Alaric paced the length of his chambers, his mind tangled in conflicting thoughts.
Richard… Jaefel… could it be both of them? Emma's revelations unsettled him. He had suspected Richard for weeks, his once-loyal knight behaving strangely—too many absences, too many excuses. But now, with Emma's claims about Jaefel, it felt as though the web of suspicion had tightened around someone entirely unexpected. If Jaefel was the one he had been searching for, then his every move mattered now more than ever. Alaric knew he had to act, and swiftly. The king's birthday was just days away, and it seemed the perfect opportunity for someone to strike again.
He frowned, his jaw tightening as he reached for his wardrobe. Dressing for the day felt almost tedious, but appearances mattered. As a prince, he couldn't afford to appear disheveled, not even in the privacy of his own castle.
