The Wicked House of Caroline

“Don’t watch.” Lucian prepared to cover her eyes as Lord Douglas unsheathed his sword. He and Laz stood on either side of her, with Lucian’s hand rising.

“No. I need to see this.” Beks stopped his hand before he reached her head and gently pushed it down. There was some hesitation on his and Laz’s faces as they exchanged looks.

“What is the name of the guilty party?” Though it was a question, Laurence was actually asking for confirmation.

Beks kept her eyes on the fallen old man, comparing him as he was now, on his knees with his oily, matted hair and stained clothes to the memory she last had of him. It was somewhat satisfying to see that patronizing look on his face and the dismissive light in his eyes replaced with panic.

“Petus of Hessing, Third Consort to the late Queen Leticia.” Lord Douglas spoke his name, as if to let everyone know who the traitor was.

Beks closed her eyes. The fighting that had preceded them was far enough away, and now mostly consisting of their people keeping the Royal Guards surrounded. They could do nothing to save the man on his knees, with his head bowed, nor did they shout in protest.

Only one person’s voice rang out across the moat, frantic, if not terrified.

His screaming for them to stop grew more and more hoarse, becoming almost breathless begging to spare his father.

If Beks heard it, then Laurence, Laz, Lucian, and the several people around them heard it.

But all of them ignored Luther’s cries.

Lord Douglas brought down his sword, which she remembered seeing him sharpen the day before. Laurence could not get his hands dirty to perform the execution himself, nor did he have the strength and precision to. Laz and Lucian were technically considered family because of their mother, so it was inappropriate for one of them to perform the execution.

Her parents were surprisingly awkward about it. It wasn’t as if either of them hadn’t killed someone before, which is why Beks was confused. Though now a duke and duchess, they were once a soldier and a pirate. All her mother had told her was that they made a vow to the late Queen, which Laurence respected.

Lord Douglas volunteered as it was within his ability to not only perform a beheading, but to enforce Kadmus laws as the heir to a march. Beks also suspected there was a bit of revenge, as the Third Consort had a hand in having his sister branded as a traitor.

Beks held her breath as the sword was gripped with two hands and raised. Luther’s screaming was drowned out. For a moment, she could only hear her heartbeat.

The smell of iron was so strong, she could almost taste it in her mouth. The Third Consort’s body tumbled forward, the base of his neck, still gushing blood hitting the hard packed dirt before tilting to the right. The two Wild Dogs who had been holding his arms back released him and tried to get as far away from the blood as possible, but dark red still splattered against their clothes.

The blood covered head, with blood-soaked, chopped blond hair hit the ground like a heavy, solid ball and rolled to the side. The Third Consort’s open eyes and open mouth were turned to look across the moat, at the Gilded Palace.

If Beks were being honest, it happened far faster and much smoother than she initially expected. She thought he’d struggle or scream, possibly profess his innocence, but the Wild Dogs had kept a firm grip on him. Lord Douglas’ sword was precise and swift, and the gag didn’t come off until the last moment.

The Third Consort likely didn’t have a chance to breathe, let alone talk, before his head was removed from his body.

She narrowed her eyes.

While plotting against Laurence while he was king was treason and, alone, enough to sentence the man to death, the Third Consort had a hand in sending paladins to assassinate her and her family.

In order to play the same trick and indispose the majority of the royal guards with temporary stomach issues to prevent them from joining the conflict, she needed to know how exactly it was done. Unlike her, the Third Consort didn’t use Chamberlain Wilton plant a cheese that when cooked, caused stomach irritation which would last two days at most.

The Third Consort had supplied tainted vegetables through the official channels, signing off on them himself. Of course, he couldn’t hire Temple paladins. This meant that he had arranged it with the new oracle.

It was unfortunate that the new oracle had not been captured while fleeing, meaning she’d left well before Lady Seneca’s people were in place and the orders to the city gates were open, or she was still in the Gilded Palace. In both cases, they’d be a little more reluctant to kill her, as she was still a highly valued member of the Temple.

At least, Laurence would be reluctant to impose such a severe punishment because of that. None-the-less, this meant that the Third Consort was involved and helped plot against the Carolines. This was an affront to them and even if Laurence and Kadmus could not be too harsh, as after all the assassination failed, the Carolines would not let it pass so easily.

To the Carolines, it was only over when they said it was over.

Even with the Third Consort’s blood on the ground, it wasn’t over.

“What is he doing?” Laz’s frustrated and somewhat annoyed voice said as he took a step away from Beks. His head was tilted up, looking across the moat, at the Gilded Palace.

Beks followed is gaze and looked up. Her lips pursed into a frown.

Even from a short distance, she could tell that Luther was not well. He seemed as white as a sheet, and unsteady on his face.

“Where is Chamberlain Wilton?” Laurence frowned and squinted. “He’s supposed to watch Luther.”

