"What do you mean?" Daemon asked.

"I have seen you overcome the most unthinkable challenges, Marton. And I could only name two or three others who could have maintained control as long as you did. However, I fear that things may soon change for you. This time, they are determined to stop you."

The Count sighed in annoyance. "I thought so."

"Who are you talking about?" Xylla asked.

"The Unnamed. They have ruled this country from behind the scenes for centuries. They consider themselves protectors of tradition, but in reality they are just a bunch of reactionary fanatics clinging to the cassocks of the priests. I have had to deal with them since before I occupied this office. So I assume you are part of the Order."

"More than that. I'm on the Grand Council."

This time Marton couldn't help but look surprised: "Well, damn it."

"And that's nothing. Many members of your government have come into contact with the Order in recent months. Some have slipped away, but others are now firmly under their orders. And they're preparing to deal you a blow from which you won't be able to recover."

"What kind of blow?"

Corwen hesitated as if in shame: "They intend to prevent the presentation of Her Highness."

To which the Count shrugged: "As if I didn't know."

Daemon interjected: "Now I'm really beginning to understand. That's why you wanted me to come. Who better to discourage coups than the one who defeated the Empire and the Union?"

"In fact, your arrival here caught them off guard. Montesol didn't expect you to make such a brazen and provocative move."

"Wait! Did you say, Montesol!?"

"Yes, the Count of Montesol. Or should I say, the Grand Master of the Unnamed."

If Marton had been simply surprised before, this time he was completely speechless.

"From your face I gather you didn't have the slightest suspicion."

"How could I? But when..."

"When did he take office? Two years ago, shortly after his brother's death and his promotion to the rank. He wasn't even among the possible candidates for succession, but his rhetoric and determination amazed everyone. And besides, the Grand Council thought that having their Grand Master side by side with you was the best way to sabotage you at the right time."

"I have indeed suspected for some time that one of my most loyal followers was an Unnamed, but I certainly didn't expect it to be him. Who else is on the Grand Council?"

"From your government? Tesillo, Armist, and Urdon. Then Watford, Countess Arendelle, and most of the opposition."

"Roda?"

"Not him. Too honest and respectful of form to get involved in such things."

"I don't understand," Daemon said. "If you're so entrenched in Connelly's politics, why have you allowed the Count to become so powerful?"

"Because at first his policies did not displease the Order. Things changed when he started with the autocracy and the brawls with the Circle. Besides, the war cost more than expected, and there is nothing a noble hates more than having his coffers tampered with."

"And instead kill him?"

"Someone surely proposed it." the Count replied almost amused. "But the Martons has family ties with the Royal family. And unfortunately for them, they believe too much in all that nonsense about the sanctity of royal blood. And so their belief has backfired."

"You said they want to prevent His Highness from being appointed. How exactly do they intend to do that?"

"At first they intended to let you get to the vote of the Council of Nobles, only to have you fail to get the necessary votes at the last moment. But your decision to summon Mister Haselworth here has had the desired effect. Many members have backed out, others are hesitant. However, I fear they will not stop, and I'm afraid that they may end up involving Her Highness in their plans."

Marton had an outburst of anger: "Have they perhaps gone mad? As long as they point theis schemes against me I accept it, but I will never tolerate them lifting a finger against the Princess!"

"That's why I came here. My house has belonged to the Order since the time of my great-grandfather. But Montesol and the other young followers have distorted the ideals I have believed in all my life, and they are ready to do anything to pursue their goals. I have never liked you much, Marton, and I am not entirely sure that your intentions are noble. But like you, I do not tolerate the royal family being involved in all this. And if I have to betray the order to respect the last wishes of His Majesty, so be it. It's a price I'm willing to pay."

"Why just betray them? I say we should stop them."

The way Daemon had said those words would have frightened even the most cynical and seasoned of executioners.

"It is not you who have betrayed the Order, Duke. The Order has betrayed itself. Unlike you and the other older adepts, who believed and still believe genuinely in what the Unnamed represent, these new adepts use patriotism and traditions as an excuse to mask their personal ambition. If they have reached the point where they are willing to endanger the Princess, then they have reached the lowest point of shame. They must be stopped, or their actions will end up endangering Connelly as well. The same Connelly that the old followers I'm sure were ready to die for."

