The great hall of the royal court lay in disarray. Voices rose in fervent argument; the nobles amassed there moved apart by accusation and defense. And at the center of the storm, Lord Marlowe stood tall, face stone and unyielding.
Damien didn't blink, his gray metal eyes locked on Marlowe. The facts were bleak enough but in this hall, what a man knew was not enough. Politics, collaboration, self-interest muddied things.
Marlowe lifted his hand, silencing the room gradually as he spoke in a calm tone yet full of commanding authority.
"My lords and ladies, I stand here accused of treason by a man with a questionable past and an affinity for chaos," Marlowe declared, his cool, piercing eyes shooting across to Damien. "I claim my right of answer to such malicious charges."
"Baseless?" Lady Erynn injected, her silver hair catching the light as she stepped forward. "These documents, bearing your seal, are hardly baseless, Lord Marlowe. Explain them."
Marlowe's lips curled into a faint smile. "Documents can be forged, Lady Erynn. And as I understand it, Lord Damien has a history of unconventional tactics. Is it so hard to believe that he would go so far as such?" murmured Marlowe.
A ripple of murmurs spread through the courtroom, doubt creeping into some of the faces watching.
Damien's jaw flexed. He took a step closer, talking without pause but yielding no quarter. "You can call me crap-brained all you want, Marlowe, but you can't talk your way out of the facts in those documents. They detail names, dates, and places," he said. "Only someone who knew him intimately could be that aware."
Marlowe laughed, his head shaken in gesture. "I commend you, I will say that much. But if I were truly guilty of such deception, don't you think that I would be so brazenly foolish as to leave a paper trail for you to follow? "
It was silent once again as the nobles weighed his words. Damien felt the sharp edge of their scrutiny, the doubts within their gazes.
Lady Erynn narrowed her gaze. "If these documents are forgeries, as you claim, then you won't mind if we examine your personal ledgers to confirm it. Certainly a loyal servant of the crown has nothing to hide."
For an instant, a smile broke over Marlowe's lips but was smoothed back into position. "No complaint," he said quietly. "But I must know that I'm innocent before my privacy is crudely invaded by ransacking my home."
"You will delay this process until it's too late to matter," Damien snapped, his voice ugly. "That's the way of Elyas—to stall, to mislead, and to let the kingdom devour itself."
But calm wasn't Marlowe; the flames of anger flashed in his eyes. "You compare me to that snake? I served this realm faithfully all these years! What boasting do you, Lord Damien, except that you seed destruction wherever you step?"
---
Amara couldn't sit still anymore sitting at the side of the room. She rose to her feet and her voice cut into the heavy tension of the silence.
"You are right about one thing, Marlowe," she said, her smirk cutting like a blade. "Damien's left a trail of destruction-of every rebel stronghold, mercenary group, and noble alliance Elyas has put together. Maybe you're afraid your name's going to join the list."
Marlowe sneered. "And who are you to speak here, a rogue hiding behind a false lord?"
"A woman who recognises a liar when she sees one," Amara sneered, her voice dripping with venom.
The assembly erupted into mutterings once more this time in shock and amusement among the nobles.
---
Lady Erynn raised her hand to silence the room. She fixed an icy stare on Marlowe. "You haven't done anything to disprove these accusations, Lord Marlowe. If you have no proof of your innocence, we will carry out a full inquiry."
Marlowe's face turned black. "You go too far, Lady Erynn. This is no more than a ruse to weaken my position in this court. You continue along this farce of a road you'll find me in no humor for it."
"Consider your decisions well, Marlowe," Damien sneered softly and painfully. "Comply or prove yourself a charlatan."
The stalemate dragged on what must have been hours, the weight of the court's judgment settling in the room. At last, one of the king's advisors, an older man with a serious look, stood up.
"Enough," he said, his voice stern. "Lord Marlowe, you will allow your ledgers to be audited. If you are innocent, you shall be cleared. If not."
Alright," Marlowe said, his jaw tightening as he nodded. "I have nothing to hide."
Later that night, Damien, Amara and Carys met in the safe house to review their plan. The confrontation with Marlowe had been a small victory, but certainly not enough.
"He is only stalling," Carys said, pacing the room. "Even if they find evidence in his ledgers, it will take some time to prepare an official response. Time Elyas will use to clean up after himself."
Damien nodded. We can't count on the court to take action. "We have to keep pushing forward."
Amara leaned back in her chair, spinning a dagger between her fingers. "What's the next target?"
Damien spread out the city map and pointed to a place not very far from the palace. "Elyas's spies have used this safe house as coordination. If we can take it out, we cripple his ability to gather intelligence."
"That sounds like a pretty high-risk plan," Carys said.
"Yes, it is," Damien admitted. "But it's a risk we have to take."
The safe house was nondescript little building, modestly unobtrusive behind the façade of palace walls. Little to look at it from the outside, Damien knew better.
Under the cover of darkness, it was the three who approached the safe house once Damien motioned for them to halt. "Guards at the front," he whispered, "two of them. Amara?".
She slid across the courtyard like a shadow, daggers glinting faintly in moonlight. In an instant, she'd dropped the guards, their throats slit, silencing them before they could raise a bell.
"Clear," she breathed, waving them forward.
Inside, activity buzzed at the safe house. Spies moved between rooms, exchanging coded messages and reviewing maps spread out across the tables.
Damien, Amara, and Carys slipped inside, silent as spirits in the narrow halls, working fast to take out the spies one by one.
When they entered the great hall, Damien's eyes locked onto a face that he knew.
"Gregor," he said harshly.
The man standing at the end of the room froze, his eyes growing wide with recognition. "Damien," Gregor said, his voice filled with fear. "I didn't think—"
You thought I would not find you? " Damien finished, walking forward. "You've been playing for Elyas this entire time."
Gregor threw his hands in the air. His voice grew to a pleading note, desperation clinging to every word. "It's not what you think. He made me. I didn't have a choice."
There's always a choice. "Damien said, and his tone dripped with venom. "You just made the wrong one."
Amara stepped beside Damien with her daggers on point. "Do we need him alive?"
A time then, and Damien narrowed his steel gray eyes at her, "You're going to tell us everything you know about Elyas's plans. If you lie or if you hold anything back..."
Gregor swallowed hard. "I'll talk. I swear."
--
It tortured but worked; Gregor spilled important information about Elyas organizing an assassination plot directed towards important members of the royal court to the torturers.
Damien's jaw was tight while uploading the data. "He tries to stir the court even more. If we don't stop this, he's going to consolidate his power before we will ever have a chance to expose him."
"Then we stop it," Amara said, her voice firm.
"End it now," she said as he nodded, his determination hardening in him. "It's been too long Elyas controlled everything, time for us to take the war to him.
As the first light of dawn crawled over the city, Damien knew this would be the most dangerous war ever fought. But for the first time, he felt the tide turning.
Elyas's web strands cracked, and Damien intended to smash them.