Luther’s been up there on his own since we got here,” Lucian replied. Beks frowned, as well.

“The door to all the ramparts on the towers can be locked from both the inside and the outside,” she said. “Luther may have locked Chamberlain Wilton out.”

Laz scowled. “Then we should get to him before he does something stu-”

“Luther!” Laurence had been keeping his eyes on the west tower. Beks snapped her head towards the king and then back to the tower he was staring at. Laurence had taken a few steps forward, his face draining of color.

“Dammit!” Laz swore and began running down the moat’s embankment.

Beks’ eyes went wide. Laz would not reach Luther in time. Lucian stepped forward, raising his hand to cover Beks’ eyes so she wouldn’t witness yet another violent death.

She saw him coming from the corner of her eye and sidestepped him.

“That idiot!” Her body moved on its own and she darted forward, planted her feet on the ground, and then moved her arms. She didn’t notice the amount of biha that was collected, nor did she control the force.

Her hair and clothes fluttered forward as a powerful gust of wind swept past her.

Luther’s body didn’t struggle as he fell. It was as if he’d simply tipped over like an inanimate object pushed off a table by a cat. No failing arms. No kicking legs.

Not even a single cry.

She vaguely heard someone say her name as the force of her wind uprooted plants on their way across the moat.

Just as Luther’s body was about to slam into the gravel ground, the wind swept him up from underneath. His fall was not only broken, but he was pushed back up.

“Beks!” Laurence gasped.

It was unfortunate that though limitless and powerful, Beks could not control her wind biha. Afraid that she’d fling him into the sky, she tried to withdraw some biha and weaken the wind. Luther began to plummet once more.

Lucian took in a sharp gasp. “Watch out!” He darted down the moat, following Laz who was already climbing up the other side of the moat, and rushed towards the west tower.

Beks grimaced and pushed her arms out, sending another gust of wind forward. Luther stopped falling, but didn’t go up either.

Lord Douglas let out a hiss as Luther’s body was slammed and bounced once against the stone side of the west tower. Luther was a little less than a story up, and just two arm’s length from the wall, but the force was strong. Beks’ last frantic gust to keep him from falling to his death instead threw him, face first, against the tower wall.

Beks sucked in a sharp breath and winced. Once more, she tried to pull back her biha.

And once more, Luther’s body, with a bleeding nose, dropped to the ground.

Rather than risk slamming him into the side of the tower once more, Beks pasted her arms against her body and restrained herself. Luther hit the ground with a dull thud.

He landed on his backside, one arm over his stomach while the other was in an awkward position on his left. Blood from what was likely a broken nose was streaming down his face, and he wasn’t moving.

The entire courtyard seemed to become silent in an instant as Beks stood in place, her eyes wide and her mouth partially open. She didn’t mean to push him into a wall.

“Brother,” Beks’ voice shook a bit. “I...I was trying to break his fall.”

Laurence closed his eyes and released a low breath beside her. He gave her a small nod. “I know, Beks.”

“I...I didn’t think...perhaps my aim was wrong?” She didn’t notice that numerous reluctant eyes were on her.

“Rebecca,” her mother’s smooth, but stern voice spoke up behind her. “After this, you are to practice controlling your biha exertion and do precision exercises.”

Beks swallowed hard. “Yes, Mommy.”

Across the moat, Laz had reached Luther and skidded to his knees beside him. He quickly reached down to check for his vitals. His shoulders fell and he seemed to let out a heavy sigh. “He’s alive!”

Laurence let out a breath of relief as well.

“Check to see if he has any injuries,” Lucian said as he knelt down on Luther’s other side.

Laz cringed. “Well, his nose-”

“Aside from his nose,” Lucian replied with a dull look. He began to move his hands over Luther’s shoulders and arm, searching for anything possibly broken. He grimaced. “Left clavicle.”

“Right side seems fine...he landed on his left side. Check his ribs.”

As the twins examined Luther, Laurence looked at Beks. “We’ll move him back to his villa and have the royal doctors look at them.”

“Your Majesty!” Chamberlain Wilton rushed out of the nearest side entrance, his face pale and his arms shaking. He was still gripping a folded white sheet under his arms. “His Highness jumped-”

“It’s fine, Chamberlain,” Laz called out, drawing his attention to where Luther was laying on the ground. “Beks broke his fall. He’s alive.”

Chamberlain Wilton seemed to want to nod, but his eyes fell on the blood all over Luther’s face. He reached out his hand against the Gilded Palace wall to steady himself. “Where is all the blood coming from?”

“Ah...he....” Lucian glanced across the moat at Beks.

“It wasn’t a clean drop and he seemed to have hit the wall on the way down,” Laz replied.

Chamberlain Wilton looked at Luther with dismay. “Why did he jump?”

“I don’t think he meant to,” Lucian told him. He looked towards the old man. “We beheaded the Third Consort.”

