In Duke Derek Sneider's private lounge, torchlight fell over tense faces. The air was thick—heavy with smoke and distrust.
Count Tomas Denisse, Count Noah Armett, Count Brandi Brown, and Mateo Carruso stood gathered before Derek, who watched them with a deep frown.
"So, Tomas… you failed?" Derek said, a smirk laced with contempt curling on his lips.
Tomas leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.
"It was a setback. The plan still stands."
"A setback?" Derek's voice snapped upward. "You tried to kill the prince in the middle of a royal tournament—and now you decide not to send more men?"
Brandi spoke carefully.
"We need more support. One attempt isn't enough."
Tomas shook his head slowly.
"And risk everything? It was already nearly impossible to slip forty men in without raising suspicion. A second attempt would've been the same as opening the gates for the enemy."
Mateo clenched his jaw.
"If you'd succeeded, the prince would already be dead."
Noah spoke then, quieter—colder.
"And if we fail again, the Douglases won't leave a single stone unturned until they find who's responsible. This isn't just an assassination… it's exposure."
The silence that followed wasn't hesitation.
It was conflict.
Because not everyone in that room wanted the same outcome.
Derek looked at them with open disdain.
"You speak as if this is some kind of numbers game."
Tomas met his gaze without flinching.
"It's not. It's survival."
Something shifted.
Brandi lowered her eyes slightly.
"The Empire doesn't need much more to surpass us… just time. Some of us are only trying to prevent this kingdom from being crushed before we can act."
Mateo nodded, though anger still burned beneath the surface.
"If the Empire goes all-in… there won't be anything left. No nobility. No titles."
Noah said nothing further—but his expression spoke volumes.
This wasn't just ambition.
It was fear.
And different ways of answering that fear.
Tomas rose slowly to his feet.
"Listen carefully. The one who wins isn't the strongest—it's the one who isn't seen until the end. One mistake… and it's not just us who fall. The entire kingdom collapses into chaos."
Meanwhile, in another part of the palace—far from the noise of the banquet—the king received a guest in a private chamber.
Duke Lawrence Douglas.
The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable.
But it carried weight.
"It's been a while," King Felipe said. "How are things?"
"Under control, Your Majesty," Lawrence replied.
No embellishment.
No hesitation.
Felipe exhaled.
"The Empire is moving. And by the way… thank Lusian for me. He saved my son's life."
Lawrence's gaze lifted slightly—surprised.
"He didn't report that to me."
"He rarely does," the king said with a faint smile. "But I intend to reward him."
Lawrence nodded.
"I'll pass it along."
A brief pause followed.
Then the king leaned forward slightly.
"As for the Empire… investigate everything. If there are infiltrators, someone within the nobility is helping them."
"We'll handle it."
"And if necessary…"
Felipe's voice hardened.
"Eliminate them."
The answer came without pause.
"It will be done."
To many, the Douglases were nothing more than a feared noble house.
Killers with titles.
But in truth, they were something else entirely.
The last wall standing before corruption spread unchecked.
They didn't distinguish between lesser nobles—or even the throne itself.
If something threatened the kingdom from within…
they cut it out.
No warning.
No public trial.
That was why they were hated.
And why they were necessary.
Even the king—despite not always agreeing with their methods—knew that without them, the system would have collapsed long ago.
The banquet continued as if nothing had happened.
Glasses raised. Laughter. Soft music drifting through the hall.
King Felipe returned to his throne, calling forward the representatives of each house to award the tournament prizes.
Congratulations. Bows. Carefully measured smiles.
And as the ceremony unfolded, no one in that room seemed to notice that beyond the glow of the hall…
the kingdom wasn't held together by laws or titles—
but by decisions no one dared to make in the open.