Free Web NovelChapter 10: Chapter 10: The King’s Assignment
After Drazeil had changed into the garments Ulric had laid out for him, he teleported straight to the castle.
He arrived directly in front of the King, who was mid-sentence in a meeting with his Inner Council. The councillors nearest to him startled visibly. One knocked over his goblet. Nobody said anything about it.
"What do you need to discuss with me," Drazeil said, unbothered, and leaned against the wall.
The King blinked, then exhaled with the practiced patience of a man who had long since accepted that dignity was a luxury unavailable to anyone who dealt with Drazeil regularly.
"Ah. You came right on time." He gestured vaguely at the room. "But must you always teleport directly in? You nearly gave me a heart attack."
"If you called me here only to complain about my methods," Drazeil said, "I might as well take my leave now."
"No, no." The King straightened, setting aside the lighter tone with the ease of someone who wore his moods like interchangeable garments. "I called you here to discuss important matters." He paused, fingers lacing together on the table. "First — I am certain you are already aware that the butler from this morning’s execution has returned to life. And the girl who made the speech —" He tilted his head slightly, watching Drazeil’s face with the attention of someone who rarely missed anything. "She is quite intriguing, don’t you agree?"
Drazeil said nothing.
The King waited exactly long enough to make a point of the silence, then moved on.
"The council and I have been discussing it. What she said this morning — about justice — I have decided to take it into consideration."
Drazeil scoffed internally. Since when had the King concerned himself with justice? He did what benefited him. He always had. Justice was simply the packaging he chose when it suited the presentation.
"That is why," the King continued, "I shall be assigning you and Lady Celestia the task of investigating this matter further. There have been magical anomalies — not only the mana scarcity, but other occurrences that have gone unaddressed for too long."
A council member rose from his seat — grey-haired, meticulous, the kind of man who had survived multiple administrations by being useful at exactly the right moments.
"In addition, Your Majesty, there is the matter of the noble who recently died under suspicious circumstances. We believe the cases may be connected. We would request that they investigate that as well."
Drazeil’s expression did not change.
Working with someone else. He despised it as a rule — had refused it every time it had been suggested, and it had been suggested many times. The councillors had discussed it before he arrived, he was certain. Half of them were watching him now with the expressions of people waiting for a refusal.
But then something shifted quietly in the back of his mind.
A girl with buried Celestial energy. Mana anomalies that had been circling her for years. A witch who appeared from nowhere to save a dead butler. The Shadows, always the Shadows, moving just out of sight.
And Celestia, standing in the middle of all of it without the faintest idea of what she actually was.
He could use her. Being assigned to work alongside her gave him proximity, access, and a legitimate reason to watch her closely without raising questions. He could learn what she was before she learned it herself.
A grin didn’t reach his face. But something close to one moved through him privately.
"Alright," he said. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com
The silence that followed was almost satisfying.
Every councillor in the room exchanged glances with every other councillor in the room. The King’s eyebrow rose a fraction — the royal equivalent of open shock.
"I see," the King said, after a moment. "Well then." He seemed to consider saying more and decided against it. "There is one other thing I feel compelled to mention."
Drazeil waited.
"Today. In the Court." The King’s voice was measured. Careful. The voice of a man choosing his words with the awareness that some conversations were more dangerous than others. "We all saw it, Drazeil. Every person in the Royal Court saw it. You hesitated." A pause. "I have never seen you hesitate before. Not once, in all the years you have served the Crown."
The room had gone very still.
"I suppose weakness is a thing, Father," said a voice from the doorway — easy, unbothered, and precisely timed.
Thaddeus strolled into the chamber like a man arriving at a social gathering he had been looking forward to all week. He bowed to the King with the specific elegance of someone who had been trained to perfection and chose, daily, to deploy that training selectively.
"Greetings, Your Majesty. Council." His eyes swept the room and landed briefly on Drazeil, bright with amusement.
"You completed the task quickly," the King remarked.
"When you have legs like these and a face this ethereally well-made, doors simply open faster." He spread his hands modestly. "I cannot explain it. It is simply my burden to carry."
Several councillors laughed despite themselves. Thaddeus had that effect on rooms. He deployed it deliberately and everyone knew it and laughed anyway.
"You may leave now," the King said.
"Of course, Father."
Thaddeus passed Drazeil on his way out. He said nothing. He simply looked at him — one brief, knowing glance — and winked.
Drazeil looked away.
When the door closed behind him, the King returned to business.
"Two events are approaching," he said, settling back in his chair. "The Grand Coven Assembly and the Royal Ball. The Ball serves as the formal Presentation of the Princes — tradition demands that all princes be presented before the Crown Prince selection begins. Following the Ball, the Trial of Worthiness shall commence. Each prince must prove himself deserving of the title."
A councillor — the same grey-haired one from before — leaned forward. "If I may, Your Majesty — regarding the princes. There are some among us who feel certain candidates are more suited than others."
"Thaddeus, for example," another said, with the confidence of a man stating the obvious. "The boy is simply not fitted for the Crown. He is too —"
"Himself," someone else supplied, and there were murmurs of agreement.
"What do you think, Drazeil?" the King asked.
Drazeil looked at him flatly. "I don’t."
"You don’t think, or you don’t care?"
"Both." He straightened from the wall. "Why are you telling me any of this? The Crown Prince selection has nothing to do with me."
"An invitation will be extended to you," the King said simply. "Your presence at the Ball would be valued."
Drazeil said nothing. He turned and walked toward the door.
"The investigation begins immediately," the King added, to his back. "Lady Celestia will be informed. I trust you will make the partnership —" A delicate pause. "Productive."
The door closed.