Chamberlain Wilton looked back across the moat, to where Laurence and Beks were standing. Beks saw him looking at the headless body of the Third Consort as the two Wild Dogs who helped restrain him gathered the head and put it into a burlap sack. Almost immediately, the color of the sack darkened as blood seeped into the fabric.

There was no surprise on Chamberlain Wilton’s face. From his visit days earlier, he’d known that the Third Consort had been captured and was going to be executed. Beks remembered how the Chamberlain’s face had darkened, but his eyes reddened.

She’d worried that he wanted them to spare the Third Consort or was about to plead mercy on his behalf, but the Chamberlain’s words refuted her worry.

“Good,” he had said. He had let out a small, bitter huff. “It is about time.” He had looked at Laurence and then at the twins with wet eyes. “This will avenge your fathers.”

That night, Beks had contacted Mr. Kesse to look up all the information he could gather on the deaths of the King Consort and Uncle Timur to see if she could confirm that the Third Consort had a hand in their deaths.

Mr. Kesse’s usually eager look had turned sad. He had told her it wouldn’t take long at all, because the late Queen had asked them to suppress the information and make sure there was no proof.

Hearing his words had broken Beks’ heart. She had a love-hate relationship with her foster mother, and from the start, she knew the late Queen’s hands were unclean, but to find out that she purposely covered up the Third Consort’s connections to the deaths of the first two consorts made her want to rush to the royal catacomb and ask the late Queen’s body if she was crazy.

Beks had spent the last two days and nights before they marched to the city suppressing her anger and frustration.

She thought that watching the Third Consort be beheaded would give her a feeling of vindication, but a small part of her was still bitter that he had managed to enjoy life for so long.

“Your Majesty, the royal guards have surrendered.” The Duke of Caroline was still on a horse when he reached them. “I am having Gerard lead the Wild Dogs to the barracks to secure them.”

Beks looked back at Laurence. “All the royal doctors should be at the barracks right now dealing with the epidemic. You will need to order some to check on Luther.”

Laurence nodded. “Chamberlain Wilton!”

The man was making his way down the embankment across the moat on his way to them. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Go to the barracks and summon the head doctor and a second doctor to Luther’s villa. Have them prepare to see my brother. I will have my men carry him in,” Laurence told him.

Chamberlain Wilton stood in the middle of the dry moat and bowed his head. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Beks’ father rode his horse down into the moat with ease and helped the Chamberlain on to the saddle behind him, before leading the horse down the moat, in the direction of the barracks.

Laurence looked back his three younger brothers. Laz was giving instruction on preparing the white sheet that Chamberlain Wilton had been carrying to be used to carry Luther back into the Gilded Palace.

“We should notify the palace staff to stand down and await further instruction,” the Duchess of Caroline said. “While they are non-combatants, we must ensure that they are loyal to His Majesty first.”

Beks nodded and looked across the moat, towards the entrance. Standing by the steps, looking towards the bottom of the west tower and the small group of men huddled around the base, was Duke Seneca.

Lady Helen had crossed the bridge and Beks could hear her exclaiming with anger that her father had grown so thin.

Beks took a deep breath. “Give me the horse,” she said.

One of the Wild Dogs rushed to hand her the reins. Her mother looked over at her. “Now where are you going?”

“We need to re-establish order and stabilize the return of King Laurence,” Beks said as she mounted the saddle. She gave her mother and Laurence a small nod of her head. “The princes and soldiers did their job. Now, it is time for me to do mine.”

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Despite wanting to return to the comfort of her Old Tower, Laurence forced Beks to take one of the empty villas. Her parents were to stay at the Old Tower while she remained in the Gilded Palace so that she could be closer for meetings, have discussions at any given time, and function as the head of the royal household until Lady Eleanor arrived.

All their soldiers and warriors needed to be arranged. Their camps outside the city walls were consolidated by specific military unit, and food, water, and fodder needed to be provided to all of them daily. Considering the amount of resources required, money was also needed.

Beks spent several hours each day speaking to an urapearl with Mr. Kesse and the Grand Duke of Aceria to arrange for resources to be purchased, shipped, and distributed.

Laz was assigned to deal with the royal guards and was heavily assisted by her father. The royal guards were under the direct order of the king, but with the king having changed, they needed to restate their loyalty to King Laurence and then be observed.

For the most part, the fact that Luther had taken power because Laurence was ill and then considered dead, it wasn’t completely upsetting to the royal guard that Laurence had returned. The popular belief was that it was right to remain loyal to Laurence and that had he remained on the throne, they would have continued to follow his orders.

Lucian and Deo reorganized the city wall. The original city guards had been displaced in order for their people to take their places and let their army waltz into the city unobstructed. As much as Lucian and Deo’s teams tried to take over without much struggle, there were inevitably a few injured city guards who were caught in small scuffles.

