Adrian's POV
"On what charges?" I stood between Seraphine and Cassandra's bed. "Be specific, Your Majesty."
Queen Seraphine's smile was cold as ice. "Breaking into royal chambers. Theft of Crown property. Conspiracy against the throne."
"Proof?" I challenged.
"I don't need proof. I'm the Queen."
"Actually, you do." Viktor Ashford stepped into the room, followed by Dr. Chen and a dozen guards wearing different uniforms. "These are City Guards, Your Majesty. They answer to the King, not to you. And they require evidence before making arrests."
Seraphine's eyes narrowed. "Viktor. I should have known you were involved."
"Involved in what? Helping an injured noblewoman?" Viktor gestured to Cassandra. "Lady Cassandra was attacked in the lower city. Dr. Chen has treated her wounds. Prince Adrian came to check on his fiancée's health. Where's the crime?"
"She was in my chambers!" Seraphine's composure cracked. "She stole—"
"Stole what?" I interrupted. "Unless you're admitting there was something in your chambers worth stealing? Something that maybe shouldn't have been there?"
The trap snapped shut beautifully. If Seraphine admitted something was stolen, she'd have to say what it was. And if she said "a journal proving I murdered the late Queen," well, that would be awkward.
Seraphine's face went red with rage. "This isn't over."
"No, it's not," I agreed. "But it's not starting here either. Leave."
"You dare order me—"
"Leave my fiancée's sickroom. She needs rest." I met her eyes without flinching. "Or I'll have the City Guards escort you out. Your choice."
For a long moment, we stared at each other. The sick prince versus the murderous Queen.
Finally, Seraphine turned and swept out, her own guards following. But at the door, she looked back.
"Enjoy your little victory, Adrian. It won't last." Her smile returned, sharp as a blade. "Three days. That's all you have to prepare for your wedding. Royal protocol demands it be done quickly once announced. After all, we wouldn't want any... accidents... before the ceremony."
She left.
The moment she was gone, Viktor locked the door.
"That was dangerous," he said. "You just made yourself her primary target."
"I was already her target. Now I'm just not pretending otherwise." I looked at the City Guards. "Can we trust them?"
"They're loyal to Captain Hendricks. He was Queen Helena's personal guard before she died. He's been waiting years for a chance to make things right." Viktor's expression was grim. "But he can only protect you inside the palace. Outside these walls, you're vulnerable."
"Then I'll stay inside for three days." I looked at Cassandra. She'd fallen asleep, exhausted from blood loss and pain. "What about her?"
"She stays here. Dr. Chen and his staff will watch her constantly. I've also sent for her brother—he should arrive by evening." Viktor pulled out the leather journal. "And we need to read this. All of it. Before the wedding."
We spent the next hour reading my father's—no, Lord Nyx's—journal. Every page was worse than the last.
Evidence of poison purchases. Dates matching Queen Helena's illness. Names of accomplices. Testimony about what Lord Nyx witnessed. And a final entry, written the night before his execution:
"They will kill me tomorrow. Frame me for the very crime I tried to expose. But I write this truth: Queen Helena was murdered by Seraphine. Prince Marcus was murdered by Seraphine. And young Prince Adrian is being murdered slowly, though he doesn't know it yet. If anyone reads this, please—save the boy. He's innocent in all of this. Just a child caught in a monster's game."
My hands shook holding those pages. This man—Cassandra's father—had tried to save Adrian. Had died trying.
"This is enough," Viktor said quietly. "Enough to destroy Seraphine. Enough to clear Lord Nyx's name. Enough to change everything."
"But we can't use it yet," I said.
"Why not?"
"Because if we expose her now, she'll move against us immediately. Assassins. Poison. She'll kill everyone connected to this before the King can act." I set the journal down carefully. "We need more time. More allies. More protection."
"The wedding," Viktor realized. "Once you're married to Cassandra, you have legal protection. A spouse can't be forced to testify against their partner. And killing a prince's wife would cause too much attention."
"Exactly. We get married. Secure our position. Then we release the evidence publicly—somewhere Seraphine can't suppress it." I thought fast, my mafia brain working through scenarios. "The Succession Trials. When all the nobles are gathered. When we have an audience she can't control."
Viktor nodded slowly. "Risky. But it could work."
A knock on the door made us both jump. Dr. Chen checked through a peephole, then opened it.
Elias entered, looking terrified. "Adrian, Father wants to see you. He's... he's really angry."
"About the marriage announcement?"
"About everything. The defiance. The City Guards. Viktor being involved." Elias swallowed hard. "He's talking about forbidding the wedding. Maybe even arresting you for insubordination."
My stomach dropped. If the King forbade the marriage, everything fell apart.
"Can he do that?" Viktor asked.
"He's the King," Elias said. "He can do whatever he wants."
"Then I need to convince him not to." I stood. "Where is he?"
"Private throne room. But Adrian, he's not alone. Seraphine is with him. And Damian." Elias grabbed my arm. "It's a trap. They're going to corner you, force you to back down, maybe even arrest you."
"Let them try." I headed for the door.
