Everyone stilled, paralyzed by the sound of the cry, which came a second time, echoing through the corridors like a haunting specter. Viktor's piercing gaze narrowed, shifting from Heidi to the Queen mother, who stood at a distance, her expression unreadable.
"What's going on?" one of the guests asked, her voice trembling as she clutched her mask.
Viktor's eyes locked onto Heidi, his voice barely above a whisper. "Stay put." He removed his mask, revealing his chiseled features, tense with concern. With a fluid motion, he rose from his seat and strode towards the corridor, the source of the cry.
The Queen mother followed closely behind him, her silk gown rustling against the marble floor. Viktor's long strides devoured the distance, while the Queen mother fell slightly behind.
As they turned a corner, Viktor's gaze widened at the gruesome sight before him. The King lay on the cold marble, blood pooling beside his head painting the tiles red. A dagger protruded from his chest, surrounded by vicious stab marks. A flicker of surprise, anger and sorrow flashed through viktor's eyes.
Genevieve stood nearby, her eyes wide with horror, her skin drained of color. Her trembling lips parted, but no sound emerged.
Viktor's gaze lingered on Genevieve, his expression void of any emotions. "What happened here?" His voice was low and calm, a stark contrast to his demeanour.
Genevieve's voice barely registered above a whisper. "I-I was walking by... and I saw him lying there. Then I cried out in shock, I didn't see anyone else around, just Wilson." Her gaze darted to Wilson who stood at a corner, his hands drenched in blood.
"W-who could have done this to my son, the king? How could no guard had been around him?!" Queen mother Emilia vented, feeling her heart squeeze at the sight of her dead son.
Lady Vivian who had just entered the corridor, felt her knees go weak at the sight. She fell to the floor, her gaze darting towards Genevieve. "You... I overheard you having an argument with the king earlier today. How could you?" Her voice was laced with Subtle accusation.
Genevieve who was feeling down, snapped at Vivian, angry that she would accuse her of killing the king. "How dare you accuse me of such a deed? We had a little argument but that doesn't mean I murdered my own husband. Her voice rose, defensive.
"Perhaps we should ask Wilson why his hands are drenched in the king's blood."
Vivian gaze fell on Wilson, who seemed lost as he stared at the blood in his hands. "W-why do you h-have blood on your hands, wilson?" She asked, her voice trembling at the thought.
Wilson's eyes slowly rose, his expression haunted. "I... I don't know," he stammered, his blue eyes filled with fear.
Markus and Amara burst into the corridor, their faces ashen. "Father! What happened to him?!" Markus's voice trembled, frustration and anguish warring within.
His gaze fell upon Wilson's blood-drenched hands, and his words faltered. "Did you...?" The accusation hung in the air, unspoken.
Wilson shook his head, tears brimming in his eyes. "I swear I didn't do anything wrong. I have no idea how I ended up here." His voice shattered, desperation creeping in.
Genevieve's gaze narrowed, skepticism etched on her face. "Do you expect us to believe that? Your hands are drenched in his blood." Her words cut through the air, sharp as a blade.
Vivian rushed to defend her son. "We all know Wilson would never—"
Genevieve cut her off, her tone icy. "Then explain the blood on his hands."
Viktor's firm voice sliced through the tension. "That's enough! The least you all could do is not argue over his body." His authoritative tone commanded silence.
Amara's eyes, filled with unshed tears, locked onto the King's lifeless form. Her lips trembled, but she remained silent, her grief a heavy burden.
Viktor walked closer to the king's lifeless body, crouching down beside him. His hands moved, closing the king's eye which was still open. His gaze moved to the dagger which was buried deep in his chest, narrowing as it fell on a piece of paper.
He took out a handkerchief from his pocket, carefully wrapping it around the hilt of the dagger. He then pulled the dagger out of the king's chest, blood splattering on the ground in the process. He picked up the piece of paper attached to the dagger, unfolding it carefully.
Viktor, what...what does it say?" Queen Emilia's voice trembled, her eyes fixed on the paper now unfolded in Viktor's hand.
Viktor's gaze dropped to the paper, his expression darkening at the words.
"'Happy homecoming, Prince Viktor,'" he read aloud, his voice low and measured. "'I hope you like my gift.'"
The room fell silent, as if the words had sucked the air out. Genevieve's eyes narrowed, her gaze flicking between Viktor and the Queen. Markus looked lost, his eyes darting between his father's body and Viktor.
Queen Emilia's face paled, her voice barely above a whisper. "Viktor, what does it mean?"
Viktor's jaw clenched, his eyes burning with an intense light as he surveyed the gruesome scene. "It means the killer is someone closer to us than we think. Whoever did this clearly wanted to pass a message across." He carefully wrapped the dagger in the handkerchief, the silk fabric stained with the King's blood. Then, he tucked the piece of paper into his pocket, his gaze lingering on the words.
His eyes scanned the King's body, counting the stab wounds - sixteen in total. The brutality of the attack made Viktor even more intrigued. Whoever did this was a psychopathic murderer, he thought, his gaze drifting to the pool of blood around the King's head. The killer had obviously knocked him down with a blow to the head before stabbing him repeatedly in a frenzied attack. Leaving the note for him to find, with the dagger that had obviously inflicted the stab wounds.
Amara, who couldn't control her emotions anymore, broke down in tears. "Who would kill the King so brutally? Whoever did this is an animal," she sobbed, her voice cracking with pain and anger.
Genevieve, recovered from her initial shock, began to calculate the implications. She wasn't happy about the king's death, but that didn't mean it wasn't an advantage to her. Her eyes narrowed, her voice laced with forced concern. "I can't believe Bloodstone is left without a king now. Who will take care of the kingdom's affairs?"
The Queen Mother's gaze snapped to Genevieve, her eyes flashing with suspicion. "The King is dead, Genevieve, and that's all you think about. I'm beginning to wonder if you had a hand in this gruesome incident." Her voice was low and sharp, cutting through the tension.
Genevieve's composure faltered for an instant before she regained control. A flicker of dread passed through her eyes, replaced by a calculated calm. "Of course not, Mother. I was only stating important concerns. The news will soon reach the guardians and ministers."
The Queen Mother's gaze hardened, her expression stoic and unyielding. "No one is allowed to speak of a new king until this matter is resolved, am I clear?" Her voice commanded attention, silencing the room.
Genevieve offered a measured smile. "Of course, Mother." But her eyes betrayed a hint of calculation, her mind already racing toward the empty throne.
The vizier entered the room, his face pale as he took in the gruesome scene. "You called for me, milady?"
Queen Mother Emilia steeled herself. "Have the castle closed off immediately. No one is allowed to leave or enter until the interrogations are over." She paused, her voice firm. "If anyone disobeys, bring them to me immediately."
The vizier bowed, hastening to carry out the Queen Mother's instructions.
As the vizier departed, Levi entered the corridor, flanked by guards. He bowed, his gaze falling on the King's body before drifting to Viktor.
Viktor straightened from his crouch, approaching Levi. "Have the King's body properly washed and preserved in the glass cubicle." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'd like to take a proper look at it."