King Aldric had ruled for thirty years, and never had he looked so tired.
He sat on his throne in the dead of night, clad in simple silk robes, his face a mask of weary disbelief. Before him stood his youngest daughter, her fine dress spattered with blood, her expression a mixture of fear and fierce determination, making accusations that could tear his kingdom apart.
"A coup?" the King repeated, his voice dangerously quiet. "Led by Duke Marlowe?"
"Yes, Father," Elara said, her voice clear and unwavering despite the ordeal she had just endured. "I have been investigating in secret ever since Duke Theron's trial. Something about Lord Verin's confession felt wrong, incomplete. I used my contacts to follow the trail of his known associates."
She recounted her story with a precision that belied her age. She spoke of secret meetings between nobles, of coded messages, of a growing faction centered around Duke Marlowe. Their goal, she explained, was not to kill the King, but to render him powerless, to force him to install a Regent Council that they would control. The poison plot was merely the first step, a manufactured crisis designed to sow fear and justify their power grab.
The King listened without interruption, his fingers steepled before him, his eyes never leaving his daughter's face. When she finished, a heavy silence filled the throne room.
One of the royal advisors, a portly man named Lord Gower, finally broke the silence. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, these are grave and serious claims. But Princess Elara is young, perhaps inexperienced in the duplicity of court politics—"
"I may be inexperienced, Lord Gower, but I am not blind," Elara snapped back, her eyes flashing. "And I am not the only witness." She gestured to Duke, who had been standing silently beside Gareth and Elias. "Duke Theron was framed as the first move in this very plot. He has faced their assassins and survived."
***
All eyes in the room turned to Duke. The King's gaze was heavy, searching. "You," he commanded. "Tell me your version of these events."
Duke stepped forward, bowing his head respectfully. "Your Majesty, my story is simple, if unbelievable. I discovered poisoned wine in my home, a home that had been in my family for centuries. I began my own investigation, only to be arrested before I could uncover the truth. The trial revealed that Lord Verin purchased the poison, but his defense was a lie designed to obscure a deeper plot."
He recounted the events of the night, his voice calm and factual. "Tonight, Princess Elara contacted me. She shared her suspicions, which confirmed my own. We were ambushed by assassins sent to silence her before she could reach you. Her testimony is not the fantasy of an inexperienced girl; it is a truth that people are willing to kill for."
Duke finished, "Your Majesty, I have no physical proof beyond the events of this night and the word of your daughter. But the pattern is clear. A scapegoat, a crisis, and now an attempt to silence a witness. These are not the actions of loyal subjects."
"This could all be a tragic coincidence," Lord Brennan, the King's lead advisor, interjected smoothly. "Duke Marlowe is a loyal subject who commands significant support among the eastern nobles. Accusing him without irrefutable evidence risks plunging this kingdom into civil war."
Just as the council threatened to descend into argument, Elias stepped forward. "Father," he said, his voice quiet but firm.
The word hung in the air. Duke's eyes widened slightly. The King was not Elias's father. But his brother was. Elias was the King's nephew, a Prince of the blood in his own right.
"I have observed Duke Theron closely through this entire ordeal," Elias continued, his familial connection lending his words immense weight. "He has acted with honor and courage. I believe he is telling the truth."
The King looked at his nephew, the son of his beloved late brother, the boy he had helped raise. "You are certain of this?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Elias said without hesitation. "I am."
***
The lead advisor, Lord Brennan, was not so easily convinced. "Your Majesty, even with Sir Elias's endorsement, the risk is too great. Duke Marlowe is not some minor lord. His territories are vast, his armies are loyal to him. If we move against him openly and are proven wrong, he would be justified in seeing it as an act of aggression. He could rally the eastern provinces to rebellion."
"So what do you suggest, Brennan?" the King asked, his voice strained. "That I do nothing while my daughter claims there is a viper in our midst?"
"I suggest we investigate quietly," Brennan countered. "Send spies. Intercept correspondence. Do not move openly against Marlowe until we have proof that will satisfy every noble in this kingdom."
"If we wait, they will move first!" Elara argued, stepping forward again. "They know I escaped tonight. They will accelerate their plans!"
"And if we act rashly, we hand them the very justification for rebellion they may be looking for!" Brennan retorted. The two sides were at an impasse.
The King was silent, caught in a political vise. He looked tired, old, and trapped.
"Your Majesty," Duke spoke up, his voice cutting through the tense silence. "May I propose a third option?"
