Chapter 19 THE MASKED MAN
He read it again anyway, the queen’s elegant script slicing through the silence.
Rylan,
You have served me faithfully, quietly, and without question. But I fear the lastborn might get the inheritance of the firstborn. So I ask a favor from you. What I ask now must remain forever hidden.
Prince Eric’s path must be halted, merely… stilled. Paralyze him temporarily. It will smooth the transition for his brother when the time comes.
Do this swiftly, cleanly, and with no trace pointing back to us.
When it is done, leave the palace until I recall you.
He had read it at least a dozen times since she’d secretly handed it to him weeks earlier.
And now, with the queen’s order completed and the palace roaring with chaos, Rylan sat alone, remembering how everything had gone wrong.
How everything had spiraled beyond the plan.
He closed his eyes, and the memory unfolded once more…
A week earlier, Prince Eric walked into the royal council chamber with his usual calm confidence. He wore his wedding robe, a simple tunic of deep blue, and his expression carried that mix of warmth and uncertainty that made most of the palace trust him instinctively.
Behind him, Rylan walked with deliberate neutrality. He was placed by the queen to be a guard that day and they were meant to be shadows, present but unseen. Yet Rylan was painfully aware of every step he took.
He was about to betray the prince or at least… do something that felt like betrayal.
Instructions from the queen echoed in his mind:
“Not death, or harm. Merely stillness is like paralysis. A pause.”
But Rylan had long learned that even the softest words could hide knives.
The king's chamber doors opened, and King Jerrmy looked up from the map he was studying.
“You’re late,” the king said, though without anger.
Eric bowed lightly. “My apologies. I stopped to help a servant whose tray had fallen.”
Prince Adrian, standing beside the king with arms folded, scoffed softly. “Always the hero.”
Eric shot him a look. “Always the human.”
Prince Adrain came in afterward with Princess Athalia.
Rylan stood behind them, blending with the guards along the walls. He kept his breathing steady, though his pulse raced.
Because he had already slipped the potion into Prince Eric’s drink fifteen minutes earlier.
A mild paralyzing blend was gentle, subtle and not immediately noticeable. It was meant to weaken the prince’s limbs, slow his reflexes and make him unfitting to attend active royal duties or stand in court.
Temporarily and not cruel or so the queen had said.
Rylan had done his part. The plan should have ended with Eric quietly collapsing or requesting to rest after drinking and nothing more.
But fate twisted plans the way storms bent trees.
His brother stormed out with Princess Adrain after their long discussion with the king concerning ruling.
Eric reached for the goblet set beside him and took a small sip.
Rylan held his breath.
Nothing happened.
The king stood up and walked out of the chambers with Eric following closely holding his cup. Rylan excused himself and followed them observing.
He took another sip.
Eric blinked once, confused.
Rylan felt a knot tighten in his chest. He guessed It was starting.
The prince’s movements subtly slowed. He shifted uncomfortably, adjusting his grip on the goblet. A light tremor touched his fingers.
The king noticed.
“Eric, are you well?”
“Yes,” Eric said, though his voice sounded faintly distant. “Just warm. The room feels… different.”
Adrian smirked. “Perhaps you should train more and drink less.”
Eric ignored the jab.
They were now at the west courtyard. Rylan steadied his stance. The potion was doing its work. Soon, the prince would slur his words, feel heavy and perhaps ask to retire.
One more sip and Rylan would escort him out, claim he’d fallen ill, and the matter would end there.
But then…
A guard walked past Rylan. A guard Rylan did not recognize by uniform, by gait or by the slight tilt of his chin.
Something felt wrong.
The man carried a folded parchment in one hand.
He passed behind Eric, bowing respectfully. “Your Highness.”
Eric turned and frowned slightly and confused. “Yes”
The guard moved closer than necessary.
Rylan sensed the danger before he understood it.
The guard pressed his thumb against the wax seal of a bottle and seemed to have sprayed something hidden inside it.
A soft puff of air escaped like a fragrance.
A sweet, deceptive scent was barely there, but potent enough to override reason.
Eric inhaled sharply.
Rylan stepped forward instinctively. “Your Highness…!”
But the guard’s next action froze him.
With practiced subtlety, he slipped something into Eric’s palm. It was a thin, sharp dagger that was easily concealed.
Then a voice came from no where but loud enough for Rylan to hear like breeze.
“Kill the king, Eric” The voice spoke.
Eric nodded. The scent twisted through Eric’s senses like invisible wires.
The potion weakened him, the perfume clouded his mind and the blade filled his hand.
A perfect storm.
The king who had been looking towards the palace gates, turned around and stepped backward. “Eric, drop the knife.”
The Kings goblet fell in fear. Eric tried to stop himself. Rylan could see it but his fingers trembled with effort. For the perfume held him like a puppet on silk strings.
Rylan moved closer, pretending to adjust his stance.
He whispered sharply, low enough for Eric alone:
“Drop it, Your Highness. Fight it.”
Eric looked directly at him, eyes clouded with hypnosis. His gaze jerked upward as the both struggled.
Rylan followed it instinctively.
There, at the west guard tower window, a man seemed to watch.
Rylan froze.
Because that man… was a guard on watch from the palace guards.
Eric suddenly stumbled forward, raising the knife toward the king.
King Jeremy stepped back in shock, very close to the railings he was locked into.
In the struggle, Rylan stepped back, preparing to slip away from the watchers eyes when Eric pushed him and a sharp sting tore across his arm.
Rylan gasped, gripping the wound.
Rylan lunged without thinking but ran away before he was seen.
Then it happened. The king lay breathless in his arms. Guards rushed forward.
His grip loosened.
The prince surged forward blindly as the dagger slipped from him and the king lay on his arms unable to say a word.
“Father, father, oh no, please wake up. ”Eric Cried.
Eric raised his head and slightly say Rylan as he ran. He called out for help.
Guards came and helped Prince Eric.
“A man ran that way!.”
The guards turned and followed the blood trail.
“FATHER, stay with me!” Eric cried as guards carried the king out.