt them down with every resource we have.
But what I want is different.
What I want is for them to get farther.
Stronger.
I need them to last long enough to unravel this from the outside.
But I can’t say that.
Not yet.
“Double patrols in the forest,” I say. “Have the scouts report every four hours. Quietly. No public alarm.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Cale, ” I look him dead in the eyes. “If you find them, don’t act unless I give the command myself.”
His brow furrows, but he nods. “Understood.”
I watch him leave.
And then I exhale.
This is the game now.
Not swords. Not spells. Not brute force.
But patience.
Timing.
Control.
Father thinks this is a war. That he’s winning.
But it’s not a war.
It’s a slow dethroning.
He just doesn’t know it yet.
And Darian, he’ll protect Iris with everything he has. Which means she’s safer now than she’s ever been, which means I am, too.
All I have to do is keep pretending for just a little longer.
Obey, kneel, and wait until the crown slides into my hands like it was always meant to.