Chapter 70 The Perfect Scapegoat
Lilith woke to chaos.
Shouting echoed through the corridors outside her chambers, followed by the heavy sound of running boots. She scrambled out of bed, barely managing to pull on a robe before Sera burst through the door without knocking.
“They found the spy,” Sera said breathlessly. “Azrael discovered evidence in the Head Maid’s quarters. Everyone’s being summoned to the throne room.”
The Head Maid. The woman who managed the household staff, who’d served the Devil’s palace for decades. Lilith’s stomach dropped as she dressed quickly, her fingers fumbling with buttons. Something about this felt wrong, too convenient, too perfectly timed after her failed attempts to catch Machala.
The throne room was already crowded when they arrived. All seven brothers stood near the throne where the Devil sat looking more alert than Lilith had seen him in weeks, fury giving him a temporary vitality that was almost frightening. Guards lined the walls, and in the centre of the room, the Head Maid knelt with her hands bound behind her back.
Except something about her was off. Lilith couldn’t quite place it at first, just a subtle wrongness in the way she held herself, the way her eyes tracked movement around the room. Too calm for someone accused of treason. Too composed.
“Explain what you found,” the Devil said to Azrael, his voice carrying absolute authority despite its weakness.
Azrael stepped forward, holding a leather folder that looked worn with age. “I was conducting a routine inspection of the staff quarters as part of our security review. In the Head Maid’s room, hidden beneath a loose floorboard, I found these.” He opened the folder, revealing pages covered in coded script. “Intelligence reports. Detailed observations about Lady Lilith’s movements, her conversations, and her emotional state. Everything is formatted exactly like the surveillance logs Lucian discovered in his mirror network.”
Lilith’s eyes found Machala standing near the Devil’s throne, his expression appropriately grave and concerned. He met her gaze for just a fraction of a second, and in that moment, she saw it. Satisfaction. This was his doing somehow, she knew it with absolute certainty even though she had no proof.
“How long?” the Devil asked the kneeling woman.
“Six months, Your Majesty.” The Head Maid’s voice was steady, showing none of the fear someone in her position should be displaying. “I’ve been reporting to Armageddon for six months.”
Too easy. The confession came too easily, without torture or lengthy interrogation. Lilith watched the woman’s face, looking for signs of the person she’d seen managing household staff with efficient kindness for months. This wasn’t her. The face was right, the voice was similar, but something fundamental was different.
“Why?” Cain’s voice cut through the room, fire flickering along her arms. “What did he offer you that was worth betraying everything?”
“Freedom.” The Head Maid smiled, and it was wrong, all wrong. “He promised that when the kingdoms fell, I would be free to leave. No more servitude, no more bowing to masters who see me as little more than furniture.”
The Devil’s hands gripped his throne. “You threw away centuries of loyal service for a promise from our greatest enemy?”
“Loyal service.” The Head Maid laughed, and the sound raised the hair on Lilith’s arms. “Is that what you call it? I’ve spent lifetimes cleaning your palace, managing your staff, invisible unless something went wrong. Armageddon offered me value, recognition, purpose beyond scrubbing floors.”
Lucian moved closer, his mirror eyes reflecting the kneeling woman over and over. “The surveillance of Lady Lilith was sophisticated. You had help.”
“No help needed.” The Head Maid’s smile widened. “Just access and patience. I’ve been in this palace long enough to know every secret passage, every hidden entrance, every way to be somewhere I shouldn’t be without anyone noticing.”
Lilith wanted to scream that this was wrong, that the woman kneeling there wasn’t who they thought she was. But what could she say? That she had a feeling? That something seemed off? They’d already dismissed her suspicions once. If she spoke up now, she’d only confirm their belief that she was paranoid and unstable.
“What did you tell him?” Azrael’s voice was cold enough to freeze. “What intelligence did you provide?”
“Everything.” The Head Maid seemed almost proud. “Her fears about choosing between you and Lord Cain. She has doubts about the prophecy. Her attachment to the human girl. Her conversations with Lord Lucian about vulnerability and trust. Every private moment, every weakness, all of it documented and delivered.”
The room was silent except for the sound of Cain’s controlled breathing, fire dancing along her skin as she fought to maintain composure. Azrael’s expression had gone absolutely murderous, and even Belphegor looked fully awake and dangerous.
“You’ll die for this,” the Devil said quietly. “At dawn, you’ll be beheaded in the courtyard. Your body will be burned, your name will be stricken from every record, and you’ll be forgotten as thoroughly as if you never existed.”
“I expected nothing less.” The Head Maid’s calmness was unnatural, wrong in a way that made Lilith’s skin crawl. “But the damage is already done. Armageddon knows everything he needs to know. Killing me changes nothing.”
Guards moved forward to haul her to her feet. She didn’t resist, didn’t struggle, just allowed herself to be led away with the same eerie composure she’d maintained throughout the entire confrontation.
As she passed Lilith, their eyes met for just a moment. And in that brief connection, Lilith saw something that confirmed every terrible suspicion. The Head Maid’s eyes were wrong. Not the colour, not the shape, but something deeper. Something fundamental.
Those weren’t human eyes. They weren’t even demon eyes.
They were constructed eyes. Empty. Soulless. Following programming rather than feeling genuine emotion.
This wasn’t the Head Maid. This was one of Armageddon’s legion, a replica sent to take the fall for the real spy who remained hidden and protected.
The throne room emptied slowly, brothers dispersing with grim purpose, guards returning to their posts. Lilith stood frozen, watching Machala speak quietly with the Devil, his expression appropriately solemn as he discussed increased security measures.
He’d done this. Somehow, he’d killed the real Head Maid and replaced her with a construct programmed to confess. He’d planted the evidence for Azrael to find, orchestrated the entire discovery to look natural and inevitable. And now he’d eliminated a potential loose end while simultaneously convincing everyone that the spy had been caught.
“Are you alright?” Sera’s voice pulled Lilith back to the present. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine,” Lilith lied automatically. “Just processing everything.”
“It’s good they caught her.” Sera squeezed her arm gently. “Now you can stop worrying, stop looking for threats everywhere. The spy’s been found and she’ll be executed. It’s over.”
But it wasn’t over. It was just beginning, and Lilith was the only one who knew it.
She looked across the throne room to where Machala stood beside the Devil, the picture of loyal service and appropriate concern. As if sensing her attention, he glanced up and met her eyes. Just for a moment. Just long enough for her to see the cold calculation there, the satisfaction of a plan perfectly executed.
Then he returned his attention to the Devil, and Lilith was left standing there knowing the truth and having absolutely no way to prove it.
The real spy had just won. He’d sacrificed a pawn, eliminated someone who knew too much, and convinced everyone that justice had been served. And he’d done it all while making Lilith look paranoid and foolish for ever suspecting him in the first place.
No one would believe her now. Not Lucian, not the Devil, not even Sera who’d just told her to stop seeing threats everywhere.
She was completely alone in knowing that tomorrow’s execution would kill a construct while the real traitor remained free, trusted, and perfectly positioned to continue his work.
And there was nothing she could do about it.