The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 61: Unsealed Letter

A knock on the door woke him up.

It was morning?

Shrugging a robe over his lean frame, he urged the person to come in.

"A good morning to you, Your Grace."

Yeren nodded at him.

"The Royal Treasurer wants to discuss accounts with you, Your Grace."

He ran a hand through his sleep-tousled hair.

His gaze darted to the jug of wine.

Andon followed his gaze.

"A wise man warned me about having wine too early in the day."

Yeren scoffed.

"I am in no mood for lectures. Where is my Cupbearer?"

Andon looked towards the open window.

"The carriage has not returned, so I assume she has not returned as well."

Yeren moved to the jug and poured the wine himself.

"I gave her an order."

Andon tilted his head. "Which was?"

"To be back before midnight."

Andon whistled.

"Lord Aldrich is a fine man, I can’t fault her if she decided to linger longer in his very desirable company." Andon’s eyes twinkled as he spoke.

Very desirable? Yeren wanted to choke on that.

"Let me know when she arrives. I will speak with her."

"I don’t think that will be advisable. Let me be the one to speak with her, Your Grace."

"Do as you wish, just let me be."

Andon sank into the cushion at the corner.

"Today is the day of your birth. Why in the world would I let you be on such a special day?"

A small smile curved Yeren’s lips. He hated making a fuss about such vain things.

"Your uncle will be arriving before noon. So will his family. And, there are several letters to be read and accorded replies... the list goes on."

"Burn all the letters."

"Pardon, Your Grace."

"You heard what I said. I have no wish to read or reply to any such letters."

"Don’t you think it rash to do such a thing?"

"Then why don’t you read the letters yourself and see how boring and time-consuming it is to read the same things over and over."

Andon blinked. "You seem to be in a mood. There will be a little banquet when your uncle and his family arrive."

Something made Yeren glance in Andon’s direction. Andon was holding an unsealed letter in his hand.

"What is it?"

Andon hesitantly gave it to him.

"I found it lying amongst the pile. I thought you might want to see it."

Yeren all but snatched it from, running his eyes over the contents.

The barely legible script was very familiar.

"I have a letter with similar handwriting in the study."

He dashed out of the room, Andon at his heels.

Four guards followed them. He stormed into the study and went straight to his usual table. The appointment with the Treasurer was immediately forgotten.

He rummaged for the stack of letters he kept. Then, he found it. The invitation to Claire and Arlan’s engagement.

The handwriting was the same. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

He leaned back against the chair.

Andon came and looked at the two letters.

"Why would he threaten your life so openly?"

Yeren reread the letter. There was no name, no signature, no seal. There was nothing open about the letter.

"He didn’t expect me to know the sender."

"So what do you intend to do about it?"

"Enjoy your name day while it lasts, you can never tell if it will be your last." Andon read aloud. "It just feels too convenient for a man of such status to descend to writing something that could be traced back to him by himself."

Yeren darted a glance at him. "What are you suggesting, then? That someone is impersonating him?"

Andon shrugged. "Everyone knows Jarren Straught is an enemy of the Crown."

Yeren looked at the two letters again, examining for any subtle differences. All the letters were curved the same way.

He rubbed his sore eyes.

The guard opened the door and the Treasurer walked in. The old man’s eyes bulged at Yeren’s state of dress.

"Your Grace, forgive me. I assumed you were-"

"It’s fine. I can spare time to view the accounts if they are urgent." He stuffed the letters back into the hidden compartment in the table and locked it.

He gestured for Lord Malric to take the seat across from him. The man nodded and spread his scrolls on the table, his wrinkled hands trembling. Yeren assisted him.

"Thank you, Your Grace. And, congratulations on the day of your birth."

Yeren nodded in acknowledgement.

Andon excused himself, claiming he had duties to attend to. As they went through the inventory from the picnic, all he could think of was the letter.

And her.

Why was she not back by then? The sun had risen and was shining brightly.

"Are you sure you do not want to change into more... appropriate clothing?" Malric asked with a small smile.

Yeren glanced down at his robe.

"Since it clearly disturbs you, I will put on decent clothes. Continue the review without me, I will join you shortly."

Malric sighed. "When you say you’ll join me shortly, you usually mean ’until further notice’."

Yeren laughed. He hated reviewing accounts.

"I might surprise you." He said and left.

The guards marched behind him as he headed to his room. The hallway was completely devoid of people. Their footsteps echoed loudly.

He stopped by the balcony close to his room. A man was walking towards the castle.

The guards at the door blocked his path. When the man glanced up, Yeren saw his face.

That was the boy that seemed to be in love with Claire, wasn’t it? He asked himself.

He felt a sort of kinship with the lad - both of them wanted to talk to Claire, though for completely opposite reasons, and she was still with another man.

Aldrich was an honourable man to the best of his knowledge. But he couldn’t be sure since they had barely spoken in the current years.

Footsteps of someone running echoed along the hallway.

He could hear her loud breathing and muffled curses.

She was wearing the same dress he had forbidden her from wearing.

"Your Grace." She came to a halt in front of him. He surveyed her quietly, his gaze betraying nothing.

She didn’t look like a woman who’d just been made love to. Her eyes were wild, her hair wind-tousled, her dress intact. And her lips weren’t swollen.

He stifled the urge to smile. If he had a whole night with her, she wouldn’t be running down a hallway like a woman chasing a runaway horse. Aldrich was quite the honourable man, he said to himself.

Then, his gaze fell to the chain on her neck. Something in him made him want to rip it off her neck.