Kaelen's POV.
Lord Aris lay on the cold marble, he was not dead yet, but the black foam at his mouth said he was close. I knelt over him, ignoring the black stains seeping into my leather trousers.
"Aris," I said, slapping his cheek hard. "Stay with me. Who is on the council?"
Fenrir stood behind me, his sword unsheathed, the tip scraping the floor.
"He's gone, Linus. The poison is in his heart."
"He's still breathing," I snapped. I grabbed Aris by the collar and hauled his head up.
"The names, Aris. Hecate is gone, but who did she leave behind? Who is holding the strings?"
Aris coughed, spraying black blood onto my chest. "The... Shadow Council. Twelve. Always twelve."
"Give me names," I demanded.
"The Minister of Trade... the Master of Coin... even the High Priest," Aris wheezed. His eyes were rolling back. "She has them. Debt. She bought their gambling debts. Blackmail... She knows about the General's bastards. And blood. She has their children, Linus. In the North. Held in the ice fortresses."
"Fenrir," I said, looking back over my shoulder. "Your throne is rotting from the inside. Your entire bureaucracy belongs to your mother."
Fenrir's stepped forward, his eyes landing on a terrified scribe cowering near the side door. "You! Scribe! Was the Master of Coin at the meeting last night?"
The scribe shook his head, trembling. "I... I cannot say, Your Majesty."
Fenrir screamed, lunging forward. He grabbed the scribe by the throat and slammed him against the marble pillar, the edge of his sword pressing into the man's neck. "Speak, or I'll open your throat right here!"
"Fenrir, stop!" I stood up, crossing the distance in three strides. I grabbed Fenrir's sword arm, pulling back with all my weight.
"He knows!" Fenrir hissed, his muscles bulging. "They all know! My own ministers are selling the Empire for scraps!"
"Killing a scribe won't get you the ledgers," I said, my voice steady. "You kill him, and the rest of the council goes underground. We need the paper trail. We need to know which debts she's holding so we can cancel them."
Fenrir looked at the scribe, then at me. The madness in his eyes receded and he let the man go. The scribe collapsed, gasping for air.
"I've spent five years on the battlefield," Fenrir said, his voice dropping to a low, jagged rasp. "I thought as long as I won the wars, the Empire was safe. I didn't realize she was selling the bricks while I was out defending the walls."
"She's a politician, Fenrir. You're a soldier. You've been playing a game with different rules," I said. I looked down at Aris. The man had finally gone still. "He's dead. But he gave us enough. We start with the Master of Coin."
Fenrir turned away from the body, walking toward the high throne. He leaned against it, looking out at the empty hall. "I can't do this alone, Linus. I can kill an army, but I can't track debts and blackmail and secret councils."
"Then don't," I said.
"I need you," he said, looking at me. "I don't just need a consort. I need a King. I need someone who knows how to burn a rot out without destroying the house."
"I told you at the border," I said, walking up the dais to stand beside him. "I didn't come here to be a decoration."
"You're far more dangerous than a decoration," Fenrir said. He reached out, his hand lingering near the mark he had left on my wrist. "The court is terrified of you. Good. Let them be. I'll provide be the body, you'll be the brain."
"Agreed," I said. "But first, we secure the capital. I want the Master of Coin brought to the dungeons. I want his ledgers seized. And I want—"
A messenger interrupted, sprinting down the hall. He wasn't an Imperial messenger.
He wore the blue and silver tabard of my home.
The Blue Moon Kingdom.
The messenger stopped at the base of the stairs and knelt.
He looked at me. "Prince Linus. A message from your father, the King."
He handed me a small, wax-sealed cylinder. Inside was a scrap of silk, the writing done in the secret code of the Blue Moon royals, a code only the princes and the King knew.
I read the lines twice.
The puppet has outgrown his strings.
Return to the Blue Moon borders immediately to fulfill your true oath. If you do not cross the bridge in three days, we will burn the border cities of the Iron Fang. We will start with Oakhaven. Come home, or watch the Empire bleed from the south.
"What is it?" Fenrir asked, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword.
"It's a threat," I said. "My father. He didn't send me here for peace. He sent me as a sleeper agent. And now that I've aligned with you, he's threatening to burn your cities to force me back."
"He wants to start a war over a consort?" Fenrir asked.
"He doesn't want a consort. He wants his weapon back," I said. "He knows I'm not the boy he sold. He realized the 'rabbit' has teeth, and he's afraid I'll use them on him instead of you."
Fenrir stepped closer, "He won't touch you. I'll send three legions to the border tonight."
"No," I said. "That's what he wants. He wants you to split your forces. If you send the legions south, Hecate's fleet will have a clear run at the Northern ports. He's working with her, Fenrir. They've coordinated this."
"So what do we do?" Fenrir asked.
"We don't go south," I said. I looked at the messenger. "Go back to the Blue Moon. Tell the King that the Prince he knew is dead. Tell him I've found a better throne."
"He will burn the cities, Highness," the messenger whispered.
"Let him try," I said. I turned to Fenrir. "We don't send the legions, we send a message. We execute the Master of Coin and send his head to the Blue Moon border. Let my father know that the Iron Fang doesn't negotiate with arsonists."
Fenrir stared at me, a slow, dark smile spreading across his face. "You really are a monster, aren't you?"
"I'm a different breed of an Omega," I said. "I don't have room for mercy. Do you want to save your Empire, or do you want to be 'good'?"
Fenrir grabbed my waist, pulling me hard against his chest. "I stopped wanting to be 'good' the moment I met you."
"Then let's get to work," I said. "We have a council to execute."
"Wait," Fenrir said, his voice dropping. "If you don't go back... your father will kill your people. Your brothers. Your friends."
"I don't have brothers," I said, thinking of Valerius. "I have rivals. And as for my people... they'll be much safer once I've conquered the man who is willing to burn them for leverage."