They were temporarily held in the private guard apartments that were built against the city walls. Food and drink were provided, though only the interior apartments with no windows to the city were ushered to prevent city guards from being heard.

The first thing Laurence did when he entered the Gilded Palace was to return to his office and used Beks’ urapearl to call Lady Eleanor and update her.

Next, Laurence began writing royal memorandums and orders. He sent out official notices to local governing bodies that he had returned and that his brother had ‘stepped down peacefully’.

Deo had snorted and said “yes, he certainly stepped down...an entire tower.”

Despite himself, Laz had nearly choked on his laughter.

The entire retaking of Kadmus had been smooth with a few minor skirmishes mainly because citizens were confused and caused conflict as a result. The worst of the fight had been with the royal guards on the royal grounds, and even then, there were no fatalities, just some injuries, the most serious of which was a broken leg and a handful of men who needed to be stitched up.

Beks focused another part of her energy on the palace staff. Until they and the royal guards were cleared after observation, Laz had assigned Wild Dogs to act in place of the royal guards. Palace staff was carefully monitored, though most were familiar faces and with Chamberlain Wilton, keeping them inline and loyal to Laurence wasn’t as time consuming as Beks feared.

But she still had her fill of paperwork.

Paperwork that facilitated the payment of food and basic other necessities for the Gilded Palace. Paperwork authorizing payment for the employees both inside the house and on the grounds.

Then, there was the rage-inducing task of reviewing all the court and governance records taken in the last year, since Luther took power.

It was a slow, laborious, and angering process. Duke Seneca tried to help her, sorting by things he had no control over, things he had some control over, and all the ones he managed to keep from being applied.

Beks could only imagine what it would be like if the Duke of Seneca hadn’t stayed. She glanced across her desk at the old man with the bags under his eyes, but the determination on his face, and felt a bit of distress. Though he was given permission to rest, Duke Seneca did not.

He handed her a document. “This should be retracted and the original policy reinstated as per the verbiage of the policy text.”

Beks reached across the desk to look at the documents. “This is the changes made to the support programs for the military.”

“I have failed you, Your Highness,” the old man said with disappointed, tired eyes. “They would not listen to reason.”

Beks shook her head. “It was never about reason or ethics. It was about greed,” she replied. “It was about taking money from a budget to bloat their own pockets.”

Duke Seneca shook his head with even more disappointment at her words. “While acting as his council, I repeated my concerns and tried to dissuade the Fourth Prince over and over to reject the proposal, but his cousin had drafted it and they had support from those affiliated with the Hessings.”

Beks flipped over a page, her lips remaining in a tight line. “You did what you could to keep the kingdom from falling apart under the Fourth Prince’s misguided rule, Your Grace. For that, Kadmus owes you a great thanks.”

He shook his head. “It is my duty as the Duke of Seneca to ensure that the governance of the land is maintained.” He frowned. “This is why I had been adamant against allowing the Temple to work with us to provide aid to the people.”

Beks paused. “I heard that was approved.”

The Duke of Seneca gave her a wry smile. “It is not only kingdoms who wanted to flatter the new oracle for favor, Your Highness. Plenty of nobles and aristocrats did as well.”

Beks let out a small scoff of agreement. Once more, she thought of the new oracle who was nowhere to be seen when they searched the Gilded Palace and the royal grounds for several days.

She closed the folio and placed it on her desk.

“I think it’s time for a break, Your Grace,” Beks said with a tired sigh. She leaned back against her chair and put her arms on the arms of her chair. “Let us take a break and reconvene in two hours for fresh eyes.”

Duke Seneca rose to his feet and bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Beks had to give the old man credit. She watched as he left the room without a hint of reluctance. There were plenty of people in court who, if reminded to take a break, would take it as an affront to their ability. As if their thinking wasn’t jeopardized by fatigue at all.

The door closed behind Duke Seneca and Beks closed her eyes, releasing her slow breath.

For the first three days, and then occasionally for another four days after, the Wild Dogs had combed the royal grounds, from the Gilded Palace to the gardens, to the guest houses and beyond, in search of the new oracle.

There were plenty of traces of her presence, especially in Luther’s villa. Plenty of women’s clothes, jewelry, shoes, and various religious text, but that was all. All that was left were things they could not carry when they fled.

There were no traces of correspondence, her robes from the Temple were gone, and so were the basic clothes and adornments of her attendants. All that was left of their belongings were small trinkets and serving tools.

Anything that couldn’t be prioritized to be stuffed into a saddle bag before fleeing.

Luther was still unconscious, so she couldn’t ask him when the new oracle had left. The remaining staff, when questioned, all said that they didn’t realize that the new oracle had left, though they had wondered why she hadn’t been asking for food for her and her attendants and paladins.

