Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)
Chapter 147 - 142: A butler’s scorn (1)

Chapter 147: Chapter 142: A butler’s scorn (1)

The warmth of the palace struck Gabriel like a phantom, familiar but never quite welcome. He was aware that everyone in the same wing of the palace as him was watching his every move, and smoking in public was a deliberate choice. For the first time, he felt something in common with his former self, which gave him a strong sense of déjà vu.

’I was a menace.’ He thought, smirking.

Max walked beside him, posture relaxed, hands tucked in his coat pockets. "Elliot’s probably pacing in front of a mirror right now, rehearsing his next tantrum."

Gabriel didn’t respond. The halls were too quiet, and he was too aware that everyone around him pretended to be civil while carrying knives behind their backs.

"Still clinging to George’s last name like it carries any weight," Max went on. "The poor bastard hasn’t realized he’s ornamental now. A Count by courtesy and nothing else."

"You don’t sound very sympathetic," Gabriel murmured.

Max grinned. "I’m not. He wanted my position. George gave it to me. End of play."

Down the corridor, the doors opened with a stern clap, echoing down the polished marble like a warning shot.

Gabriel and Max stepped in just in time to catch the tail end of a voice that could freeze fire.

"If anyone in the East Wing believes I will tolerate this level of incompetence again," Edward said, calm and glacial, "they are free to collect their things and apply to a lesser household. I hear the House of Vellencourt accepts drooling cretins without complaint."

A servant stood rigid before him, knuckles white around a tray that bore what remained of a shattered teacup and a ribbon of blood where porcelain had bitten into his hand. Not that Edward seemed concerned with the injury.

Gabriel’s steps slowed.

"Should we turn around?" Max whispered, leaning slightly toward him. "Edward’s in rare form. This might be one of his top five flayings."

Gabriel looked at the tray, then at the servant, who was barely old enough to wear a uniform. The boy had wide, terrified eyes and pale lips.

Max continued quietly, "That is the third tray today, I heard. All destined for the Empress Wing. First one had cutlery missing. Second, the wrong tea blend. This one appeared to have blood."

Edward turned like a blade unsheathed. The look he gave Max could have cut stone.

Max raised both hands in mock surrender. "Don’t look at me, Edward. I come bearing no crimes, only charm."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Then charm your way down another hall. "I do not have time or patience for Claymore dramatics today."

Max smirked and leaned close to Gabriel. "This is where I pretend I have pressing business elsewhere and leave you to the lion."

"Coward," Gabriel murmured, amusement curling in his voice.

"Survivor," Max corrected, already backing away. "Enjoy."

Gabriel’s brow twitched.

"You don’t get to leave now. I need witnesses. Edward’s voice stopped Max from leaving, and the man did not appear pleased. "Maybe you could explain to the boy why poison does not have to be dramatic to kill."

The servant’s face went sheet-white, his hands visibly shaking with fear.

Max’s smile vanished. "Edward."

"Oh, don’t ’Edward’ me, Lord Maximilian. You know how the palace works. Accidents are rarely just accidents."

Gabriel folded his arms, his voice quiet but firm. "What was in the cup?"

"Larkroot," Edward replied immediately. "Just enough to cause a dizzy spell, maybe a fainting episode. Or worse, if you already have medication in your system."

Max swore softly. He should have left earlier with George; Elliot was easier to deal with than a scornful butler.

Gabriel did not move, but something flickered behind his eyes: thought, calculation, weight.

"It wasn’t meant to kill," he said. "Just to disorient. Embarrass." He sighed; everyone was aware of today’s meeting, which was official and public; it would have been disastrous if Gabriel had not slept in Damian’s chambers.

"Precisely," Edward bit out. "Whoever did this wanted you unbalanced. Weak. A spectacle. On the day you left Claymore to be the Empress-in-waiting." His gaze turned to the servant again. "And yet this one insists he followed the instructions exactly."

"I—I did!" the boy stammered," "The leaves came labeled! I just—"

Gabriel stepped closer, studying him. "Did you prepare it yourself?"

The boy shook his head. "No, sir. It was left on the kitchen line, already steeped. I just... brought it up."

Edward’s jaw tightened.

Max exhaled slowly. "They’ve started already."

"Of course they have," Edward snapped. "The moment he stepped into the light, they began hunting shadows. And now someone is testing the perimeter. Today’s cup is harmless. What’s next? A coat with weakened seams on palace steps? A bath drawn too hot? A charm gone subtly wrong?"

Gabriel let the silence stretch a moment.

Then, coolly: "Have the entire tea service rotated. Quietly. And interview every kitchen hand who touched anything labeled for the East Wing."

"Already underway," Edward said, eyes sharp. "I will not allow this palace to turn into a breeding ground for vipers."

Max turned to Gabriel. "You need to watch yourself. This isn’t just about you. It’s about him choosing you."

Gabriel didn’t flinch. "Let them watch."

Max stared at him a second longer, then gave a slow nod. "Alright, then."

Formality restored, Edward bowed his head, but the quiet rage was still in his voice.

"Master Gabriel, you are no longer a guest. You wear his mark. You walk the halls carrying his scent. That makes you a symbol. And a target. Act like it."

Gabriel met his gaze. He didn’t say anything; he had hoped at leat they would give him the time to be officially announced, but no.

The two men locked eyes a second longer, something unspoken settling between them like dust from an old war reigniting.

Then Edward gestured briskly to a footman.

"Escort Master Gabriel to his proper chambers. Ensure every item within is inspected. Twice."

The boy bowed. "Yes, Steward."

Edward turned again, robes flaring like stormclouds. "And send a message to the Empress’ Guard. Tonight, they will resume full duty."

Gabriel arched a brow. "I wasn’t aware they’d been disbanded."

Edward smiled thinly. "They hadn’t. They were simply waiting for the Empress to finally arrive."