My Bratty Wife
Chapter 207 - Two Hundred And Seven

Chapter 207: Chapter Two Hundred And Seven

The wheels of the polished black carriage crunched softly on the gravel path leading to the Royal Palace. Inside, Lord Evan stared out the window, his face calm and thoughtful. The early morning sun cast long shadows across the manicured palace grounds. Beside him, Brook sat stiffly, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He glanced occasionally at his master, a mixture of loyalty and slight nervousness in his eyes.

"Are you certain about this, My Lord?" Brook asked quietly, breaking the silence. "The Grand Duke is a powerful man. Accusing him..."

Evan turned his gaze from the window, a cool confidence in his eyes. "Power is relative, Brook. And today, information, or rather, the presentation of information, holds more power than his title." He adjusted the cuff of his immaculate jacket. "Everything proceeds as planned. Trust the process."

The carriage slowed and came to a smooth stop before the grand palace entrance. Dressed footmen hurried to open the doors. Brook exited first, turning to bowed to Evan. Evan stepped down, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He surveyed the imposing facade of the palace, the familiar stone seeming colder today. Guards in gleaming armor stood watch, their faces impassive.

Brook leaned in slightly. "They will announce us, My Lord."

Evan nodded. "Let them."

(Rewind to a few minutes earlier, in the study of Evan’s residence)

Evan stood before the desk, examining a small stack of letters bound with a simple ribbon. Brook stood nearby, holding a small wooden box.

"Is everything ready?" Evan asked, his voice low and steady. He picked up the top letter, turning it over in his hands. The paper was thick, expensive-looking parchment. A deep red wax seal, bearing the crest of the Duchy of Ryan, was pressed firmly onto the back.

"Yes, My Lord," Brook confirmed. He opened the wooden box, revealing several more identical seals and a stick of red wax. "The duplicates are ready should they be needed. The handwriting was carefully copied, as you instructed. Every loop, every dot, every stroke matches the Duke’s known correspondence."

Evan nodded, satisfied. He tapped the letters on the desk. "Good. The content is subtle enough. No direct confessions, of course. Just enough implication, enough suggestion to plant the seed of doubt and let it grow into certainty in the King’s mind."

Brook hesitated, then spoke, his respect clear but tinged with curiosity. "If I may ask, My Lord... why this approach? Directly accusing the Grand Duke carries immense risk. There must be another way to achieve your goals."

A small, knowing smile touched Evan’s lips. He looked directly at Brook, his eyes sharp. "Ah, Brook. Always thinking. This approach serves multiple purposes. It removes a powerful piece from the board, someone who might have hindered future... investigations." He paused, letting the implication hang in the air. "And it redirects suspicion splendidly. Why chase shadows when a convenient scapegoat can be presented? This way," he added, his smile widening slightly into a smug expression, "we kill two birds with one stone."

Brook simply bowed his head. "As you say, My Lord."

(Back to the present, at the Royal Palace)

A palace official approached them. "Lord Evan, His Majesty is expecting you, but protocol demands we announce your presence first."

"Of course," Evan replied smoothly. "Please proceed."

They waited in an antechamber adorned with royal portraits and thick carpets that muffled their footsteps. After only a few moments, the official returned.

"His Majesty grants you immediate audience, Lord Evan. He awaits you in his private study. Your man," he indicated Brook, "will wait here."

"Thank you," Evan said. He gave Brook a brief, almost imperceptible nod, then turned and followed the official down a quiet corridor.

The door to the King’s study was imposing, made of dark, heavy wood. The official knocked once, then opened it, stepping aside for Evan to enter. Brook remained outside, standing straight and silent against the corridor wall.

The study was spacious but felt cluttered with maps, scrolls, and books. King Albert sat behind a large, ornate desk, looking weary. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his usual commanding presence seemed diminished by worry and lack of sleep. He looked up as Evan entered, a flicker of hope briefly illuminating his features.

"Lord Evan," the King said, his voice raspy. He gestured towards a plush armchair opposite the desk. "Please, sit."

Evan inclined his head respectfully. "Your Majesty." He moved gracefully and sat down, arranging himself comfortably but remaining alert.

The King leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. "I received your urgent letter yesterday . It mentioned... significant progress? A clue regarding the identity of this murderer who plagues us?"

Evan met the King’s gaze steadily. He chose his words carefully, his tone polite and serious. "Not precisely the murderer himself, Your Majesty. Not yet. However, my investigation has uncovered something equally disturbing. I believe I have identified his accomplice."

The King frowned, confused. "An accomplice? Who would dare assist such a monster?"

Evan paused for dramatic effect, letting the weight of his impending accusation settle in the room. "Someone highly placed, Your Majesty. Someone whose position allowed him to obstruct justice and perhaps even aid the killer directly."

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "The Grand Duke. Duke Ryan."

The name hung in the air. The King stared at Evan, his expression shifting from hope to confusion, then to utter disbelief. His mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out for a moment. "Ryan?" he finally managed, his voice low. "Grand Duke Ryan? Charles’s boy?Are you certain, Lord Evan? This is a grave accusation."

"I understand the gravity, Your Majesty," Evan replied calmly. "I would not bring this before you without substantiation."

