Chapter 92 Conspiracy
Deep in the palace,
Margot paced with barely contained fury. "He saved her. Actually petitioned the King and saved her from proper punishment. Who does Keal think he is?"
"A complication." Garrett leaned against the wall, his expression annoyed. "Though not an insurmountable one. The Delta lives in the forest most of the year. He won't remain interested in palace politics long."
"You're missing the bigger problem." Magrot voice cut through their bickering. "Adrian took her to his chambers. Personally treated her wounds. That suggests the bond isn't as severed as we thought."
Margot stopped pacing and faced Freya. "You said the ritual was complete. You said it was permanent."
"I said it should be permanent." Freya's eyes narrowed. “She would never remember as long as she and Adrain never be in good terms to stir emotions.“
"Lila needs to disappear.“ Garrett's voice was cold. “Permanently this time. No trials, no rituals, no chances for things to reconnect. Just gone."
"And how do you propose we accomplish that?" Margot asked. "She's in the King's chambers under his personal protection now. We can't just walk in and kill her."
"We don't have to." A new voice spoke from the shadows.
All three turned. A figure stepped into the dim candlelight, face obscured by a hooded cloak.
"There are other ways to eliminate problems," the figure continued. "Ways that look like accidents or natural causes. Ways that even the King won't question."
"Who are you?" Garrett demanded, hand moving to his weapon.
"Someone with more resources and reach than the three of you combined." The figure's voice was smooth, educated, clearly accustomed to authority. "And someone who wants Lila Hartwell erased just as thoroughly as her sister was."
Freya leaned forward, eyes gleaming with interest. "You arranged Celeste's death."
"I arranged for the opportunity. Garrett here did the actual work." The figure turned toward Margot. "Your role was to ensure suspicion fell elsewhere. Which you failed at spectacularly, I might add."
Margot bristled but said nothing.
"The point," the figure continued, "is that we've already killed a queen and gotten away with it. A disgraced servant with no memory and no allies? That should be simple. But it requires coordination. Planning. And the discipline to wait for the perfect moment."
"Who says we're working with you?" Garrett challenged.
"The fact that you're all here, meeting in secret, proves you need help." The figure moved toward the door. "I'll be in touch with specifics. For now, just watch. Wait. And don't do anything stupid that might alert Adrian before we're ready."
The figure vanished into the corridor, leaving the three conspirators staring after them.
"I don't like this," Margot said quietly. "We don't even know if we can trust him."
"Does it matter?" Freya's smile was cold. "They want Lila dead. We want Lila dead. The enemy of our enemy is our ally."
"Or our next victim," Garrett muttered. "But for now, we play along."
They dispersed separately, each leaving by different routes to avoid suspicion.
None of them noticed the small figure pressed into the shadows near the ceiling beams. Maya had followed Margot from the punishment hall, curious about where the exiled woman would go first upon returning.
Now she'd heard everything. The conspiracy was bigger than anyone knew. Someone powerful, someone still hidden, had orchestrated Celeste's murder and now planned the same for Lila.
And Lila, with no memory of any of this, was sleeping in the King's chambers completely unaware that her enemies were closing in.
Maya slipped away silently. She needed to warn someone. But who? Sydney? Keal? The King himself?
Each option carried risks. Each choice could trigger the very disaster they were trying to prevent.
For now, all Maya could do was watch. And pray she could find a way to protect Lila before it was too late.
In Adrian's chambers, Lila drifted in and out of consciousness, her back burning despite the medicine. In her dreams, she saw Celeste laughing. Saw masked figures moving through shadows. Saw a hooded person whose face she couldn't quite see.