Beks had frowned and asked why the new oracle still had paladins in the Gilded Palace. Once she was married, royal guards could protect her. The paladins couldn’t stay in the Gilded Palace and would’ve been relegated to vacant rooms outside the ground. At least, they were before Beks was exiled.

She hadn’t found or heard of any change to that policy, until a young woman who served her when she was in the Old Tower told her that the new oracle didn’t have paladins, plural.

“There was a paladin who was the captain of her paladin escort that often returned and left, but the last few weeks, he had remained in the Gilded Palace.”

“A single paladin? How did he look like?” Beks had a suspicion. The maid furrowed her brows and tried to recall the man.

She pointed out that he had seemed to have been injured and walked with a slight limp. She then called other servants in Luther’s villa to confirm.

Beks almost didn’t speak the entire time, but instead confirmed that it was that paladin who tried to kill her in the Great Temple. Thinking about him again, she wasn’t surprised that he survived.

Once she escaped, even if he couldn’t find the hidden wall that Sister Levina dragged her behind, all he had to do was toss aside all those books that blocked the exit and leave. As a paladin, he wouldn’t face the same restrictions she would moving around the Great Temple. Of course, if he came to the new oracle in Kadmium after their last conflict, then he must’ve told the new oracle that she was alive and well.

Beks narrowed her eyes. Did that mean the new oracle knew she was alive? And would she have figured out that Beks had something to do with the damage that the Great Temple received that night? After all, it was unexpected that Beks would have been there instead of with the Second and Third Prince. The fact that she was present was suspicious.

“Then again...it isn’t as if they can prove it.” Beks muttered to herself. She wondered how much the new oracle knew about what happened at the Great Temple. She tapped her fingers on the desk and stood up.

She walked out of her new office, which was located across from Laurence’s, and closed the door behind her.

“Your Highness.” Two Wild Dogs currently acting as royal guards bowed to her and stepped forward from their positions on either side of her office door. They looked ready to escort her.

“One of you stay. When the Duke of Seneca returns, tell him that I have cancelled the rest of the afternoon as something has come up. I will respond to any of his concerns by morning,” she told them. “The other can guard me. I’d like to go to the Hall of Eloquence.”

They saluted her and one stayed rooted by the door while the other followed her. With the number of staff still under observation, only a skeleton group staffed the Gilded Palace. It was hard to find someone to call for errands, so they’d been using the Wild Dogs.

Beks called for someone to prepare a transport cart, which was a two wheeled covered cart drawn by a horse meant to take royal family members to different locations around the royal grounds. In this case, Beks needed to get to the Hall of Eloquence, which wasn’t as close to the Gilded Palace as the Old Tower.

One was ready under the eaves of the west entrance and Beks climbed on. Her escort guard sat on a bench in the back, outside of the carriage, and gave the order.

The Hall of Eloquence was the guest manor where both the previous oracle and the new oracle resided when they stayed in the city as guests of the royal family. Beks was told that the new oracle officially moved out when she married Luther, but had been living at his villa with her attendants for months before.

It wasn’t as if anyone could stop her and there were no rules prohibiting their cohabitation before marriage. It wasn’t seen as socially appropriate, but when did Luther take societal norms to heart?

They arrived at the front steps of the guest manor. Under normal circumstances, each guest manor had a pair of royal guards guarding its main entrance, but with the current shortage, there was no one.

“Your Highness, the doors are locked. Should we call for Chamberlain Wilton?” her guard asked.

Beks shook her head. Chamberlain Wilton was so busy, she doubted he slept. “It’s fine. I have the key.” She dug into the pockets of her skirt and took out a ring of metal keys almost as large as her hand. She sorted through them to find the one inscribed with the location and unlocked the main entrance.

“Your Highness, His Majesty has ordered that a security sweep of the environment be done for safety before you enter,” her guard told her.

Beks gave him a small nod and stood to the side. The driver of the transport cart walked up the stairs and opened an umbrella to shade her while her guard checked all the major rooms to make sure that there was no one hidden within. After a while, he came out and allowed her in.

Beks first went to the study.

She’d already checked the new oracle’s study in Luther’s villa and found nothing of importance, but she had yet to check her previous residence. The Hall of Eloquence was cleaned after the new oracle moved out, but that was mostly wiping, dusting, and making sure everything was in order or emptied, like trash and wardrobes.

The guard stood by the door and Beks started at the shelf immediately to the left of the entrance to begin her methodological search for anything that could tell her more about the new oracle.

She had to admit, Sister Levina’s words made her doubt that Iris Elpidah was a real oracle, much less the next great one. If that was the case, who was Iris Elpidah and what did she have to gain from being the next oracle?

A small voice in the back of Beks’ head scoffed. She couldn’t ignore the possibility that Iris Elpidah sought to become the next oracle to get closer to Luther. However, considering that she’d been a priestess in training at the Great Temple and had met Luther there, thus beginning their affair, wouldn’t it have made more sense to stay a priestess in training instead of becoming an oracle who had numerous expectations placed on them?

