Chapter 891 - 891: Major Scandal

The Crown Prince still believed he held the clearer view of the board. Julian now knew one of the tools in his hand, and more importantly, he knew that tool had a teacher behind it. A mentor strong enough to hand out methods that touched the soul itself.

That was no ordinary palace instructor.

And if such a figure stood close to the Crown Prince, then the trail toward the Servant of Death had just grown clearer.

**

Finally, they reached the quarters prepared for the royal guests.

The Duke first showed the King to his chambers, then escorted the Crown Prince to the rooms set aside for him. Both men entered their abode and shut their doors behind them. The corridor settled into a thinner silence after that, broken only by the soft movement of attendants withdrawing to their posts.

Then the Queen Mother dismissed Julian.

"I have something to discuss with the Duke," she said. "You may go."

Julian bowed at once. "Yes, Your Highness."

He left the corridor as ordered.

Only for a minute.

Once he had turned the corner and put enough distance, he wrapped his presence in mana and slipped back the way he had come. The concealment was clean and enough to blur him from ordinary attention.

When he returned to the corridor where he had left them, the Queen Mother and the Duke were already gone.

Julian stopped.

He closed his eyes and spread his senses carefully through the surrounding halls.

At first he found nothing. Then he caught them: two familiar presence in a secluded corner/room of the guest wing.

He followed the path.

The room he found was small and plainly elegant. It was the sort of private sitting space meant for short conversations and barely anyone came here.

A narrow table stood near the wall. Two chairs had been drawn close to it. The Queen Mother sat in one with complete ease and The Duke sat opposite her, his expression far less comfortable.

Julian remained outside the partial cover of the doorway.

"You seem to be doing fine," the Queen Mother said. "It has been ages since we last met, has it not?"

The Duke nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."

She raised a brow.

"Stop with that 'Your Highness' act. It is getting irritating."

A complex expression crossed the Duke's face. He hesitated before answering.

"But you are visiting here as the Queen Mother. How can I refer to you as anything else?"

The Queen Mother chuckled.

"Look at you, acting so polished and formal. I would have thought you were a completely different person if I had not come here to see for myself."

The Duke lowered his eyes.

She continued, her voice milder now, but no less precise.

"I still remember the days when you used to follow me everywhere—"

"Your Highness," the Duke cut in quickly, "let us not talk about that here. Someone might hear."

The Queen Mother rolled her eyes.

"Let them. Or are you embarrassed now that you have a family?"

The Duke said nothing. His silence was answer enough.

Then the Queen Mother's tone sharpened, still quiet, but edged with something dangerous.

"Do they know," she asked, "that you once convinced the Queen Mother to sleep with you? That you committed treason by taking the "then" queen to bed while the king still lived?"

Julian's eyes widened in shock.

For a moment the hidden corridor seemed to lose all sound except those words.

The meaning of them settled slowly, then heavily, with the force of something that could rewrite the foundation of House Astran if it ever left that room. The Duke, the composed ruler of a great duchy, the man whose loyalty the present King had praised, had once crossed into the bed of the former queen.

Julian stayed perfectly still.

Inside the room, the Duke's face had gone pale. His hands tightened against the edge of the table, and when he finally spoke, his voice was lower than before.

"That was a lifetime ago."

"It was still treason," the Queen Mother replied. "A pretty lifetime does not clean the crime."

"I was young."

"So was I," she said. "Young enough to know better, and still foolish enough to let a determined boy from Astran talk his way into places he had no right to enter." Her mouth curved without warmth. "You were persistent. I remember that much clearly."

The Duke's jaw flexed. "If you came here to reopen that wound, Your Highness, then say so plainly."

"I came here because the present is built on the past," she answered. "And because men who rise high enough often pretend the ladder they climbed never leaned against forbidden walls."

Silence stretched between them.

Julian could hear the controlled strain in his father's breathing even from outside. Whatever history bound these two was not the mild recollection of old court acquaintances. It was intimate, dangerous, and still sharp enough to cut.

The Queen Mother leaned back slightly in her chair, studying him.

"Does Olivia know?"

The Duke's answer came at once. "No."

"Vanessa?"

"No."

"Your son?"

"No one," he said. "And it will remain that way."

The Queen Mother smiled faintly. "That depends on how useful silence continues to be."

Julian's mind raced behind his calm exterior. This was no minor scandal. Sleeping with the reigning queen while the old king still lived was not merely immoral by noble standards. It was a blade that could destroy legitimacy, inheritance, and political standing in a single stroke. And the woman sitting across from the Duke was not a powerless relic.

She was the Queen Mother.

Inside the room, the Duke finally lifted his eyes.

"What do you want?" he asked.

The Queen Mother regarded him for a long moment.

Then she asked, almost lightly, "How many times do you think you courted me?"

The Duke remained silent.

The lamp on the table threw a narrow pool of gold across the polished wood, catching the edge of his sleeve and the white line of her hair. Outside the doorway, Julian did not move. He barely breathed. The question itself was dangerous enough. The answer would be worse.

At last the Duke spoke.

"Maybe five times."

The Queen Mother chuckled.

"Hmm. Five times. That is a lot, is it not?"