CHAPTER 168: PROTECT THE CROWN

[Lavinia’s POV—Dawnspire Wing—Lavinia’s Chamber]

"Princess... Are you alright in there?"

Ravick’s voice floated through the door, deep and steady as always.

I nearly tripped over my own leg in panic, fumbling with the wardrobe latch before yanking it open. I plastered on the most dazzling royal smile I could manage.

"Sorry! I was... uh... occupied. With something."

Ravick stared at me, then his eyes narrowed slightly as they swept over my chamber, scanning every corner like a hawk.

"His Majesty requests your presence in his office, Princess."

"Yes, of course," I said quickly, stepping aside so he wouldn’t be tempted to wander in. "I’ll just change and come back soon."

He gave a curt nod. "I will wait outside—"

"That’s not necessary, Ravick," I interrupted, waving a hand. "Papa might need you, so you can go. I’ll be there soon."

. . .

. . .

Ravick squinted at me, folded his arms across his chest, and said slowly, "Princess... Are you hiding something?"

Damn it!

My laugh came out a little too high-pitched. "Hiding? Ha-ha-ha... what could I possibly be hiding? Except food. Which I absolutely do not have under my bed right now. Or anywhere else. Nope."

He stared for a beat longer, long enough for the back of my neck to start sweating like a monsoon in Nigeria. I can’t lie to my people—not when they can read me like a book with missing pages.

Finally, he sighed. "Alright. But come soon... before His Majesty decides to come get you himself."

"Yes, yes. Bye-bye!" I chirped, pushing the door closed a bit too quickly.

SLAM!

I leaned back against it and exhaled so loudly I might have alarmed the guards down the hall.

That’s when I realized, in all those palace romance novels, when the heroine hides the love interest in a wardrobe, it’s described as exciting, daring, and romantic. No one tells you about the part where your heart tries to launch itself into orbit every time someone knocks.

"Is he gone?"

The wardrobe door creaked open just enough for Rey’s face to appear—annoyingly gorgeous even after being squashed between my gowns and my winter cloaks.

And because the universe clearly hates me, his smirk was positively glowing.

I plopped onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh, pressing my fingers to my temple. "Hiding a man is a very risky thing to do, you know."

Rey didn’t even flinch. He simply sauntered over and dropped himself beside me, lounging like he owned the place.

"Well... I enjoyed it," he said, as if I’d just given him a holiday.

I shot him a look. "Don’t you think you’re a little too comfortable for someone who just risked his life climbing into a princess’s wardrobe?"

He reached over, plucked a piece of fruit from the table, and bit into it lazily. "Am I?"

I wanted to smack that smug expression off his face. "You’re insufferable," I muttered, waving my hand impatiently. "Alright, tell me what you’ve got."

Finally—business. Or so I thought. He reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope, holding it out with a faint flourish.

"This is all I’ve got for now."

I took it, already bracing myself for some news. But the moment I opened it, my entire body froze.

"What in the hell is this?" I asked, staring at him like he’d just handed me a napkin.

He crunched into his apple again, unfazed. "I told you—this is all I got."

I reached inside and pulled out... a single sheet of paper. I held it up between two fingers. "Just one page? This is it?"

He nodded without shame. "Yes. Her history was so clean and short, for a second I thought she was a saint."

. . .

. . .

I blinked at him, dumbfounded. "I have clearly hired the wrong man for this job."

That, apparently, hit a nerve. He straightened, his brows drawing together. "How can you... That’s all I got in the time you gave me. You think it’s easy to dig up information about someone who’s clearly hiding their past? I had one week, Princess. One."

"Some people," I said sweetly, "get information in two days."

He let out a sharp breath and plopped on the sofa, pouting, clearly offended now. "Some people don’t appreciate how much work goes into digging up a ghost. Anyway, I’ve got my people keeping an eye on her—"

Then, without warning, his voice dropped into something colder. "But there is something I was informed of while they were tracking her."

That caught my attention. "What is it?"

"There was something rotten being delivered to Count Talvan’s mansion."

My brows knit. "Rotten?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes. But the strange part is... no one in the Talvan estate seemed to notice. Or smell it."

I sighed, rubbing my temple again. "Just... look into it more."

