[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega
Chapter 172: Correction

Chapter 172: Chapter 172: Correction

Trevor straightened his frame, the casual slouch rolling off his shoulders like a discarded coat. His expression cooled by degrees, his posture sharpening until there was no trace of the affectionate husband who had just waved off his elegantly kidnapped spouse; only the Grand Duke remained.

He watched the black sedan disappear down the winding road, followed closely by three shadowing vehicles like silent wolves. A parade disguised as a private outing.

"I should thank Grandma that she was so fast in taking Lucas with her," he said at last, voice quiet, measured.

Windstone, falling into step beside him, gave a small nod. "Well, she likes him... a lot. I think she nearly flew her own jet just to get here in time."

Trevor’s mouth curled faintly, not a smile, but close. "She only flies when it’s personal."

"And this is," Windstone confirmed. "Deeply."

Trevor hummed, already shifting gears as they entered the manor again through the east wing, where the light was colder and the staff knew to clear the hall. "Good. Now let’s see what we can do about Jason Moon."

Windstone unlocked his tablet mid-stride. "He entered Palatine three days ago. Disguised. Train manifest shows him under the name ’Andrew Moore.’ Paperwork’s clean, but too clean; it seems like he didn’t contact Christian Velloran nor the clergy until now."

Trevor’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Not contacting Christian is a choice. Not contacting the clergy is strategy. He chose his allies."

Windstone nodded, swiping through a second set of files. "There’s a flagged border entry from the Denzari checkpoint. He came through the east route, not the north, and avoided all the major watch posts."

"Which means he didn’t want his presence known to anyone with direct ties to the Palace," Trevor muttered, his tone cooling further.

Windstone placed the tablet on the central table, projecting the guesthouse layout. "He rented the top floor. Cash deposit. No calls made. No deliveries, except a single package yesterday from a courier service known for discretion. Contents unknown."

Trevor leaned over the map, fingertips resting lightly on the edge. "Any connection to Misty Kilmer?"

"No direct evidence," Windstone said, "but he’s orbiting the same circles. And his travel pattern aligns with a known dissident route used by two of her ex-associates, both of whom vanished after Lucas became Grand Duchess."

Trevor exhaled slowly through his nose. "He’s circling for something. Maybe leverage. Maybe contact. Maybe Lucas."

Windstone gave a slow, grim nod. "Or someone sent him to test the waters before they make a real move." View the correct content at NovelFire

Trevor didn’t speak for a moment. Then: "Put a second team on him. No contact unless he breaches the inner ring or attempts to leave Palatine."

"Special force or external?"

"Special force. If he’s half as trained as I think he is, he’ll spot anything else and put the second plan in action."

Windstone’s fingers hovered for half a second above the tablet, but his expression didn’t change.

"Yes, Your Grace," he said calmly, already shifting the command to encrypted lines. "Special force it is. Shadow deployment in under six hours. The decoy will begin the circuit tonight: high visibility, minimal conversation, heavy press presence."

Trevor nodded once. "No interviews. No physical proximity. We want eyes, not access."

"And the real one?" Windstone asked, eyes flicking toward the west wing.

Trevor’s jaw tensed, just enough to show he was still holding back the part of him that wanted to burn the city before Lucas’s next brunch was over.

"My Lucas stays with Cressida. Guarded, pampered, adored. Until I clear the path."

Windstone input the final line of code, then glanced up. "And Christian Velloran?"

"The Emperor gave me permission to deal with him, but we both know that doesn’t mean kill. Let him find his way to Fitzgeralt territory, and then we can dispose of him."

Windstone nodded once, the flicker of approval barely visible in his otherwise unreadable expression. "Understood. I’ll update the border patrols and prepare the cover narrative."

"No military movement," Trevor added, sharply. "Not yet. Let him think the Empire is still tolerating him. We’ll be patient. One foot past the line, and he’s mine."

He moved back to the center of the room, gaze drawn to the glowing map where the territories of Palatine bled west into Fitzgeralt land. "Caelan wants plausible deniability. He won’t mourn the outcome, but he doesn’t want a headline either."

Windstone’s voice was perfectly neutral. "And Lucas? Do you plan to tell him?"

Trevor’s hand tightened slightly on the back of the chair. "He doesn’t need to know. Not until the body is cold and buried so deep even the clergy forgets where."

Windstone tapped twice, locking the new kill order under a red seal. "Do you want a clean disposal or symbolic?"

"Clean, leave the symbolism for clergy, oh, and Windstone... Read the memories Lucas has from his past life and sent them to Dax and Serathine."

Windstone stilled for half a second, just long enough for the gravity of the order to register. Then, as always, he resumed with practiced precision.

"Yes, Your Grace," he said, tapping a new series of encrypted commands into the tablet. "They’ll receive a curated set within the hour. How much do you want them to see?"

Trevor’s gaze stayed on the glowing screen before him, but his tone turned colder. "Enough to understand why I’m not giving Christian a second chance and why the clergy seems to be the first suspect. I want them down with Velloran. I won’t be surprised if they are working together."

Windstone’s fingers paused mid-command, hovering over the screen. "King Dax barely needs a motive to start a war with the clergy, and Serathine would rage after reading the memories of what happened when she wasn’t there to save Lucas."

"I won’t be the only one mad, then."

Windstone nodded slowly. "The memories are unverifiable, but the way they align with the sealed clergy records is... damning."

Trevor sat at the desk and powered on the station with practiced moves. "That’s why it’s important for Lucas to be busy with socializing and wedding preparations. The more public he, or his double, is, the better. They can’t touch him on my territory, but god knows what the priests are planning. Their intel is almost unbreakable."

Windstone’s expression darkened, the flickering light of the screen casting sharp shadows along his jaw. "Their entire upper echelon vanished from every public itinerary last week. Travel logs were wiped. Donations rerouted through shell accounts. If they’re planning something, they’re already five steps in."

Trevor tapped in his credentials, the screen blooming to life with rotating dossiers—Jason Moon, Christian Velloran, and half a dozen clergy names that had long since stopped appearing in public records. "Then we keep Lucas where they can’t reach him. Cressida will smother him in velvet and public attention, and the decoy can handle the rest."

Windstone flicked through the clerical data cache. "We intercepted two messages routed through a monastery near the northern border. Both coded and heavily encrypted. One referenced ’the reborn vessel,’ the other mentioned divine correction."

Trevor’s fingers stilled over the keys.

"Correction?" he echoed, voice low. "I will correct their existence from the face of Earth."