The air in the safe room felt heavy as King Henry paced, fury etched on his face.
The room was dimly lit, the shadows from the candles flickering against the stone walls, mirroring the rage building within him.
A young guard, trembling and wide-eyed, stood in front of him, bracing for the king's reaction.
"What do you mean the queen's crown has been stolen?" The king's voice was sharp and cold.
He slapped the guard without hesitation, his hand striking hard against the young man's cheek.
The guard stumbled but stayed silent, bowing his head in shame.
"Where were you all?" King Henry demanded, voice rising, echoing through the room.
"How could someone invade my palace, steal something as precious as the queen's crown, and leave one of their own behind?"
Arthur, seated nearby, clenched his fists, a look of shared frustration in his eyes.
The crown wasn't just an artifact. It symbolized his late mother, a memory deeply cherished by both him and his father.
To have it stolen was a personal assault, an open wound.
Catching his son's gaze, the king could see Arthur's anger matched his own.
"Bring the thief to me, now," the king commanded, his voice low yet fierce.
With that order, the evening's ball was abruptly canceled.
The grand hall buzzed with murmurs of confusion as the guests were escorted out, whispers of scandal and intrigue filling the corridors as they departed.
In the throne room, a chilling silence hung in the air.
King Henry, Queen Consort Camille, Crown Prince Arthur, Second Prince Alexander, and Princess Elena sat in their seats, each of them solemnly awaiting the thief's arrival.
The throne room, grand and intimidating, was guarded by towering statues and adorned with tapestries telling tales of the kingdom's legacy.
The large wooden doors creaked open, revealing the accused thief—Lani, led in by the palace guards.
Her face was pale, her posture stooped, a limp in her step as she moved forward.
Fear had drained the color from her cheeks, and beads of sweat dotted her forehead.
She felt her knees grow weak, her heart racing as her eyes scanned the room before settling on the king's cold, unsparing gaze.
"On your knees!" one of the guards barked.
Without a moment's hesitation, the head guard kicked her legs, sending her sprawling onto the stone floor.
She quickly pulled herself up, kneeling with her head lowered, hands trembling in her lap.
King Henry rose from his throne, his imposing figure casting a shadow over Lani as he descended the steps.
Each step he took echoed in the vast room, heightening the dread building in her chest.
"Where is the crown?" His voice was cold, filled with venom that could easily wither any soul before him.
Lani's lips quivered as she looked down. "Your Highness, I swear… I don't know," she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper.
The king's brows furrowed in anger. "I'll ask you again, and I expect an answer this time," he growled, his voice booming across the chamber. "Where is the crown?"
Lani shook her head, desperation clear in her eyes. "Your Highness, I don't know."
King Henry's gaze hardened as he stepped back, his decision made. "Very well," he said, a note of finality in his tone. "Since you refuse to speak… throw her in the dungeon."
Arthur's face turned pale, horror spreading across his features.
The dungeon wasn't just a place of confinement; it was a dark, damp pit crawling with vile creatures.
No one survived long in its depths.
Rising to his feet, he called out, "Father!"
All eyes turned to Arthur, a mixture of curiosity and astonishment as the king paused, his gaze shifting to his son.
"Father," Arthur began, trying to keep his voice steady, "I don't think she's lying."
The king's eyes narrowed, suspicion in his stare. "What are you suggesting? That she knows nothing of the crown's whereabouts?"
Arthur swallowed, his eyes locking onto his father's. "The guards reported that her partner abandoned her, taking the crown and fleeing. She couldn't possibly know where it is if she was left behind."
Just then, a group of guards entered, dragging in two others who had been part of the ambush against Lani and Maverick.
They dropped to their knees, visibly shaken as they faced the king.
Henry's anger flared as he looked down at them. "So, you're the fools who let the thief escape?" His voice was low, laced with contempt.
"Yes, Your Majesty," one of the guards replied, bowing his head in shame.
Arthur's mind raced, piecing together the details of the theft.
A realization dawned on him, and a new suspicion rose within him.
He turned to face the guards. "You said you were inside the royal memorial room, waiting for the two thieves?"
"Yes, Your Highness," the guard confirmed.
King Henry turned to Arthur, his eyes sharp with curiosity. "What are you saying, Arthur?"
Arthur's gaze grew intense, his mind working swiftly. "They were inside the memorial room. That means… they knew the late queen's crown was the target."
A murmur rippled through the room.
The king's face contorted with fury, the implications settling in.
"Are you telling me you knew that someone planned to steal the queen's crown?" he asked, his voice now ice-cold, seething with anger.
The guards, still on their knees, began to plead, their voices choked with panic as they begged the king for mercy.
Arthur's eyes shifted to his brother, Alexander, whose face had gone pale as realization seemed to dawn on him as well.
Beads of sweat formed on Alexander's forehead, his breaths quickening as he cast furtive glances around the room.
Beside him, Elena leaned in, her voice low with concern. "Alex, are you all right?"
Alexander tried to respond, but his voice faltered, stammering. "I… I'm fine," he managed, though his wide eyes betrayed him.
Arthur turned to face the two guards,his expression both accusing and probing.
He needed answers, even if they came at a cost. "Tell me, how did you know they were planning to steal the queen's crown?" he demanded, his voice piercing through the room.
Silence fell over the chamber, each word hanging in the air like a noose tightening around Alexander's neck.
One of the kneeling guards, glancing nervously at the king, spoke up, his voice trembling. "It was His Highness, the second prince… who informed us."
A collective gasp echoed through the room as all eyes turned to Alexander, who looked as if he had been struck.
His face drained of color, and his hands trembled as he let out a shaky breath, tears gathering in his eyes.
"It's… it's over for me," he whispered, barely audible.
King Henry's jaw clenched, a storm brewing in his eyes. "Alexander," he said, his tone low and dangerous, "what is the meaning of this?"