Iris Elpidah didn’t go about her duties as the previous oracles did. According to Sister Levina’s private records of previous oracles, after being identified, they would serve at the Great Temple for a few years. It was only when they were in their mid-twenties that they would begin traveling around the continent.

And it wasn’t a continuous travel. The Great Temple was always their home. Their base. They would do a tour of a country, do blessings, give guidance, and speak of things that were to happen, either big or small, and then return to the Great Temple to take their seat on the Temple Council.

Beks frowned as she ran her fingers down the row of book spines, looking for an anomaly amongst them as she knew that the last Great Oracle had written a lot, but not all her work reached the Great Temple.

Iris Elpidah, though young, should have been involved with the Temple’s Council of High Priests and High Priestesses, the very top of the Temple’s hierarchy. That was an amount of power most members of the Temple would never reach.

It gave her private guards, the paladins, which she already had, but wealth, and incredible influence. If Iris Elpidah wanted power, she wouldn’t have followed Luther to Kadmium.

Beks paused for a moment and raised her brow. Did that mean that Iris Elpidah was simply deeply in love with Luther and was willing to lose everything for a chance to be with him?

Beks’ eyes crinkled up. “They were made for each other, it seems....”

She shook her head and continued to search the shelves for anything that might have been out of place.

Halfway through the room, she reached the wooden desk and began to check all the drawers. There were some unused pens, nibs, an unopened jar of black ink, and a stack of parchment and envelopes, but any letters she hoped to find to and from the new oracle weren’t found.

Sighing, Beks took a seat on the plush leather chair behind the desk. She looked towards the closed, single dark wood door across the rooms and the various books and room decorations.

Perhaps the maids had already removed anything that belonged to the oracles. Nothing seemed out of place and since this was a guest manor, there were no secret places to hide things.

Beks paused. She sat up straight.

“Except the bed.” She pushed herself out of the chair and marched out of the room, her guard following her from two paces back. As she climbed up the stairs, Beks remembered that the bedframes in the guest manors had once been bedframes in the Gilded Palace’s predecessor building.

When the new Gilded Palace was built, the furniture inside was still of excellent quality and a waste to throw away, so they were reassigned to the guest manors so that important guests could still have royal luxuries, though outdated. The rooms in the Gilded Palace furniture was all new and more elaborate and luxurious than before.

Except for Laurence’s bed.

She hadn’t thought about it because she didn’t think to compare them, but Luther, Laz, and Lucian’s beds were all the newer style. They were gilded with elaborate carvings and hooded canopies. There were two sets of bars on the sides and at the foot of the bed that held up the drapes that surrounded it. The inner bar held up the thinner, more sheer pale curtains while the outer bar held the thicker, embroidered, and elaborate drapes.

Laurence’s bed was similar, but it was older, without any of the expensive flourishes of other beds.

There was one more bed that had a similar style, though smaller, and it was hers in the Old Tower.

Both had something in common: the compartment beneath the mattress.

The other day, while searching Luther’s villa, she’d checked for a secret compartment in his bedframe, only to find none. There was nothing under the bed, either. Her new villa’s bed also lacked that secret compartment, and she now she was wondering if those secret compartments only existed in the old bedframes.

She pushed open the door to the largest bed chamber in the manor and walked towards the bed. The room had been aired out and, like some of the other rooms she passed, large pieces of furniture were covered by sheets to keep dust off until the next use.

The bed had also been stripped of its sheets, cases, and blankets. Even the pillows were put away, revealing the flat, cushioned mat made of cotton, straw, and fabric.

Beks knelt down beside it and reached under the edge of the mattress to lift it up.

“Your Highness, do you need assistance?”

“No, I’m fine. You can wait outside,” Beks told her guard as she sat on the exposed wooden frame and heaved the side of the mattress on her shoulder. It slumped against her left side as she looked at the paneling beneath the mattress.

Her eyes lit up.

It was like the secret compartment where Laurence had kept gold plates and an engagement annulment approval for her. The pattern of the wood planks and panels beneath the mattress was chevron and if one didn’t know that there was a panel there, they never would notice the shallow line that indicated part of the panel could be removed.

Beks moved her hand against the panel, looking for some sort of handle or groove she could utilize to lift the panel. She found that around the lip of the bed frame, there were some grooved patterns. She slipped her fingers between the lips and moved around looking for any latch or loose piece.

She furrowed her brows and continued to search until she heard a small click. One of the panels popped up and Beks leaned forward to lift it up. The slab of wood was moved to the side to reveal a small triangle-shaped compartment. It wasn’t as deep or as large as the secret compartment in Laurence’s room, but it was enough for a small, worn velvet drawstring bag.

Beks reached down and picked it up. She moved the wooden panel back in place and pushed it down until she heard the familiar click. She then lowered the mattress back and sat on top of it.

