Chapter 155: The Perfect Crime

’She deployed a gravitational anomaly from miles away. The sleep-draught wore off early. Or her core metabolized it. She knows I left her. She knows I lied.’

As the imposing, towering black walls of the Obsidian Gate finally loomed into view, Kaelus felt a cold sweat break out across his pale brow.

He was the Reaper.

He had stared down archdemons.

He had walked through emerald infernos and glacial abysses without blinking.

But as he urged his horse through the courtyard gates, tossing the reins to a terrified stable boy without slowing his stride, Kaelus felt genuine nausea twisting in his gut.

’What will she do?’ Kaelus practically sprinted up the grand staircases of the fortress, his heavy boots echoing like cannon fire. ’She will scream. She will cry. She will demand to know why I abandoned her. She will accuse me of breaking the blood oath. She will tell me I am a liar.’

He reached the upper landing, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps, not from physical exertion, but from pure fatherly panic.

He began mentally drafting his defense.

’I will just explain the reality to her,’ Kaelus plotted frantically. ’I will explain that the beast possessed a magical-reflection carapace. I will tell her the casualty rate was projected to be catastrophic. I will fall to my knees. I will beg for her forgiveness if that’s what I need to do. I will offer to let her stab my arm with the balsa-wood sword. I will buy her an actual, living dolphin.’

He turned the final corner, arriving at the heavy oak doors of their private suite.

He stopped.

He placed his black-gloved hands flat against the thick wood, leaning his forehead against the door, taking one long, shuddering breath to brace his soul for the impending hurricane.

He expected to hear the sound of things smashing. He expected to hear her sobbing behind the wood, open the door and be met with a barrage of thrown pillows, wooden blocks, and furious, high-pitched shrieks of betrayal.

Kaelus slowly, silently turned the brass handle. He pushed the door open, wincing as the hinges groaned softly, and stepped into the room.

The suite was completely, perfectly silent.

The fire in the hearth had died down to a faint, glowing red hum. The plush, ash-bear rug was undisturbed. The toys were exactly where she had left them.

Kaelus crept forward, moving with the silent, phantom-like grace of a master assassin, his violet eyes frantically scanning the darkness.

He approached the massive, four-poster bed.

He held his breath, leaning over the edge of the mattress, preparing to face her wrath.

But there was no wrath.

Lying in the exact center of the bed, buried beneath the heavy silk duvet, wearing her cloud-patterned nightgown, was Seraphina.

She was fast asleep.

Her chest rose and fell in a slow, deep, incredibly peaceful rhythm.

Her dark hair was splayed across the silk pillow. Her face was relaxed, completely devoid of anger, fear, or exhaustion.

A tiny, soft snore escaped her lips, sounding exactly like a contented kitten.

Kaelus froze.

He stared at the sleeping child, his brain completely failing to process the contradiction.

’She... she is asleep,’ Kaelus thought, his frantic, racing heart suddenly stumbling to a halt. ’The draught worked? But... but the gravity magic in the forest... the beast...’

He leaned closer, his highly trained magical senses scanning her aura. Her Dark Core was dormant, humming with a quiet, satisfied, resting energy. There was no sign of magical output or any traces of the exhausting, physical toll that astral projection usually demanded.

Kaelus slowly stood up straight, dragging a trembling hand through his messy raven hair.

A wave of pure relief crashed over him, buckling his knees so intensely he had to grip the bedpost for support.

’She was asleep the whole time,’ Kaelus realized, a hysterical, breathless chuckle escaping his lips. ’I am an idiot. The gravity magic in the forest wasn’t her conscious intervention. It must have been a subconscious defense mechanism triggered by her core sensing my distress! She didn’t wake up! She doesn’t know I left her!’

The logic was flawed, built on desperate wishful thinking, but Kaelus clung to it like a drowning man to a life raft.

He had gotten away with it.

The perfect crime.

He had neutralized the threat, saved the Valen Duchy, and managed to preserve his daughter’s innocence without enduring a single second of her wrath.

He was a tactical genius. A master of paternal stealth!

"Thank the Light," Kaelus whispered into the dark room, his shoulders dropping three inches as the tension finally bled out of his muscles.

He gently, meticulously reached out and adjusted the silk blanket, ensuring it was tucked perfectly under her chin. He lingered for a moment, pressing a feather-light kiss to the top of her head, overwhelmed with love for the tiny, oblivious Sovereign.

He turned away, moving toward his own adjoining chamber to strip off his stained armor and finally get some sleep.

From the shadows near the window, the invisible, translucent form of Bartholomew the ghost butler watched the Archduke walk away.

Bartholomew shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, his pale blue eyes filled with tragic pity.

’He actually believes he is safe,’ Bartholomew thought, watching Kaelus close the door with a soft, satisfied click. ’He believes he has secured victory. Oh, you sweet, naive fool. You have merely survived the skirmish. The true war begins at dawn.’

***

The morning sun over the Obsidian Gate was surprisingly pleasant, filtering through the high arched windows of the grand dining hall, casting long, golden beams across the massive, polished mahogany breakfast table.

The atmosphere in the hall was boisterous, cheerful, and filled with the clatter of silverware and the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh-baked bread.

Archduke Leonidas Valen, his chest heavily wrapped in thick, white, alchemically soaked bandages beneath his loose crimson silk shirt, was currently eating his way through a literal mountain of roasted sausages.