“You shouldn't be here,” Leoman said. His voice sliced through Gabriel's reverie, jolting him back to the present. He had been focused, counting the marble tiles within the throne room. Seeking distraction from his nerves. Though familiar with the room from previous visits, he had never stood amongst the other noblemen as he did now.

“Hello, dear brother,” Gabriel said as he plastered a fake smile on his face, then turning to Artus, “Nice to see you too.”

Artus sneered in response, “Why are you here?”

“The king invited me. If you have issues with it, you can talk to him,” Gabriel replied.

Both Leoman and Artus raised their eyebrows simultaneously before their sneers returned. Without saying another word, they walked away, welcomed by a crowd of eager nobles. As much as he sometimes wished he wasn’t so ostracized, he also understood these nobles were merely seeking favor from them. In comparison, his circle of friends, although smaller, felt genuine. It was something his brothers could never understand.

Deep down, he knew the king didn't invite him out of respect or appreciation for his abilities. There was something more to his decision.

As Gabriel surveyed the room, he noticed the other nobles were giving him curious looks, undoubtedly trying to discern why the least favorite prince was present at court.

Lord Carnahy entered through the front doors, exuding regal confidence as he engaged with the nobles. Though known as a warrior, he possessed remarkable astuteness, speaking with fairness and, when necessary, ruthlessness. When Lord Carnahy caught sight of Gabriel from across the room, a small smile played on his lips as he nodded in acknowledgment.

Gabriel identified three distinct groups of nobles. Lord Carnahy was surrounded by older noblemen renowned for their martial prowess. Gabriel's brothers had gathered another group, consisting mostly of the sons of nobles and younger lords and dukes. The final collective of noblemen encircled Lord Loftus. Taller and wider than the rest, he emanated strength as he conversed with the members of his group. His peculiar assembly comprised both warriors and merchants, evident from their distinct attire.

Before long, the king made his entrance through the throne room doors, which were used exclusively by him. He walked stiffly, paying no attention to the gathering nobles. He seated himself on his golden throne, gripping the scepter that rested against it. He forcefully struck the scepter thrice against the marble floor, sending echoes throughout the room. The entire assembly fell silent.

“Today's court will be different. I won't be listening to your squabbles; instead, I bring news,” the king said. “I have invited Prince Gabriel for his first court attendance.”

Hushed whispers permeated the room. Gabriel had positioned himself on the outskirts of the room, desiring to remain inconspicuous. As the mass of nobles turned to catch a glimpse of him, their reactions ranged from curiosity to confusion.

Although the king had his own intentions, Gabriel nodded in acknowledgment. “He has been invited here because he assisted the kingdom in a task I entrusted him with.”

It wasn't the least bit true, but the king needs to claim the credit.

“You see, some noblemen, including some present here today, have been neglecting their tax obligations. Lord Loftus, for one,” the king announced. Lord Loftus shot Gabriel a scowl, and the nobles surrounding him gradually distanced themselves, avoiding association.

“What is the meaning of this? We all know the reasons I can't pay. I can't control the weather,” Lord Loftus retorted.

“Silence,” the king bellowed. “You were not addressed, Loftus.”

Regaining his composure, the king continued, “The prince looked into your excuses, and what he found—along with the information my spies gathered—was deeply disturbing.”

Lord Loftus’s anger transformed into panic. Pointing at Gabriel, he exclaimed, “You take the word of this weakling coward? He recoils at the sight of his own blood! I will not be accused by a child.”

Some of the nobles scoffed or laughed, adding to Gabriel's shame. He wondered why the king was putting all of this on him; his words antagonized Gabriel in front of the entire court. He realized he would find no friends among these nobles—not even Lord Carnahy, who looked at him with disappointment.

This served the interests of the king perfectly. He wielded fear like a weapon, striking terror into the hearts of the nobles. They tried to hide their panic, but the worry that the king might uncover their own secrets unnerved them deeply. Gabriel, however, understood that his involvement was being overestimated. I was just lucky to piece the information together, anyone could have accomplished the same with the information I was provided.

“He may be useless as a warrior, but he saw through your deceit. He is cunning. I would watch out around him,” the king said.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The feeling of being recognized in front of the aristocracy felt good. Even though he knew the king was merely showcasing his skills to strengthen his own position of rule.

He detailed the discoveries Gabriel—and the king’s spies, whoever they were—had made. presenting the coincidences and exposing the lies, but Gabriel could see that many in the court were still skeptical.

Lord Loftus said, “This is nonsense. You don't have any evidence. You're using this as an excuse to seize my lands.”

“I already have proof, and I'll be gathering more,” the king declared, unyielding.

He then turned to Leoman and Artus, instructing them, “You will lead a war band of investigators to find the evidence. Ensure no one impedes the investigation.”

In all of Gabriel's contemplation and planning, there was one outcome he had never considered, one scenario that had never crossed his mind: the king dispatching a war band. He stood rooted the spot, chilling shivers traversing down his spine. He had hoped for a diplomatic resolution, or at least a less aggressive approach, but the king's decision caught him completely off guard. He found himself grappling with the shock and uncertainty of what was to come.