She pulled apart the opening of the dark green bag. After being hidden for who knew how long, there was little dust, meaning it had been hidden well for quiet sometime. She pushed up a thick, hand-sized leather notebook. It was unadorned with no flourishes or embossing.

She could buy a few of these at a stationary store in the city for relatively cheap. The covers weren’t hard, just thick, but low-quality leather. It was kept closed by a leather cord that wrapped around the entire book.

Beks moved it around in her hands. This wasn’t the sort of low-quality notebook she’d find in a piece of royal furniture. She would expect it to be afforded by students from moderately well-to do households, but even then, there would be sort of personalization with their initials or a family symbol.

Opening it up, the pages stuck together and almost fell apart. Beks hissed and gathered the pages over her lap, straightening them into a neat pile before carefully reopening it.

Her eyes narrowed at once.

She couldn’t recognize the language immediately. At first, she thought it was so old that it was written in a form of Jasper that was no longer commonly used, but it wasn’t. It was written with an ink pen and the pink was still vivid. The glue of the book had deteriorated, but the pages weren’t so frail that they’d fall apart.

It was more like the book was worn because it was used so much.

Beks flipped through the pages and found that the book was filled up until the last few pages.

The last page would’ve been the last one written and the last sentence wasn’t written in the language she couldn’t immediately identify, but in Jasper. Modern Jasper, as if someone had written it yesterday.

“I was born on the 2nd Hesk of Holy Year 2344, died on 3rd Dian of Holy Year 2369, awoken as Fredrika Solken on the 1st Hesk of Holy Year 1998.”

Her heart tightened in her chest as she clenched the old worn book in her hand. Was this a joke? Most countries counted their years by dynasty or country founding, but the Holy Year was how the Temple kept track of the years, starting from when they supposedly ordered by the gods to keep count of the years without referring to who was the leader of the Temple of the time.

However, because it had maintained their date keeping, Holy Year would be used as a reference point to measure dates. Kadmus documents included the Holy Year date as well as something like the third day of the fifth month of the sixth-year reign of King so-and-so.

Beks, of course, knew what Holy Year it was.

“2076,” she muttered under her breath. “What does she mean born almost three hundred years from now? Awoken?” The math wasn’t adding up.

A knock came from the door and Beks continued to look at the notebook.

“Beks? Are you in here?” Laz’ muffled voice came from the hall.

“I’m here,” Beks said. She flipped through some more pages, but everything else was written in a language she couldn’t make sense of. She could recognize words and characters, but it was as if Jasper and Langsher had been blended together.

The door opened and Laz peeked in. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and looked at her. He raised a brow. “Is something wrong?”

“I found a book,” Beks said. She looked up at him. “What’s wrong? Is Duke Seneca asking about me?”

Laz shook his head. “No, the guard at your door says that Duke Seneca was happy to have the rest of the day off and went to his family’s flat in the city.” He approached Beks and gave her a quizzical look. “What made you want to come here all of a sudden?”

Beks looked around the room that was covered with cloth. “I was looking for something the oracles might have left behind.”

Laz drew his head back and cringed. “On the bed? I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

Beks knit her brows together. “What do you-” She jumped up off the bed, clutching the notebook against her chest and glowered at the mattress of straw, cotton, and fabric with disgust. “I didn’t think about that until you mentioned it!”

Laz crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a knowing look. “Didn’t you suspect that he was having his affair here?”

“I didn’t suspect,” Beks told him. “I knew. And I wasn’t thinking about that.” She stepped away from the bed. “I’ll have the mattress burned.”

Laz chuckled and looked at the book. “What did you find?”

“A small book. I was hoping to find something that would confirm my suspicions about the new oracle not being a true oracle.”

“As what Sister Levina told you?”

Beks nodded. “She certainly isn’t acting like any other oracle on record.”

“We don’t know the private lives of the oracles.”

“Perhaps you don’t,” Beks said with a small look of defiance. She lifted her chin. “Why are you looking for me? It certainly isn’t to sleep with me here in a strange attempt to get revenge of Luther, is it?”

Laz drew his head back once more. “I didn’t think of that, but once you have the mattress burned, I’ll consider it.”

Beks rolled her eyes. “Really, what’s wrong? Is it urgent?”

Laz shook his head. “I don’t think it is, but Lucian and Brother Laurence said I should tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

Laz took a deep breath and then let out a long exhale. “Luther woke up.”

Beks brows shot up. Aside from his broken bones, bloody nose, and what seemed to be some internal injuries, it was expected that Luther make a full recovery. Still, he had remained unconscious for days after the fall.

Her mother suggested it could’ve been psychological, as he’d just witnessed his father beheaded in front of him. Perhaps he lost the will to live.

None of the other brothers and Beks would let him die so easily. He had a lot to answer and needed to be punished.

