Chapter 290: Rid yourself of me
William’s arms throbbed with exhaustion after fanning August for hours. Across the room, August lounged comfortably in his chair, his boots propped up carelessly atop the polished wooden table.
"Your Highness, night has already fallen. I doubt any of them remain within the district at this hour," William ventured, lowering the fan slightly.
"Your assistant has not returned either," August replied coolly. He shifted his gaze toward Samir, who sat quietly in a nearby chair. "Tell me... Why does it feel as though they are all scrambling to scrub away the evidence of their true crimes?" A sharp, wicked grin spread across his face.
"Not at all, Your Highness," William insisted, shaking his head with a slight tremor in his voice.
"Fret not. I shall simply send you to the guillotine if anything goes awry," August pronounced in an intimidating tone.
William’s eyes widened in fear and shock. He realized then that August had not come here for amusement. What he could not fathom, however, was why the prince was taking such a keen interest in a case from two years ago.
"Why have you slowed down? Move the fan faster, William," August commanded.
"Ye-yes, Your Highness," William stammered, frantically quickening his pace.
"Your Highness, forgive my delay," the assistant finally interjected, stepping into the room with his head bowed low. "They... They have arrived on your orders."
A wave of relief washed over William at the news, but it was short-lived. August lowered his legs from the desk, snatched the fan out of William’s hand, and turned a cold, menacing gaze upon him.
"You did well enough," August said, his voice dripping with implicit threat. "Now, stand over there and do not utter a single word unless spoken to. My patience is wearing thin, and I will not hesitate to have your tongue cut out if you dare intervene. Trust me when I say I fear no one, not even my father. Do not attempt any clever tricks to rid yourself of me." With a dismissive shove, he sent the District Magistrate stumbling backward.
Five tall men, all in their mid-twenties, filed into the room. "Magistrate William, we heard that the prince—"
The man leading the group abruptly cut himself off, his words catching in his throat as his eyes landed on August.
"Your Highness, please accept our humble greetings," he stammered, bowing low. The four men behind him hastily followed suit.
August looked at them coldly before turning to his guards. "Arrest all five of them and throw them into the prison. They are not to be released until morning, and only on my command."
The order left all five men frozen, their jaws dropped in shock.
"Your Highness, on what grounds could you issue such an order? The charges must be formally presented before an arrest can be made," the man on the far right protested, stepping forward.
"I have been appointed as the chief investigating authority over all unresolved matters within this territory," August declared, his voice rising with an authority. "The case in question was shuttered under circumstances that I find deeply suspicious. His Majesty has granted me discretion to conduct this inquiry as I see fit, and my decisions shall not be questioned. I am here to deliver justice to those who have transgressed." He signaled the waiting guards, who immediately surged forward.
Iron shackles were snapped onto the wrists of all five men. As they were dragged toward the door, one of them turned and shouted desperately at William, begging him to intervene.
But the District Magistrate stood rooted to the spot, silent and pale, not daring to utter a single word under August’s lethal gaze.
The five men were dragged away toward the holding cells within the magistrate’s compound, their protests echoing down the stone corridor.
"William, ensure the victim’s family is summoned here first thing in the morning," August instructed coldly without looking back. "Do not attempt to be clever with me." With that, he strode out of the hall, Samir following closely at his heels.
Left alone in the quiet room, William collapsed heavily into a chair, his heart thundering against his ribs in sheer panic. "If the prince uncovers the truth... What will become of me?" he muttered under his breath, staring blankly at the floor in terrified anxiety.
~~~~~
"Your Highness, you could have conducted this investigation far more discreetly," Samir remarked as they settled into the carriage, calling out to the coachman to drive them toward a nearby inn.
"Discretion will yield nothing," August replied, his eyes dark with conviction. "The girl is dead, destroyed by those monsters. I have no doubt her family spends every waking day cursing us for failing to bring them justice. A quiet inquiry will only allow the corruption to burrow deeper. No, let the uproar spread across this entire district. Only when the people see that the tide has turned will the true witnesses dare to speak, and only then can those men be brought to a brutal, fitting end."
Samir smiled, nodding in quiet realization. "Your Highness, ever since your first victory, you have changed remarkably. Why this sudden shift? I thought your sole ambition was to tear down the royal family for... for everything they put you through."
"I wanted to destroy the Queen, Samir. And she has met her end," August replied softly, looking out into the passing darkness. "Meeting Eilika changed things for me. And that slap..."
He trailed off, the memory resurfacing with startling clarity.
He recalled the overwhelming bitterness that had once consumed him. It was so deep he had been prepared to ruin anyone connected to Liliana, innocent or guilty.
But the moment Eilika’s hand had struck his face, the blind rage had shattered. It had forced him to look in the mirror, to question his choices, and to confront the dark path he was walking.
"The Duchess of Varos is indeed fierce," Samir agreed, a quiet note of respect in his voice. "I still recall the day she confronted you demanding the antidote. She speaks her mind plainly, without stooping to deceit or manipulation."
"Yes," August murmured thoughtfully. "She does."
The carriage ground to a halt before a lively, well-lit rest house. As a guard pulled the carriage door open, Samir stepped out first to clear the way, with August following close behind into the night air.
Stepping inside, Samir approached the reception desk to request two private rooms. August glanced casually around the bustling lobby, his gaze drifting toward the front counter, only to freeze when he recognized the woman from the day before.
"Sir, that will be fifty sheels for the night," Xenia said, looking up from her ledger. The moment her eyes met August’s, her voice caught in her throat. Recognizing the prince instantly, she lowered her head and bowed deeply.
Unfazed, Samir retrieved the required sum from his coin pouch and placed the money upon the wooden counter. Xenia silently gathered the coins, carefully counting them before handing Samir a pair of brass keys.
"Thank you," Samir said, turning back toward August, only to find the prince glaring intently at Xenia.
Xenia felt the heavy weight of his gaze burning into her, but she kept her eyes fixed firmly on the wooden counter until August finally turned and walked away with Samir.
Only then did Xenia slowly lift her head, releasing a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. "What is Prince August doing here?" she whispered to herself, placing a hand over her racing heart. "I thought he was going to strike me down on the spot. His eyes... he has the most lethal gaze of any man I’ve ever seen."
Her chest was still pounding when her brother’s voice called out from behind the counter, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Xenia! Go inquire about the evening meal for rooms thirty-one and thirty-two!"
"Coming, Brother!" Xenia called back automatically, momentarily forgetting which guests had just been assigned those chambers.
Reaching room thirty-one, she knocked politely on the dark oak door and waited. A moment later, the door swung open to reveal August standing in the doorway.
"I wanted to ask—" Xenia began, but the polite customer-service smile instantly vanished from her face. "Y-your Highness," she stammered, hurriedly lowering her gaze to his boots. "I... I wished to inquire if you have any special preferences for your meal tonight."
"Should you not offer an apology first?" August asked, his voice low and deliberate.
"I did... and I beg your forgiveness again, Your Highness. I truly meant no disturbance to your rest. Please pardon my foolish mistake," Xenia pleaded, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on the floor.
"I have no special preferences. Simply send a bottle of wine upstairs," August replied. Then, leaning slightly against the doorframe, he added, "Tell me... Why is a young lady assigned to visit the guest rooms of male guests?"
"My brother is occupied with other duties," Xenia answered, momentarily raising her eyes to meet his intense gaze. "I shall have our finest wine sent up to you at once."
Without waiting for his response, she turned on her heel and swiftly made her retreat down the hallway.