Chapter 122 The Threat of Old Prejudices
Drakon’s POV
“We can save both,” I said suddenly, the thought crystallizing in my mind like a blade finally forged. “The ambassadors and the fight against the Eternal King. But first, we expose the conspiracy.”
Elara turned to me sharply, silver eyes flashing. “Expose it how? We don’t even know who all the members are. We’re chasing shadows.”
“That’s exactly why this will work,” I replied. “We make the shadows step into the light.”
Thorne stood at attention nearby, his brow furrowed. “You have something in mind, Your Majesty?”
“Yes.” I straightened, feeling the weight of the crown more heavily than ever. “We spread a rumor. Quietly. Carefully. Say we’re abandoning the diplomatic talks. That the ambassadors are being sent home. That we’ve decided unity was a mistake.”
Thorne blinked. “With respect, sir… why would we do that?”
“Because conspirators only hide when they’re losing,” I said. “If they think they’ve already won, they’ll grow careless.”
Elara’s lips parted as understanding dawned. “They’ll celebrate. Talk openly. Maybe even accelerate their plans.”
“It’s a trap,” she finished.
Thorne’s expression hardened. “I’ll see it done.”
By sunset, the rumor had spread like wildfire through dry grass. Whispers followed us down corridors. Servants avoided our eyes. Nobles clustered in tight groups, pretending to discuss trade agreements while their gazes flicked toward us with barely disguised judgment.
I watched them all.
Some faces fell when they heard. Genuine disappointment. Fear. Even grief.
Others didn’t hide their reactions well enough.
Lord Blackwood, draped in velvet arrogance, lifted his wineglass a fraction too quickly. Lady Ravencrest smiled behind her fan, eyes glittering. It was subtle, but not subtle enough.
That night, Elara and I staged our performance.
Our chamber doors were thrown open. Our voices raised. We made sure the argument echoed down the halls.
“We can’t handle this many enemies!” Elara shouted, raw frustration threaded through her voice. “Internal and external! Maybe the nobles are right! Maybe unity was too ambitious!”
“So we just give up?” I bellowed back. “Betray everyone who believed in us? Tear down everything we built?”
“Better than getting everyone killed!”
A vase shattered against the wall. A door slammed. Footsteps scattered as servants hurried away, carrying every word.
Then silence.
Moments later, Elara slipped through the hidden panel behind the tapestry, her hand finding mine in the dark. No words were needed. We both felt it, the shift, the sense of something moving beneath the surface of the castle.
We followed Lord Blackwood through secret passages older than the kingdom itself, stone worn smooth by generations of hidden feet. He didn’t look over his shoulder once. Confidence made men careless.
He stopped at a concealed door deep beneath the castle. Light spilled out as it opened. Voices followed.
We pressed ourselves against the cold stone, ears straining.
“told you they’d break eventually!” Blackwood sneered. “These common-born fools don’t have the stomach for real leadership!”
“So the plan proceeds?” a woman asked coolly.
Lady Ravencrest.
“We assassinate the ambassadors during the battle?” she continued. “Frame the Dragon King?”
“Yes,” Blackwood said. “But why wait for the battle?”
A third voice joined them; male, smooth, unsettlingly familiar. “Kill them tonight. Blame it on the Eternal King’s advance forces. It’s more believable.”
My stomach twisted.
Elara’s fingers tightened around mine.
“How many nobles are with us?” Blackwood asked.
“Fifteen confirmed. Maybe twenty more sympathetic,” the man replied. “Enough to trigger civil war if the Dragon King resists.”
“And our demands?” Ravencrest asked.
“End all unity programs. Expel magical creatures from positions of power. Return to the old ways.” His voice dripped certainty. “Humans ruling humans. Magic ruling magic. The natural order.”
“And if they refuse?”
A pause. Then, softly: “We kill them too. Make it look like the Eternal King did it. Install a puppet ruler.”
Rage burned through me like dragonfire.
I kicked the door open.
“Enough,” I growled. “You’re all under arrest for conspiracy and treason.”
Guards surged in behind me, blades drawn.
But only three nobles sat at the table.
Blackwood. Ravencrest. And Lord Thornbury.
One of my father’s most trusted advisors.
“Where are the others?” Elara demanded. “You said fifteen!”
Thornbury leaned back, folding his hands, utterly calm. “Exactly where they need to be.”
Cold dread slid down my spine. “Explain.”
“Our backup plan,” he said pleasantly. “Initiated the moment you discovered this one.”
My heart pounded. “What backup plan?”
Thornbury smiled.
“The one where we poison the ambassadors’ dinner,” he said. “Which began ten minutes ago.”
Time shattered.
We ran.
Boots thundered against stone. Torches blurred past. Every second felt stolen, borrowed, insufficient.
We burst into the diplomatic dining hall.
Six ambassadors sat at the long table. Or rather collapsed around it.
Hands clawed at throats. Faces turned purple. Gasping, choking, dying.
“Healers!” I roared. “Now!”
Elara was already moving, magic blazing from her hands as she knelt beside the nearest ambassador. Silver light poured into failing bodies, but poison was a cruel enemy. It twisted healing spells, turned them inward.
The Merfolk ambassador convulsed once… then went still.
“No!” Elara whispered.
The Mountain Clan representative followed seconds later, his massive form crashing to the floor.
Elara moved desperately, sweat streaking her face, magic flaring brighter with each attempt.
Two more ambassadors died in her arms.
Only two survived barely. Unconscious. Breathing shallowly.
The hall fell silent except for sobbing servants and the crackle of dying magic.
“Four dead,” Thorne said grimly, arriving with reinforcements. “Their kingdoms will declare war. They’ll believe we ordered this.”
Elara sank back on her heels, trembling. “The Order of Pure Blood wins either way. If we fight the Eternal King, we’re weakened by civil war. If we fight civil war, we’re destroyed by the Eternal King.”
I stared at the bodies, fury and guilt warring inside me. “We exposed them,” I said hoarsely. “But not in time.”
“And there are still others,” Thorne added. “Twelve at least.”
“We find them,” I said. “Tonight. Before dawn.”
“But how?” Elara asked softly. “They could be anyone.”
Before I could answer, a guard rushed in, breathless.
“Your Majesty! Thornbury’s rooms, we searched them. We found this.”
He handed me a folded parchment.
A list, fifteen of them.
My hands shook as I read.
“No,” I whispered. “Not them.”
Elara leaned over my shoulder. Her breath caught.
At the top of the list, written clearly and unmistakably, was a name that shattered what little certainty we had left.
Lily Moonstone.
My sister-in-law.
Elara’s beloved sister.
A co-conspirator.
The threat wasn’t just old prejudices.
It was betrayal, cutting straight through the heart of everything we trusted.