Laurence asked some of the life biha users from Sagittate to feed energy into Luther to keep him alive since he wasn’t eating, and to help heal his injuries. Luther’s bed chamber was guarded by Wild Dogs, and doctors checked on him multiple times a day. It was expected that he’d wake up soon.

Even so, the longer Luther was unconscious, the more his health would deteriorate. Biha alone was not enough to keep a person alive indefinitely.

“It’s about time,” Beks said with a frown. “Doctors and biha users are kept busy attending to him.”

Laz grinned. “Not to mention we have many questions.”

“Well, is he awake and able to answer or questions or simply conscious, and is in some sort of a daze?” Beks said. “Does he remember anything? Does he know where he is? Who he is?”

“He knows who he is, and considering that he started crying, he also remembers what happened,” Laz told her. “Brother Laurence said I should tell you, but not to force you to see him. Not that I’d do so.”

Beks nodded her head once. “I don’t want to see him right now. It’ll only upset him.”

Laz raised a brow. “Lucian said he asked about you.”

Beks frowned. “He can ask about me all he wants. I won’t come at his beck and call. And what I’d say to him would only upset him further, so before I do, he should be physically and mentally ready to take it.”

Laz tilted his head to the side. “Well, what do you want to tell him?”

“Firstly, I want to know where the new oracle went. We combed the entire royal grounds and the city for her, but couldn’t find her or any of her attendants and paladins. Second.” Beks took a deep breath. “He’ll ask me why I let his father be killed. I have an answer for him and it’ll be an incredible blow. It’s likely that he won’t accept the answer immediately. Or at all.”

“About how the Third Consort conspired against Brother Laurence and Lady Eleanor?” Laz asked, uncross his arms.

Beks pursed her lips. “And about how he conspired against the King Consort and Uncle Timur.”

She watched Laz’s curious eyes darken and narrow. “It’s something we always suspected, but never had any proof of. He hid it well.”

Beks drew her lips inward and bit them. It wasn’t that the Third Consort hid it well. He was conniving, but he didn’t have that much of a reach to cover up his part in royal deaths. There was only one person who could make it happen.

“Laz, it wasn’t him,” Beks said in a raspy voice.

Laz drew his head back and appeared surprised. “What are you talking about? The Third Consort was innocent?”

“No.” Beks shook her head. “It wasn’t the Third Consort who covered up his crimes. He was just a son from a noble family that wasn’t particularly powerful, wealthy, or influential. Their greatest claim was that your maternal grandmother was a daughter of the family. Someone else found out and to protect him, covered it up.”

Laz’s face paled and he looked at Beks with disbelief. “Who would do that? His father?”

Beks shook her head. “No. You know who she is.”

Laz drew his head back. He slowly shook his head. “No...no, they were an arranged marriage, but they were friends-”

“It wasn’t that she disliked her consorts, it was that she wanted to protect the man she loved,” Beks said, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice. The feelings she had when she found out surged through her once more. Even though she didn’t personally know the King Consort, she still felt betrayed.

Laz leaned back against the wall and looked down, searching the ground in front of him. “Addah and Father...they did so much for her. They helped solidify her rule. Even if it was purely political, they had a bond that was forged through blood on the battlefield. They trusted her.”

Beks understood that, but she also understood that the late Queen didn’t sanction such actions. She found out about both conspiracies after Uncle Timur died. She cared about them, but she loved her distant cousin more.

Beks laughed and Laz turned his head towards her. She lifted her hand to silently tell him that she wasn’t laughing at the death of his father. “Luther is really her son, isn’t he?” Beks said with some resentment in her eyes. “At the cost of everyone else who gave her loyalty, she chose to side with another...because of ‘love’. Like mother like son.”

Laz shut his eyes and let out a low breath. He walked towards Beks and leaned forward, putting his head against her shoulders. “My own mother...protected the life of the man who arranged my father’s murder. How do I tell Lucian? Brother Laurence?”

“Brother Laurence already knows,” Beks said. She tilted her head and rested it against Laz’s. “Who do you think calmed me down when I found out from my sources? Brother Laurence said he suspected it. After all, who else would have enough power and resources to cover up a royal’s murder?”

Laz stood there and didn’t move. “I suddenly don’t want to see Luther, either.”

“Then, you can keep me company.” She felt him nod against her shoulder.

“What are you reading?” he asked, his eyes red.

“I’m not sure. I can’t really make out the text and the only part I can read doesn’t make any sense.” She showed the last written page to Laz. He squinted.

“Who is Fredrika Solken? I don’t know anyone or any family with Solken as a name,” Laz said.

Beks chewed her lips a bit and look at the notebook. “She didn’t go by Fredrika Solken when she was here,” Beks replied. She closed the book and looked at Laz. “Fredrika Solken is who she woke up as, but she maintained her original name.”

Laz looked even more confused. “Who was she?”

“The last Great Oracle.”