LUCIAN
The hour was late, and the royal council chamber was empty save for four men.
Lucian stood beside the long table of polished oak, the glow of a single candelabrum casting gold over scattered documents. His coat was unbuttoned, his gloves thrown aside, his face drawn from sleeplessness. Across from him sat Crown Prince Edmund, his expression clouded with anger and disbelief. Lord Leopold Whitcombe stood near the hearth, arms folded, his usually steady demeanor hardened by fury.
At the edge of the room, Lucian's shadows waited silently in the half-light.
The palace was quiet beyond the doors. The council had long retired, the courtiers dreaming of politics and favor, unaware that in this small circle of candlelight, their world was about to shift.
Lucian lifted a folded parchment and set it before the Crown Prince. "This is the first letter. It bears Count Marlowe's personal seal, though the hand that carried it never reached its intended destination."
The Crown Prince took it reluctantly. His fingers trembled slightly as he unfolded it and began to read.
Grand Duke Montclair,
The plan proceeds well. The Everleigh accounts have been secured and the auditors have accepted the revised ledgers without question. By the time the council convenes, their ruin will be complete. You must remain silent until the decree is signed. The Prince believes this necessary for the stability of the Crown, and he will not question the method so long as the outcome favors him. Once the dust settles, my daughter will assume her rightful place beside Ravenscroft, and order will be restored.
Marlowe
The Crown Prince's hand stilled halfway through the letter. His voice, when he spoke, was low and sharp. "He wrote that I would approve of it."
Lucian nodded. "He used your name to justify treason. To make it seem as if you endorsed the destruction of an innocent family."
The Crown Prince's jaw tightened. "And Alistair received this?"
Leopold stepped forward. "There is more, Your Highness. A second letter, sent from Montclair's estate to Marlowe's manor three days after the first."
Lucian reached for another parchment. The edges were charred from where it had been partially burned before his shadows recovered it from a messenger's satchel. He handed it to the Prince.
Count Marlowe,
You ask me to trust your ambition, yet you do not understand the cost. The court sees the Everleighs as traitors now. You have won your point. Do not push further. If you insist on dragging the Crown Prince's name into your deceit, you will damn us all.
Montclair
The Crown Prince read the words twice, his anger visible in the tightening of his hand. "Montclair knew. He allowed this. He played both sides."
Lucian's voice was quiet but firm. "He knew, but he was not the architect. Marlowe used his fall from favor to control him. Montclair thought he was acting out of vengeance, but he was being manipulated to serve another's design."
The Crown Prince tossed the parchment onto the table. "That fool. That vain, wounded fool. He could have come to me. He could have spoken the truth."
Leopold's voice was cool and measured. "He thought you would not listen, Highness. You had already distanced yourself from him."
The Crown Prince turned sharply. "And for good reason. He lied to the council. He sowed chaos to protect himself. I cannot forgive that."
Lucian watched him carefully. "Your Highness, forgiveness is not what we seek tonight. What matters is justice. If we present this evidence tomorrow, the King will have no choice but to see that the Everleighs were framed. Their name will be restored, and the court will know who the true conspirators were."
The Crown Prince leaned back in his chair, the candlelight catching the hard line of his jaw. "If this reaches my father in the wrong way, he will see it as an attack on the entire council. He will think I have lost control."
"Then we must show him that you are the one restoring it," Lucian said.
Leopold nodded. "The truth will not weaken you, Highness. It will prove that your leadership is not bound by deceit. The court respects strength, not silence."
For a long moment, the Crown Prince said nothing. The fire crackled softly in the hearth.
Finally, Edmund turned his gaze to Lucian. "Tell me everything. From the beginning."
Lucian exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "The first clue came from the southern docks. My men found duplicate trade ledgers bearing the Everleigh crest, dated months before the supposed transactions took place. The handwriting matched the clerk who serves Count Marlowe's port office. From there, we traced payments made to the auditors who led the investigation against the Everleigh estate. All were paid through accounts connected to Marlowe's merchant line."
