Chapter 74 Subtle Movements
Solange hadn't slept.
While the castle drifted into an uneasy slumber, she walked through the oldest corridors, those that few still remembered existed. Torches cast long shadows on the stone walls, distorting coats of arms and symbols that had lost their meaning for almost everyone—except her.
She stopped before a narrow door, protected by ancient seals. She didn't need to touch it. The door opened upon recognizing her presence.
Inside, Steven was already waiting for her.
He stood as soon as she entered, tilting his head slightly. Not out of respect—out of caution.
"Kael is alive," he said bluntly. "And that complicates everything."
Solange calmly removed her cloak, folding it on the stone table. Her gestures were precise, controlled. Nothing about her betrayed haste.
"Alive isn't the same as whole," she replied. "Without memory, he's just a loose piece. He can be molded... or discredited."
Steven crossed his arms. "Maya won't accept this. And Conrad even less so."
Hearing her son's name, Solange hesitated a little longer before responding. She walked to the narrow window, observing the inner courtyard, empty at that hour.
"Conrad has always been predictable when it comes to her," she finally said. "And that's exactly what makes them vulnerable."
Steven frowned. "Are you suggesting Kael invented the attack?"
"I'm suggesting the council needs to believe this." Solange turned, her gaze steady. "Fear spreads too quickly when there's no official version."
She approached the table and placed her fingers on an old map of the kingdom. Marked points indicated old patrol routes—some abandoned, others conveniently forgotten.
"The erasers want instability," she continued. "And Maya, with the active Link, is the perfect catalyst. The more chaotic she seems, the easier it will be to isolate her."
"And what if Kael remembers?" Steven asked.
Solange smiled slightly. It wasn't a gentle smile.
"Then we'll have to act sooner."
The silence that followed was thick. Steven took a deep breath. "Some alphas are still hesitant. Not all will accept discrediting Kael."
"That's why we need time," she replied. "And doubts."
She walked to a shelf and retrieved a sealed scroll. The symbol engraved there was ancient—predating the current council.
"We'll convene a new session," she said, handing the scroll to Steven. "Not to judge. To 'investigate.' Words matter."
Steven nodded slowly.
"And Conrad?" he asked.
Solange held his gaze. For the first time, something almost human crossed her expression.
"Conrad will need to choose," she said. "Like every true king chooses. Between what he loves... and what keeps the kingdom standing."
Outside, the castle's oldest bell rang once, without anyone having touched it.
Solange closed her eyes for a brief moment.
She felt it.
The Link was no longer merely awake.
It was alert.
And that meant the political game she knew was changing—too fast for those who still believed they controlled the rules.
When she opened her eyes, her decision was already made.
If the kingdom was going to crumble, it wouldn't be for lack of warning.
It would be for having taken too long to act.
Conrad hadn't slept either.
His body was exhausted, but his mind refused to be silent. He remained seated on the edge of the bed, watching Maya sleep restlessly, as if even her dreams were at war. The mark on her chest pulsed from time to time, and Conrad felt it like an echo within him.
Something was wrong.
Not just because of the attack on Kael. Not just because of the council meeting. But because of how quickly everything had happened.
He stood up silently and walked to the window. The courtyard was empty, but Conrad knew the castle never truly slept. Especially when his mother was on the move.
Solange didn't act impulsively. She never had. Every decision came wrapped in logic, in carefully chosen words, in promises of stability. And that was exactly what terrified him.
She wouldn't attack Maya head-on.
She would wear her down.
"Suspend the banishment," he murmured to himself. "Investigation. Doubt." Conrad clenched his fists.
It was the kind of strategy Solange mastered like no other. Create uncertainty. Plant suspicions. Make the kingdom, little by little, begin to see Maya not as queen, but as a risk.
And Kael...
Conrad closed his eyes for a moment.
Kael had always been too cautious to "invent" anything. If he had been attacked, it was because he had discovered something someone wanted to keep buried. And his mother knew it. Worse: she was using his memory loss as an opportunity.
"You're playing with fire," he whispered, even knowing she couldn't hear him.
He looked back at Maya. She stirred slightly, as if she felt his tension even in her sleep. Conrad approached and carefully adjusted the blanket over her shoulders.
"I promised," he said softly. "And I won't break that."
He could already foresee Solange's next steps. Another meeting. Soft words. Hand-picked Alphas. And, at the center of it all, a question she would leave hanging in the air: What if Maya is the problem?
Conrad straightened his shoulders.
If his mother wanted to turn the council into a silent battlefield, then he would do what he had always avoided.
He would stop being just her son.
And he would start acting like a king.
Conrad remained there for a few more moments, absorbing the weight of the decision forming in his chest. He had known that castle since childhood, every corridor, every secret door, every room where alliances were forged in whispers. He knew exactly where his mother usually moved when she wanted to influence without being seen.
Solange didn't need to raise her voice to command. Just being present was enough.
And that was what worried him most.
She must have already started side conversations. Insecure Alphas. Council members who feared the Rift more than injustice. People who preferred a comfortable lie to a truth that demanded action. Conrad could almost hear the arguments being constructed: caution, tradition, protection of the kingdom.
Protection for whom?
He looked at Maya again. That woman, carrying the weight of a forgotten race, of a history forcibly erased, was being pushed into the center of a political war she hadn't asked to fight. And yet, she remained standing.
This aroused fear.
Conrad took a deep breath. He knew that, from that moment on, his every step would be observed. Every decision, questioned. His loyalty would be tested not by the kingdom, but by his own mother.
And if the day came when he had to choose between the blood that begot him and the future he had sworn to protect... he already knew the answer.
In the distance, the castle creaked, as if responding to his determination.
The game had begun.
And Solange, though experienced, may have forgotten one dangerous thing:
Conrad was no longer the prince she had molded.
He was a king willing to confront his own household to save what could still be preserved.