"Wait." Viktor pulled something from his coat. "Take this."
It was a small vial of clear liquid.
"Poison?" I asked.
"Antidote. For arsenic, nightshade, and a dozen other common poisons. If they try to drug you during the meeting, drink this after. It'll save your life."
I pocketed the vial. "Thanks."
"Don't thank me yet. Just survive."
The private throne room was smaller and more intimate than the main one. King Aldric sat on a simple chair, not his throne. Queen Seraphine stood beside him, her hand on his shoulder. Damian leaned against the wall, smirking.
A family meeting. How touching.
"Adrian," the King said coldly. "Sit."
I sat in the chair across from him. Deliberately relaxed. Showing no fear.
"This marriage cannot happen," Aldric said. "I'm forbidding it."
"On what grounds?"
"I don't need grounds. I'm your King and your father."
"You're my King," I agreed. "But you stopped being my father years ago."
Seraphine gasped dramatically. Damian straightened up, surprised.
Aldric's face went purple. "How dare—"
"How dare I tell the truth?" I leaned forward. "You've ignored me since Mother died. Let Seraphine poison me. Let my brothers torture me. You didn't care if I lived or died. So don't pretend you're forbidding this marriage out of fatherly concern."
"I'm forbidding it because that girl's family are traitors!"
"Lord Nyx was framed." I said it clearly, firmly. "And I can prove it."
Silence fell over the room.
"What?" Aldric whispered.
"I have evidence. Documents. Testimony. Lord Nyx was innocent. He was executed for trying to save Queen Helena." I met the King's eyes. "Your first wife. My mother. The woman you supposedly loved."
"This is nonsense," Seraphine said quickly. "Adrian's been sick, not thinking clearly—"
"I'm thinking perfectly clearly." I pulled out one page from the journal—just one, not enough to give away everything. "This is Lord Nyx's handwriting. Dated two weeks before Mother died. He documented strange symptoms she was having. Symptoms of arsenic poisoning."
Aldric's hands trembled as he took the page. Read it. His face went white.
"This... this proves nothing," he said, but his voice shook.
"It proves I should investigate further. And I can't do that if I'm isolated and vulnerable." I stood. "So I'm marrying Cassandra. In three days, as protocol demands. And you're going to allow it. Because deep down, you know something was wrong about Mother's death. You've always known."
"Father," Damian spoke up. "Don't let him manipulate you. This is just Adrian being dramatic—"
"Shut up, Damian." The King's voice was barely a whisper. He stared at the paper like it was a ghost. "Everyone out. I need to think."
"Aldric, you can't seriously consider—" Seraphine started.
"I SAID OUT!" The King's roar shook the room.
Seraphine's face went white with rage, but she left. Damian followed, shooting me a look of pure hatred.
When we were alone, Aldric looked at me. Really looked at me, maybe for the first time in years.
"Is this real?" he asked quietly.
"Yes."
"Helena was murdered?"
"Yes."
"And Cassandra's father tried to save her?"
"Yes. He died for it."
Tears ran down the King's weathered face. "I loved her. Your mother. She was... she was everything. After she died, I..." He couldn't finish.
"You let Seraphine in," I said. Not cruelly. Just stating fact. "And she's been destroying this family ever since."
"If what you're saying is true—"
"It is."
"Then I've been a fool." Aldric wiped his eyes. "A blind, stupid fool. I let my grief destroy my judgment. I let her..." He looked at me. "She's been poisoning you too?"
"For two years."
"God." He covered his face with his hands. "What have I done?"
I could have piled on. Could have made him feel worse. But Marco had learned something in twenty years of the mafia: broken allies were useless. You either destroyed enemies completely or rebuilt allies carefully.
"You can start fixing it now," I said gently. "Allow the marriage. Protect Cassandra and me. And when I'm ready, I'll show you all the evidence. Everything."
"And then?"
"Then we make them pay. All of them."
Aldric nodded slowly. "The wedding will proceed. I'll make the announcement tonight." He met my eyes. "But Adrian? Be careful. Seraphine is dangerous. If she thinks you're a real threat..."
"She already does."
"Then watch your back. Trust no one."
I left the private throne room feeling shaky. That went better than expected, but also worse. Because now Seraphine knew I had evidence. Knew the King was wavering.
She'd escalate. Soon.
I made it back to Cassandra's room just as she woke up.
"Adrian?" She looked groggy, confused. "What happened?"
"Everything and nothing." I sat beside her bed. "The wedding's approved. Three days from now. Your father's journal is safe. And we just made Queen Seraphine very, very desperate."
"So we're getting married for real." She studied my face. "A business arrangement, like we agreed?"
"Right. Business." I held out my hand. "Partners?"
She took it. Her grip was weak from blood loss, but determined. "Partners. But I want something clear in our contract."
"What?"
"No secrets about enemies. If you know someone's trying to kill me, you tell me. If I discover a threat to you, I tell you. Complete honesty about danger."
"Agreed." I squeezed her hand. "Anything else?"
"Yes." Her green eyes were serious. "Tell me who Marco is."
My blood froze.