The King looked at him, a flicker of hope in his weary eyes. "Speak."
"Lord Brennan is right that an open accusation is dangerous. And the Princess is right that time is of the essence," Duke said. "So we do not make an accusation. We conduct a search. Send a detachment of your most trusted Royal Guards to Duke Marlowe's estate tonight. If he is innocent, as Lord Brennan believes, they will find nothing, and we can apologize for the intrusion. But if he is guilty, as the Princess and I suspect, evidence of his conspiracy will exist. We must do it now, before he has time to learn that we are aware of his plans and destroy the proof."
"A raid?" Brennan scoffed. "That is incredibly provocative."
"Less provocative," Duke replied coolly, "than allowing conspirators to finalize their plans to usurp your throne."
***
King Aldric stood, the simple act silencing all further debate. He paced before the throne, the fate of his kingdom resting on his next words. He stopped and looked at his nephew.
"Elias. Take a detachment of the Royal Guard. Go to Duke Marlowe's capital estate. You have my full authority to search the premises for any and all evidence of treason."
Elias bowed deeply. "Yes, Your Majesty."
The King then turned his gaze upon Duke. "Duke Theron. You will accompany Elias. You claim to know the details of this conspiracy. Prove it. Your knowledge may be the key to finding what we need."
"I will, Your Majesty," Duke said, a sense of grim purpose settling over him.
Finally, the King looked at his daughter. "Elara, you will remain here. In the palace. Under my personal guard. For your own safety."
Elara started to protest, but the King raised a hand, his expression leaving no room for argument. "If what you say is true, you have made powerful enemies tonight. I will not risk losing you."
Elara saw the fear behind his authority and reluctantly agreed with a nod.
"Brennan," the King commanded his advisor. "Summon the captains of the City Watch and the remaining loyal nobles on the council. Tell them to come quietly. We will prepare for the possibility of conflict."
The pieces were in motion. The judgment had been made.
***
The palace armory was a hive of quiet, efficient activity. Duke and Gareth were being fitted with black, unadorned steel plate armor over padded gambesons. The weight was familiar to Duke's new body, a comforting solidity after days of helplessness.
Elias was briefing a dozen of the Royal Guard's finest. "Our warrant is for a search only," he instructed them, his voice low and serious. "We are looking for evidence of treason: letters, ledgers, maps, anything that proves a conspiracy. There will be no violence unless we are attacked first."
"And if Duke Marlowe resists, Sir?" the guard captain asked.
Elias's eyes hardened. "Then we will have our answer."
As a squire tightened the last strap on his vambrace, Duke took a moment to himself, closing his eyes and focusing inward.
**[QUEST UPDATE: UNCOVER THE CONSPIRACY]**
**Progress: 75%**
**New Objective: Find evidence at Marlowe's estate.**
**Warning: This mission is high risk. Consider creating a Save Point.**
He didn't hesitate.
**[SAVE POINT CREATED]**
**Name: "Before Marlowe Raid - 02:30 AM"**
**Slots Used: 4/4**
**Warning: All save slots are now full.**
He opened his eyes just as Elias walked over. The Hero had noticed his momentary pause. "Something wrong?"
"No," Duke replied, his voice steady. "Just… preparing mentally."
***
They rode out from the palace under the cloak of pre-dawn darkness, a small, heavily armed force moving silently through the empty streets. Duke found himself riding beside Elias, with Gareth just behind them.
"You handled yourself well in there," Elias said, breaking the silence. "My uncle… the King… he trusts you now."
"I'm surprised he trusted me at all, considering I was on trial for trying to kill him two days ago," Duke replied dryly.
"He trusts my judgment," Elias corrected. "And I trust… whatever it is you're doing."
Duke glanced at him, the question hanging in the air.
"I still have them," Elias continued, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "The memories. Of timelines that didn't happen. I don't understand it. But I know you are at the center of it all." He paused. "When that assassin had you pinned, for a second, I remembered a version where he succeeded. The memory was so clear, I almost cried out."
The revelation sent a chill down Duke's spine. The Memory Cascade was becoming more vivid, more immediate.
"If this works," Duke said, changing the subject, "if we find the evidence and stop this conspiracy, will that be enough for you? Will you stop asking questions?"
Elias looked at him, a faint, unreadable smile on his lips. "For now," he said.
They rode on in silence as the first hints of grey began to lighten the eastern horizon. Ahead, the grand estate of Duke Marlowe loomed against the approaching dawn, and with it, the truth Duke needed to end this loop, once and for all.