"Proof," the King demanded, his voice regaining some strength, laced with bewilderment. "You claim Duke Ryan is involved in these heinous crimes? Where is your proof?"

"I have it here, Your Majesty," Evan said. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and carefully withdrew the small bundle of letters tied with the ribbon. He placed them gently on the desk in front of the King. "Letters, Your Majesty. Written between Duke Ryan and an unnamed individual, whom I believe to be the murderer."

The King hesitantly reached for the letters. His eyes immediately fell upon the ducal seal, the familiar crest of Carleton. He picked up the top letter, his hand trembling slightly as he unfolded the thick parchment.

Evan watched him closely. "You will recognize the seal, of course, Your Majesty. And the handwriting. It is unmistakably the Duke’s."

The King scanned the first letter, his brow furrowed in concentration. Evan continued, guiding the King’s interpretation. "You see, Your Majesty, the letters don’t contain outright confessions. The Duke is too clever for that. But they speak of ’our mutual friend ’ and the need for discretion. They mention specific dates and times, often coinciding with the nights of the murders, discussing the need to ’manage the situation’ or ’ensure things proceed smoothly’."

Evan pointed to a specific line in the letter the King was holding. "Here, Your Majesty, he mentions needing to ’arrive somewhat later than expected’ to an official matter near the docks on the night Lord Ashton was killed. He frames it as an unfortunate delay, but could it not be interpreted as ensuring he wasn’t present until the murderer had escaped? And here," Evan indicated another letter, "he talks about ’misplacing’ a piece of potential evidence found near the scene of the Lord Collin’s residence, calling it insignificant. Insignificant, or intentionally hidden?"

The King picked up another letter, his face growing paler as he read.

Evan pressed his advantage, his voice remaining respectful but firm. "This explains so much, Your Majesty. Think about the investigation led by the Duke. It went nowhere. Key clues were overlooked or dismissed. Witnesses reported seeing the Duke’s carriage near locations shortly after incidents occurred, always arriving just too late to apprehend anyone. Even the woman who wanted to confess was killed under his watch. Was he deliberately slowing the investigation? Was he feeding information to the killer, warning him? Covering his tracks? These letters suggest a pattern of deliberate obstruction and communication."

The King looked up from the letters, his eyes filled with a mixture of horror and dawning, reluctant understanding. He seemed to stumble mentally, grasping for an alternative explanation but finding none that fit the presented narrative. "Ryan... covering for a murderer?"

"It pains me to say it, Your Majesty," Evan said, his expression carefully crafted to show regret, "but the evidence points strongly in that direction. Have you also considered, Your Majesty, that since Duke Ryan was... removed from the primary investigation team due to the perceived lack of progress, the killings have stopped? Not a single murder has occurred since he lost his direct oversight."

As Evan spoke, the King’s gaze drifted to Evan’s right hand, which rested on the arm of the chair. It was neatly bandaged around the palm and wrist. "You were injured, Lord Evan?" the King asked, momentarily distracted.

Evan glanced down at his hand as if noticing it for the first time. "Ah, yes, Your Majesty. A minor incident." He offered a self-deprecating smile. "Some desperate bandits attacked my carriage on the road a few days ago while I was pursuing a lead related to this case. A nuisance, nothing more. They will be found and dealt with soon enough." He subtly implied the attack was connected to his investigation, perhaps even orchestrated by those trying to silence him.

The King nodded slowly, his mind clearly overwhelmed by the accusations against Ryan, the letters, and Evan’s seemingly logical connections. The bandaged hand only added to the impression that Evan had faced danger to uncover this truth. He looked back at the letters, then at Evan. The evidence, combined with Evan’s arguments and the convenient cessation of murders, seemed damning.

"He..." The King struggled for words, shaking his head slightly. "Ryan..." He finally seemed to accept the possibility, the weight of the ’proof’ too heavy to ignore. He looked at Evan with newfound respect, mixed with the turmoil of betrayal. "Very well, Lord Evan. You have done... exceptional work. Difficult, but necessary work for the kingdom." He pushed himself up from his chair, looking older than he had just minutes before. He walked around the desk and placed a hand briefly on Evan’s shoulder, who had also risen. "Good job. Thank you."

"My duty is always to serve you, Your Majesty," Evan replied, bowing his head slightly.

He turned and walked towards the door, his expression neutral. Just as he reached it, he heard the King’s voice, now filled with cold resolve, shouting past him into the corridor. "Guards! Fetch the Prime Minister! Immediately!"

Evan allowed himself the smallest hint of a smile as he stepped out into the corridor, closing the study door quietly behind him. The first stone had been cast, and it had hit its mark perfectly.

Brook fell into step beside him as they walked back towards the palace entrance. The plan was unfolding exactly as designed.

As they walked down the steps towards their waiting carriage, Evan murmured softly, almost to himself, the words carried away by the gentle morning breeze, "Frame Ryan as the accomplice... successful. Now, for the second stage... frame Byron as the murderer."

Brook caught the murmur. He said nothing, merely opened the carriage door, his expression unchanged. Inside, Evan leaned back against the cushions, the bandaged hand throbbing faintly, a small price to pay for the game he was playing. The first bird was falling; the second was now firmly in his sights.