Chapter 71: I Do Not Trust The Other Council Members
"I agree," Aldrich said calmly. "But we must also be careful. Revealing that we know about the mole before we have identified them gives the guilty party a chance to cover their tracks, to destroy evidence, perhaps even to accelerate whatever plan they are working toward."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"That we move carefully. That we hold a council meeting, ostensibly to discuss the incident in the training grounds and the implications for the realm. But that we also use that meeting as an opportunity to identify the mole."
Cedric stopped his pacing. "How?"
"By providing different information to different council members and seeing which stories circulate afterward. By noting which houses make unexpected moves based on what only certain members would know. By watching and listening carefully to every word spoken and every gesture made."
"A trap," Cedric said.
"Precisely."
"It will take time to set it properly."
"Yes. I would suggest waiting two days. That gives us time to prepare, to gather our thoughts, to position people where they need to be to observe and listen."
Cedric moved back to his desk and sat. "Two days. And in those two days, we need to also consider our response to both crises. The kings’ instability, and the girl."
"Which are likely connected," Aldrich noted.
"Possibly. Probably." Cedric leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled before him. "If the girl is as significant as Greaves suggests, if her origins are as mysterious and her nature as dangerous, then she might also be the key to understanding what is happening to the kings."
"Or she might be a complication we do not need," Aldrich countered. "We must not assume correlation means causation."
"No," Cedric agreed. "We must simply observe and gather information."
They were silent for a long moment, the weight of knowledge and responsibility settling over them like a cloak.
Finally, Cedric spoke.
"I do not trust the other council members, Aldrich. Not completely. Not if one of them is working against us."
"Nor should you," Aldrich said simply. "That is the nature of treason, it teaches us that trust is a luxury we can ill afford."
"Then what do we do?"
"We do what we have always done," Aldrich said, standing with difficulty and moving toward the window. He looked out at the night, at the stars beyond the glass. "We hold the line. We protect the realm. We move carefully, and we trust only those we have reason to trust."
"And who can we trust?" Cedric asked quietly.
Aldrich was silent for a long moment, staring out at the darkness beyond the window.
"That," he said finally, "is the question we must answer."
***
Over the next hour, Cedric and Aldrich discussed strategy.
They spoke of how to handle the council meeting, how to frame the discussions, how to present information in a way that would encourage the guilty party to reveal themselves. They discussed the implications of the girl’s mysterious nature, her possible connection to the kings, her presence in the palace.
They spoke of precautions, how to ensure that sensitive information was protected, how to watch for unusual movements or communications between council members and noble houses, how to gather evidence without revealing their investigation.
It was careful, meticulous work, the kind of political maneuvering that kept kingdoms stable and prevented chaos from consuming the realm.
By the time they had finished their discussion, the wine cups were empty and the fire in the hearth had begun to burn lower.
"I will send out summons tomorrow," Cedric said. "For a council meeting in two days. I will frame it as a response to the incident in the training grounds, and a discussion of the current state of the realm."
"Prudent," Aldrich agreed. "And I will continue my investigation into the mole. I may have more information by the time of the meeting."
"Be careful," Cedric warned. "If the guilty party suspects they are being investigated..."
"I have been careful for three weeks," Aldrich interrupted gently. "I do not intend to become careless now."
Cedric walked Aldrich to the door of his study. At the threshold, the elder paused.
"There is something else," Aldrich said. "Something you should consider."
"What?"
"The girl. This Morgana. If she is connected to the kings, if she matters to them, then she will also matter to whoever is behind the conspiracy. She could be used as leverage. Or she could be in danger from those who do not want her existence known."
"I had considered that," Cedric said grimly. "It is one reason I am inclined to keep her in the palace, under observation."
"See that she is protected," Aldrich said. "Not because we know who she is, but because we do not know. And in times like these, the unknown is always dangerous."
With that, Aldrich descended the stairs of Cedric’s estate and returned to his waiting carriage. The journey back to his own estate took place in silence, the night pressing close around the vehicle as it rolled through the darkened streets of the capital.
***
After Aldrich had departed, Cedric returned to his study and stood before his desk for a long moment, looking at the various documents and letters that represented the current crises facing the realm.
The transformation incident. Greaves’s report on the girl. The knowledge of the mole within the council. All of it converging, creating a situation of immense complexity and danger.
He picked up Greaves’s letter and read it one final time.
"Subject is not what she appears. Origins unknown. Magical capability confirmed. True parentage uncertain."
"She’s not entirely human. But we don’t know what she IS."
Outside his window, the capital slept, unaware that somewhere in the palace, in the minds of its leaders, wheels were turning. Plans were being made. The machinery of power was grinding into motion in response to crises that most of the realm did not yet understand.
Cedric moved to the fire and carefully fed Greaves’s letter into the flames, watching as the parchment caught and burned, the words disappearing into ash.
It was dangerous to keep written evidence of such sensitive matters. Better that it be destroyed, the information committed only to memory and the careful plans that he and Aldrich had begun to construct.
As the letter burned, Cedric allowed himself a moment of deep weariness.
The burden of knowledge was heavy. The weight of responsibility was crushing.
And the suspicion that someone in the council, someone he had worked with, perhaps for years....was a traitor, cut deeper than almost any wound.
"Two days," he murmured to himself, watching the flames consume the last of Greaves’s letter.
He turned from the fire and moved back to his desk, pulling out fresh parchment and beginning to draft the summons for the council meeting.