London slept beneath a fog that hid more than just the streets. Beneath its quiet surface, secrets moved like rats in the dark — and Edward was done being hunted by shadows.
For three nights, he had followed his uncle's men through alleys and corridors, watching letters exchanged, messages burned, and names whispered he couldn't yet prove. The Duke's influence stretched deeper than the war ever had.
Now, in the cold light of morning, Edward strode into the royal council chamber unannounced.
The Duke of Kent stood by the window, his silver hair catching the dawn like steel. "Nephew," he said calmly. "You should rest. You look haunted."
"I am," Edward replied. "By the truth."
He dropped a file onto the polished table. Inside — coded documents, the remnants of intercepted reports, and a recovered letter fragment sealed in wax — Evelyn's seal.
The Duke didn't flinch, but his gaze sharpened. "You've been busy."
"I want to know why her message never reached me," Edward said, his voice low but steady. "And why the courier was found dead."
The Duke's smile was faint, patronizing. "War makes enemies of everyone. Perhaps she trusted the wrong man."
"Perhaps," Edward said, stepping closer, "it was you she trusted by mistake."
The air thickened. For the first time, Edward saw it — the faint tremor in the Duke's hand, the mask beginning to slip.
"You have no proof," the Duke said softly.
"Not yet," Edward answered. "But I will."
He turned to leave, but the Duke's words halted him mid-step.
"She's alive, you know."
Edward froze.
"I had my men search after the wreck," the Duke continued. "We found traces. A survivor's trail near Calais. She's clever, that girl — much like her father." He paused, then added, "And you know how that ended."
Edward spun, fury breaking through the royal restraint that had caged him for years. "If you harm her—"
The Duke raised a finger. "Careful, Edward. The crown protects me. You, on the other hand, are a prince out of favor, clinging to ghosts and guilt. If you move against me, I'll make her disappearance permanent."
Edward's fists clenched — but he said nothing. The silence between them roared louder than any threat.
When he finally spoke, his voice was calm again. "You've made your move, Uncle. Now it's mine."
He turned and left the chamber.
The Duke watched him go, a slow smile curving his lips. "And so the game begins."