"Of course," he said. Then his gaze sharpened with curiosity. "But tell me—why are you so interested in her?"

I stood and replied coldly. "That’s none of your business. Just do what you’re told."

He pressed a hand to his chest in mock pain. "Wow... so cold."

Ignoring him, I walked towards my wardrobe—only to hear him flop onto the couch like he owned the place.

"I’ll just make myself comfortable—"

CLANG!

The blade in my hand gleamed under the sunlight as I smiled sweetly. "Would you like to walk out, or should I personally throw you over the balcony?"

He shot to his feet, hands raised in surrender. "Alright, alright—no need to choose violence, Princess. I value my life. And my face."

And as he stepped out onto the balcony, he pulled his robe over his head, muttering under his breath, "She’s exactly as cruel as the rumors say..."

Then, with all the flair of a man used to dramatic exits, he vaulted over the railing and disappeared.

"I should go before Papa personally comes to get me," I muttered, letting out a sigh.

***

[Osric’s POV—Everheart Mansion—Afternoon]

A hidden emperor of Irethene.

The moment I discovered that the man His Majesty executed was only a substitute, everything shifted. If the real emperor—the one who ordered Lavinia’s poisoning—is still alive, then his people are already here.

Hidden. Waiting.

Maybe scattered through Elarion’s cities, and maybe... inside the Imperial Palace itself.

"Osric."

Grandfather’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. He strode toward me with that deceptively warm smile he always wore, the kind that could disarm an enemy... or unsettle me entirely.

"How are you doing?" he asked lightly.

I stared at Grandpa and returned the smile. "You see me every day, Grandpa."

"Yes," he chuckled, "but I still feel... My grandson has been far away since he took the oath."

His words made me pause. I forced another smile. "I’m fine. Really."

He studied me for a moment, as though searching for cracks in my words, before sighing and glancing toward the tall windows.

"There’s much stirring in Elarion right now. More than we see."

I nodded. "I agree."

"But," he said slowly, "somehow, I feel something large is moving in the shadows. Something deliberate. Something dark. And when it happens..."

I finished for him quietly, "It will happen to the Princess."

Grandfather’s lips curved—not in amusement, but in approval. "You’ve grown, Osric."

I smiled back, "Thank you, Grandpa."

Then his voice hardened. "And I hope you also know what that means."

"I have to protect her," I said without hesitation.

He stepped closer, resting a heavy, calloused hand on my shoulder. "That’s right. And when it comes to the Princess—trust no one. Not even me."

The words struck deeper than I wanted to admit. "Not even you...?"

He nodded. "Yes. You cannot trust anyone while protecting the crown, Osric, not even your close ones. There are many who will claim to protect her, and she herself is growing sharper and stronger. But the true danger... will come after her coming-of-age ceremony."

A faint chill ran down my spine. "Because she’ll be mingling with nobles and heirs soon," I murmured.

"Exactly," Grandfather said. "She’ll attend their gatherings. Smile at their games. Walk into their halls. And in those places, Osric... a single blink, a single heartbeat of carelessness, and you could lose her."

I flinched and clenched my fist; the weight of his words pressed against my chest.

"Being Crown Princess is not easy," he continued, his voice now like steel under velvet. "And being her protector is harder. You’re not just guarding a girl—you’re guarding the Crown itself. Fail, and the kingdom falls with her."

"So, you cannot take any risk when it comes to her."

Then his grip on my shoulder tightened. "And I believe—no, I know—there’s no one better than you to bear that weight."

I nodded once, firmly. "I will make sure the princess is safe, Grandpa."

Grandfather finally smiled again, softer this time. "Good. Now go—your princess will be waiting."

He turned and walked away, his footsteps fading until the hall fell silent.

I remained where I stood, eyes drifting to the window, the world outside painted in gold by the afternoon sun. My voice was barely a whisper. "This is why... I tried to protect her from them in my last life."

My fingers curled into a tight fist, nails digging into my palm. "But it seems... they’re trying to repeat the same sins in this one."

I began walking down the long hallway, the shadows stretching like claws toward me. My words were low, dangerous, and meant only for the empty air.

"But I won’t let them succeed this time. I won’t let anyone steal her fate... ever again."