"And how exactly do you plan to stop them?" Marton asked.

"You said they want to sabotage the succession. How do you think they want to do that?"

"I have heard of a plan to kidnap the Princess, but nothing more than that. Montesol, like the Count, is extremely scrupulous, and always avoids revealing too much about what he has in mind."

"If I had to guess, I would say that their original plan was actually to politically weaken Marton to the point where the appointment of the Princess would be impossible or highly unlikely. Then they would kidnap Her Highness and disappear her, probably taking her under a false name to some other country. Then they would accuse the Count of trying to create a government in exile, ending his political career and even having the pretext to have him executed. Well, I say... let them do it."

All three onlookers were shocked.

"Should we allow them to harm Her Highness?"

"I don't think they want to harm her. As I said, she is just a tool to harm you. Besides, she is of royal blood, even if only half, so they can't touch her. The problem is that if they are so well entrenched in the upper echelons of Connelly, I fear that the Duke's word alone would not be enough to accuse them. Conversely, if they were to commit such an act of high treason, not even all the allies and political weight they have could save them."

Aside from the fact that it was about endangering the Connelly heir to the throne, the plan was also unworkable in the eyes of both Marton and the Duke in another respect.

"The Duke just said that your presence here has dissuaded many from carrying out the plan."

"And that's the main problem. They've given up for now, but they'll clearly try again in the future. And on the other hand, I can't stay here forever. We have to solve the problem now."

"How?" asked the Duke. "If Montesol doesn't give the order to act while you're here, we're at a dead end."

"That's because everyone knows that as long as I stay here, the Count is untouchable. I could pretend to leave and stay in Hadowald in secret, but since the Order will surely have a lot of informants and agents, they could find out. But what if things were to change? What if the Prime Minister suddenly found himself in such a compromising situation that even those outside the order were to abandon him, creating the perfect conditions for his political downfall?"

One of the most common and at the same time effective weapons of politics.

"They intend to accuse me of planning a coup. Why shouldn't we help them make it more credible? For example, those cannons that you brought here as a gift for Her Majesty... come on don't make that face. You think you're the only one with spies all over the continent? As I was saying, why don't you say that I actually bought them? Given all the trouble Connelly's going through right now, a normal person wouldn't have a hard time understanding why they'd buy them, but it's also the perfect excuse for the order to push some undecided noble toward them."

"Marton, you're not really thinking of moving forward with this, are you?"

"We can no longer allow those fanatics to steer Connelly's fortunes however and whenever they want. The Order was once a guarantor of the prosperity of this country, but now it's just a cancer that must be eradicated. And you obviously think so too, otherwise I don't think you'd be here."

"But to put Her Majesty in danger..."

"She won't be in danger," Daemon said. "We'll make sure nothing happens to her. As I said, your testimony may not be enough to convict them. Their treachery must be incontrovertible."

Which led to another important point.

"You said ther's need for a trigger event. Something that will push Montesol to carry out their plan while you're still here. The cannon deal would certainly make some noise, but I fear it wouldn't have such a devastating impact. Do you have something in mind?"

Daemon smiled wickedly. "Yes, I have an idea. A murder."

"A murder!?"

"Yes. Possibly someone whose death would make such a noise that it would immediately put you in a difficult position. For example, one of the leaders of your opponents."

The way Daemon looked at the Duke would have frightened anyone.

"You must be joking I hope!" Marton exclaimed. "You can't seriously think of—"

"You're dying, aren't you? You've realized that by now, and that's the main reason you came here."

"How do you know!?" the Duke said, astonished. "I have never-"

"Believe it or not, I know very well the illness you suffer from. It began slowly, insidiously. Simple stomach problems and indigestion. Then the pain began. Ever stronger. At first, one medicine a day was enough to keep them at bay, now you have to take whole boxes to even find some relief. The worst thing, however, is what you feel at night; the pain is so bad that you have to bite the pillow so they don't hear you scream. You no longer sleep, nor eat. Your body is rotting from the inside, and you can barely call yourself alive. You know your time is running out, but you cannot leave knowing that the Order is preparing to strike at the heart of the royal family. So you have decided to pass your mission to the Count, since he is the only one who can ensure that the old Prince's last wishes are respected."

