The night air was crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the promise of the first snow. The Duke stood by his window, the crumpled parchment still clutched in his hand. The message, though brief, echoed in his mind with a persistence that made him uneasy: "Trust no one. The Prince is closer than you think."
The Duke had faced many threats over the years—both from within the court and beyond the kingdom's borders—but this was different. This was a warning that cut through the layers of deception that surrounded him, forcing him to confront the uncomfortable truth: the enemy might be much closer than he had ever imagined.
He unfolded the parchment again, staring at the elegant script as if it might reveal more secrets upon further inspection. But there was nothing—no signature, no seal, nothing that could hint at the identity of the sender. Only the words, haunting in their simplicity.
Closer than you think…
The Duke's mind raced. Could it be someone within his own household? A servant, perhaps, or one of his trusted advisors? Or was it possible that the warning referred to someone even more insidious—someone who had managed to infiltrate the highest levels of the kingdom?
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. The Duke quickly folded the parchment and slipped it into his robe before turning to face the visitor.
"Enter," he called, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him.
The door creaked open, and Eveline stepped into the room, her face pale and drawn. The sight of his daughter, usually so composed, brought a pang of concern to the Duke's chest. She was his pride, his jewel, and he had always counted on her to remain strong, no matter the circumstances. But tonight, she looked troubled—more troubled than he had ever seen her.
"Father," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "There is something I need to speak with you about."
The Duke nodded, motioning for her to come closer. "What is it, my dear?"
Eveline hesitated, her eyes flickering to the window as if afraid someone might overhear. "It's about the Prince."
The Duke's heart skipped a beat. "What about him?"
She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say. "There are rumors… whispers among the court that he is planning something—something that could change the course of the kingdom."
The Duke's eyes narrowed. "What kind of rumors?"
Eveline bit her lip, clearly struggling with her words. "They say that he has been meeting with… certain individuals. People who have ties to the darker elements of our world. There are even suggestions that he has made contact with the Order of the Veil."
The Duke's blood ran cold. This was too much of a coincidence. First the mysterious woman's warning, and now his own daughter bringing similar news. Could it be true? Could the Prince really be involved with the Order of the Veil?
"Do you believe these rumors?" the Duke asked, his voice carefully neutral.
Eveline hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I… I don't know, Father. But I have seen him leave the palace late at night, always alone, and always returning just before dawn. It's as if he is hiding something—something he doesn't want anyone to know."
The Duke's mind raced, piecing together the fragments of information he had. If the Prince was indeed involved with the Order of the Veil, then the implications were dire. The Order was not a force to be trifled with—they had their own agenda, one that often ran counter to the interests of the kingdom.
"What do you think he is planning?" the Duke asked, his tone more urgent now.
Eveline shook her head, her expression one of genuine fear. "I don't know, Father. But whatever it is, I fear it could bring ruin to the kingdom—to all of us."