He paused, letting the information sink in. "Montclair's correspondence with Marlowe confirms what we suspected. He was drawn into the plot to give it legitimacy, to make it seem as though both factions supported the charge. In truth, it was all a fabrication. Marlowe wanted to remove the Everleighs because they stood between his family and a greater prize."
The Crown Prince's eyes narrowed. "And Alistair allowed himself to be used."
Lucian's voice softened. "He did. Out of bitterness, perhaps. Out of pride. But he is not beyond redemption if he helps us now. I believe he regrets what he has done, though it is too late to undo it."
Leopold moved closer to the table, resting both hands on its edge. "The question now is what we do with this."
Lucian met the Crown Prince's eyes. "We bring it before the King and the council at first light. We expose it fully. There can be no quiet correction, no private retraction. If we do this in secret, the same rot will return. The court must see it fall in daylight."
The Prince studied him, his face unreadable. "You speak as if truth were enough to cleanse the court."
"Truth is the only thing that ever does," Lucian said.
The Crown Prince stood abruptly, pacing toward the window. The city below was silent, its streets silver under the moonlight. "My father despises scandal. He will see this as a stain on the Crown. He may even try to bury it."
Leopold said quietly, "Then we cannot let him."
The Crown Prince turned sharply. "You both speak as if it were so simple. Do you have any idea what it means for the Crown to admit it was deceived? It would shake every alliance we have left."
Lucian's voice rose, steady but filled with conviction. "It will get worse if we continue to let lies guide us. The Everleighs are loyal, honest people. They are victims of ambition. If the King refuses to see that, then the court will devour itself."
Silence stretched between them.
At last, the Crown Prince spoke, his tone softer. "You risk much for this family."
Lucian met his gaze. "I risk what must be risked. I owe them that. I owe her that."
The Crown Prince's expression flickered, something like understanding passing behind his eyes. "Evelina," he said quietly.
Lucian did not deny it. "She has suffered more than any of us. Her father's name dragged through dirt, her house under guard, her every move questioned. She never wavered. If the court cannot honor that kind of courage, then it deserves its ruin."
The Crown Prince looked back at the letter on the table. "Then we show my father everything. We let him see what Marlowe and Montclair have done."
Lucian's shadow stepped forward from the edge of the light, bowing his head. "My lord, the rest of the evidence is ready. Witnesses from the docks and the treasury will stand by their testimony. The records are secured in Lord Whitcombe's vault until the council convenes."
Lucian nodded. "Good. No word of this leaves this room until morning."
Leopold looked between them. "Once the council sees this, they will have no choice but to clear the Everleighs. But they will not forgive easily. Marlowe's allies will fight to bury what we reveal."
Lucian's voice was calm. "Then let them fight. We will fight harder."
The Crown Prince walked back to the table and gathered the two letters. The candlelight glinted off the wax seals. "Tomorrow," he said, "we will go before my father. You will speak first, Ravenscroft. Then Lord Whitcombe. I will follow."
Lucian inclined his head. "Yes, Your Highness."
The Crown Prince's voice was low, almost weary. "If this fails, it will be the end of us all."
Lucian looked up at him. "Then we will not fail."
The Crown Prince studied him for a long moment, then gave a single, sharp nod. "Very well. Tomorrow, the truth will be spoken."
Leopold extinguished the last candle, leaving only the light of the fire. "Then may dawn find us still standing."
As they left the chamber, Lucian paused by the door. He looked once more at the letters on the table, the ink gleaming faintly in the firelight.
They were small things, a few sheets of paper, a handful of stolen words yet within them lay the weight of lives, reputations, and futures.
He thought of Evelina, waiting somewhere beyond the palace walls, unaware that the night itself was turning in her favor.
For the first time in weeks, he felt something close to hope.
Tomorrow, the lies will burn.
And truth, long buried, would finally rise.