Corwen lowered his eyes, smiling as if a weight had finally been lifted from his heart: "I thought this disease only affected the elderly."

"I knew someone who suffered from this. His last days were terrible. At one point he wanted nothing more than to end it all. He only held on so everyone would see that he hadn't given up. You can do something even greater. With your sacrifice, you can save Connelly."

The Count poured his guest another glass of liquor, offering it as if to a dear friend: "I promise you, Theobald. I will make sure it is not in vain."

The Duke accepted the glass, mixing his own tears with the liquor as he drank: "So be it. So? Who will end my suffering and give new hope to my country?"

Xylla, who had been a mere spectator all this time, instinctively took a step forward: "My Lord. If it's okay with you, I would like to volunteer."

"You, Xylla? Why?"

"Well... I have met the Princess. She seems like a very good person. Except for you and Lady Montgomery, I don't know anyone more worthy and deserving of sitting on a throne. I... I don't want anything bad to happen to her."

"Master Daemon," said the Duke. "I agree. After all, a gentleman is never denied the chance to choose his own executioner. Right?"

Daemon took a moment to think. "If this is your decision and Xylla's, I accept it. Besides, her involvement in your death would put us in a difficult position as well, creating even more favorable conditions for our plan to succeed."

"I hate to ruin your hopes, but there's a problem," Marton said at that point. "Montesol is one of the most astute politicians I've ever seen. I know it well, since I was his mentor. And he's learned my secrets all too well, so much so that all this time I've never had even the slightest suspicion about him. Besides, we now know that he certainly has many informants here in the palace. As skilled as I am at masking my emotions, I fear that in the end our plan could still be discovered."

"I may have the answer," Daemon said, taking a small jewelry box with an unmistakable magical trinket out of his vest pocket.

"That's..." the Duke said

"The Command Stone entrusted to me by the Governor. I always carry it with me in case of need."

"And how could this evil device be of any use to us?" Marton asked.

"I have spent a long time studying the Servant Stones, and I have discovered new ways to use the magic that is the basis of the bind."

"You have created new spells!?" Corwen exclaimed. "You amaze me more and more every day."

"It's simpler than it sounds. The important thing is that one of these can do the trick. I call it the Veil of Oblivion. In short, I can use the bind to induce amnesia in anyone with a Servant Stone I want. The spell can be activated immediately or upon completion of a certain action, and removed with equal ease."

"So you can make me forget that I killed the Duke?"

"Of course I can't go back too far. At best, I can block out any memory of the last twelve hours."

"Which means we must act now," the Duke said as if it were a small matter. "Otherwise the young lady might still remember this meeting. What do you think, Count?"

Marton was silent for a moment, then opened a drawer in his desk and took out an old Servant Stone. "Can you do the same thing on an old model like this?"

"Maybe, if I have another Command Stone."

"That won't be a problem. We've salvaged a lot of these things from smugglers and slavers. It won't be a problem to find one or two of them."

"What exactly do you have in mind?"

"Better not to take any chances. The fewer people who know about this, the better. Then, with the Duke dead, only you will know what is happening. This should also help us expose the traitors."

"The decision is yours," Daemon replied, raising his hands. "But I am flattered by your trust in me. I will make sure it is well earned."

"I hope so. Otherwise, the Duke will have plenty of company on his journey to the next life."

Daemon smiled. "There's only one thing left to do now. The Duke will need to give a full account of everything we've said here. It will be essential to dealing the final blow to Montesol and his allies."

"I'm ready. Give me a pen and paper."

"I was actually thinking of something better," the boy said, taking out his Eye of Gaia. "I did some research on these too. Did you know that you can transfer images and sounds into them to store them indefinitely?"



Hearing those words had left all the occupants of the room so incredulous that no one, not even the many involved in the Duke's words, had bothered to try to find a way to silence his voice before he had concluded his testimony.

If a moment before Montesol was the light to which everyone looked for hope, now instead the looks that most of the guests turned to him were of a completely different kind.

After all, no one liked to be tricked and taken for a ride like that, least of all a nobleman.

"That's the one lesson you never learned, my boy," Marton said as he descended the elegant staircase. "Never take your victory too much for granted, for you never know which way the wind will turn."