"You were talking in your sleep yesterday," she continued. "Before everything went crazy. You said 'Marco wouldn't have missed that shot' and 'I used to be better at this.' Who's Marco, Adrian?"
I opened my mouth. Closed it. What could I say? That I was a reincarnated mafia boss from another world? She'd think I was insane.
But I'd just demanded honesty about enemies. And she was asking for honesty about me.
"Marco was..." I stopped. Started again. "Marco is who I used to be. Before I became Adrian."
"That doesn't make sense."
"I know. But it's the truth." I met her eyes. "Something happened to me recently. I changed. Became someone different. Stronger. And sometimes, when I'm thinking tactically, I think like Marco—like the person I was before."
Cassandra studied me for a long moment. "Are you saying you're possessed? Like in ghost stories?"
"Maybe. Or maybe I just woke up." I squeezed her hand. "Does it matter? I'm here now. Fighting for you. Fighting for us."
"It matters if you're going to disappear," she whispered. "If one day I wake up and Adrian's gone and Marco's in control..."
"That won't happen. We're the same person now. I'm both." I smiled. "Think of it like this: Adrian's the body, Marco's the survival instincts. Together, we might actually win this thing."
She laughed weakly. "We're both crazy. You know that?"
"Probably."
"Good. Sane people wouldn't survive what's coming." She yawned, exhausted again. "Three days until the wedding. Think we'll live that long?"
"We'd better. I refuse to die before the honeymoon."
She blushed—actually blushed. "This is a business arrangement, remember?"
"Right. Business." I grinned. "But if the business arrangement requires us to share a room to maintain the illusion..."
"We'll discuss that later." But she was smiling. "Now let me sleep. I got shot for you today. Least you can do is let me rest."
"Deal."
I started to stand, but she held onto my hand.
"Adrian? Thank you. For everything."
"Thank you for not dying."
"I'll try to make it a habit."
I left her sleeping and found Viktor waiting outside.
"The King approved the wedding," I told him.
"Good. Then we have three days to prepare." Viktor's expression was grim. "Because I just got word from my spies. Seraphine's called in reinforcements."
"What kind of reinforcements?"
"The Shadowhand Guild. Assassins from the northern territories. The best killers money can buy." He met my eyes. "She's not trying to stop the wedding anymore, Adrian. She's trying to make sure you don't survive until then."
Before I could respond, an explosion rocked the palace.
Screams echoed through the corridors. Smoke poured under the door.
Viktor grabbed my arm. "Move! Now!"
We ran toward the sound. Turned a corner and saw flames consuming the west wing.
"What happened?" I shouted over the roar of fire.
A guard stumbled toward us, coughing. "Someone... attacked the archives... set everything on fire..."
The archives. Where centuries of royal documents were kept.
Including birth records. Marriage certificates.
And adoption papers.
My blood went cold.
"They're destroying evidence," Viktor said. "But evidence of what?"
The guard collapsed at our feet. I knelt beside him.
"What did they take?" I demanded. "What documents?"
"The... the royal family tree..." He coughed blood. "They took... your section... and Prince Marcus's..."
He went limp. Dead.
I stood slowly, my mind racing. Why destroy records about me and Marcus?
Unless...
"Viktor," I said slowly. "What if Adrian and Marcus weren't just brothers? What if they were—"
"Twins," someone said behind us.
We spun around.
Standing in the smoke and flames was a woman I'd never seen before. Old. Bent with age. But her eyes were sharp and knowing.
"You're Adrian's twin," she said, looking at me. "Born second. Hidden from the kingdom. Given to another family to raise in secret. Marcus was the original heir."
"That's impossible," I said.
"Is it?" She smiled sadly. "Why do you think Seraphine had Marcus killed? Because he knew the truth. Knew that when he died, his twin—you—would become the rightful heir instead of Damian."
"Who are you?" Viktor demanded.
"The midwife who delivered the twins twenty-two years ago." She held out a burned document. "This is the proof. The only copy left. I've hidden it for decades, waiting for the right time."
I took the paper with shaking hands. Read it.
Birth record. Twins. Adrian and Marcus. Born to Queen Helena. Both legitimate heirs.
"Why hide me?" I whispered.
"Because the prophecy said twins would destroy the kingdom." The old woman's voice was sad. "So the King split you apart. Kept Marcus as the heir. Made you the spare nobody cared about." She looked at me intensely. "But prophecy is tricky. Maybe the twins won't destroy the kingdom. Maybe they'll save it."
"Marcus is dead," I said.
"Is he?" The old woman smiled mysteriously. "Are you sure?"
Then she turned and walked into the flames.
"Wait!" I started after her, but Viktor held me back.
"The fire's too hot! She's gone!"
We stumbled out of the burning wing, coughing and gasping.
Guards rushed past us with water buckets.
I clutched the birth record, my mind reeling.
I had a twin. Marcus was my twin.
And if this old woman was right, if the prophecy was about us...
What did it mean?
I looked up and saw Damian watching from a balcony above. When our eyes met, he smiled.
A smile that said: I know your secret.
And I'm going to use it to destroy you.