War bands were sent only for the most dire and violent of purposes. Countless deaths followed in their wake, leaving devastation and sorrow in their path. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on Gabriel's young shoulders, realizing that his actions might have set off a chain of events that could lead to more bloodshed and suffering. He had never intended for things to escalate this far. What have I done?

He recalled reading the court rulings from previous similar matters; their nobility was revoked, their property seized by the king, and they were left destitute. There were a variety of harsh punishments, but they were always just. This was different.

Artus and Leoman displayed feral glee at the king's command. Their eyes shone with hunger, and Gabriel could tell this would not be a diplomatic endeavor; blood would be shed.

The brothers had a notorious history of causing havoc and cruelty. During the witch hunt, grim rumours had circulated about their investigations— whispers of innocents being interrogated and tortured mercilessly until they succumbed to the violent methods they inflicted. The death of a few commoners was below their notice, and their disregard for the lives of others sent a shiver down Gabriel’s spine.

Gabriel didn't trust his brothers' judgment. He wondered why his father was entrusting such a crucial and delicate task to them. Didn't the king know the potential consequences of their actions? Gabriel felt an overwhelming urge to speak up, to plead with his father to reconsider the decision, but fear rendered his voice silent. He became a helpless bystander, forced to witness his father's brutality.

“Loftus, you will not leave this castle until the conclusion of this investigation,” the king decreed.

Lord Loftus stood, spluttering in disbelief, “You can’t do this!”

“I already have.”

The king looked at two of his honor guards and nodded subtly. The tension in the room was tangible, the only sound in the room were the guard’s footsteps.

Lord Carnahy stepped forward, breaking the silence with a firm yet respectful demeanor. “With your permission, my king, I would like to raise a point.”

Lord Loftus regarded him, his features intertwining hope with fear.

“Speak,” the king said, allowing Lord Carnahy the floor.

“My king, I bear no fondness for Lord Loftus, as you are aware. However, he is right. The evidence presented today is circumstantial. We must investigate these claims thoroughly, but I believe sending a full-fledged war band might not be the best solution. Instead, let us dispatch a small entourage of skilled soldiers to guard the investigators. With their support, the truth will be revealed, and justice can be served.”

“Lord Carnahy, you are a noble ally, but do not seek to instruct me again. I am your king, and a war band will root out this treachery.”

Lord Carnahy nodded, understanding that opposing the king's will was not an option.

He knew changing the king's decision would be near impossible, but maybe there was a way to prevent further harm. I have to act.

Willing his voice not to quiver, Gabriel spoke up. “My king, as the one who assisted in uncovering this conspiracy, I ask that you grant me the honor of joining the investigation team. I will prove my worth.”

The king considered him. Lord Carnahy looked hopefully towards the king. “No,” the king boomed, “you will stay here and ferret out other traitors; that is your role in this court moving forward.” The nobles shifted nervously, eyes darting to each other. It seemed unreasonable to worry about a boy not yet thirteen summers old.

Gabriel's mind raced, desperately searching for a solution. There had to be a way to prevent the impending tragedy. Finally, he arrived at an answer. If I do this, I will be disgraced for the rest of my days.

“I made it all up!” yelled Gabriel frantically, seeking an escape from the fate that awaited the kingdom.

The king's eyes hardened, ready to respond, but Gabriel intervened, determined to save lives. “None of what I said is true. It was just petty revenge against Loftus's son, Rufus, who bullies me in the training yard. My lords, I am deeply sorry for the lies I have spread,” Gabriel confessed, hoping someone could aid him.

“Idiot child, do you not think the court knows that you abhor violence? You are lying now, and all can see it plainly written on your face. You speak in defense of someone you called a traitor. What does that make you? You dare lie to this court! You will be punished.” The malice in the King’s eyes sent fear coursing through Gabriel’s body.

Frantically looking around, Gabriel's eyes met Lord Carnahy's, who slumped his shoulders and bowed his head in defeat.

“Guards, take Loftus away,” the king ordered, sealing Loftus's fate.

Gabriel couldn't bear to let this be the end. “Lord Loftus, I beg of you, confess! Please don't let innocent people get hurt because of your crimes,” he screeched, desperate for the truth to come out.

Lord Loftus merely stared at him. “I am guilty of nothing.” He said it so convincingly that Gabriel wasn’t sure what the truth was anymore. What if this was just my imagination? What if I caused people to get hurt based on a falsehood?

As Loftus was escorted out of the room, his crazed eyes were fixed on Gabriel, promising a reckoning. Gabriel hung his head, overwhelmed with guilt. He had caused this. The weight of the impending tragedy ate at him.

“I am not done with you,” The king bellowed, his words ringing louder than the scepter.

Gabriel's legs went weak; the only time the king had looked at him like this before was when he had slapped him. He feared public humiliation again. Please, not again.

The king turned to his guard, saying, “Bring me the whip.”