The Prince's Arranged Marriage-Chapter 98: A Palace Holds It’s Breath II

The palace did not panic.

It performed.

That was what made it dangerous.

Servants moved faster but kept their heads bowed. Guards doubled quietly at doors, their faces blank. Ministers slipped through corridors like shadows, murmuring into sleeves, pretending they weren’t afraid.

The entire kingdom was holding its breath.

Alexander moved through it like a knife.

He didn’t ask permission.

He didn’t wait for council approval.

He didn’t soften his voice.

He had one truth lodged under his ribs: Lucien was out there, and every second wasted was another second the conspirators used to reshape the story.

Alexander reached his study, and his people were already there with maps and lists. The clasp Lucien had left behind was heavy in his pocket, a small piece of metal that somehow felt like a heartbeat.

"Report," Alexander said.

A scout stepped forward. "Covered wagon confirmed. Turned onto old service roads beyond the river lane. Two riders followed at distance, lost it near the eastern warehouse district."

Alexander’s eyes narrowed. "Lost it how."

"Diversion," the scout admitted. "Someone created a street block spilled barrels, shouting, commotion. Our riders had to slow."

A second man spoke. "Which means they had help inside the city."

Alexander’s jaw tightened.

Help inside the city meant money, coordination, reach.

He pointed to the map. "Seal the warehouse district. Quietly. No announcements. Check every stable, every storage hall, every private courtyard."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Another man approached with a bundle of papers. "Access logs from the servant gate. And key records."

Alexander took them and scanned quickly.

His eyes caught on a line.

A key inventory check had been recorded... twice.

Same handwriting. Same time. Different ink shade.

A forgery.

Alexander’s grip tightened. "Who signed off on this."

The man answered immediately. "Administrative Office. Routed through Minister Aldren’s chain."

Alexander’s smile was cold. "Of course."

He tossed the papers on the desk and turned. "Bring me the captain who manages palace keys."

A guard bowed and hurried out.

Alexander paced once, then stopped, forcing himself to breathe.

He could feel anger rising hot, violent, familiar.

It wanted him to roar. To storm the council chamber. To drag Aldren by his collar and demand Lucien back.

That was exactly what they wanted.

They wanted Alexander to look like an invading brute who had come to bully Avaloria. They wanted to frame Lucien as a poor, fragile prince caught between a foreign husband and a terrified council.

Alexander would not give them the picture.

He would give them the truth.

A clerk entered, pale and shaking. "Your Highness... the rumor is spreading."

Alexander’s gaze snapped to him. "What rumor."

The clerk swallowed hard. "That Prince Lucien has fallen ill. That he... suffered a fainting spell. That he has been advised to rest privately."

Alexander went still.

His voice came out deadly quiet. "Who said that."

The clerk’s eyes darted. "It’s, it’s being repeated as if it came from the council."

Alexander stared at him for a long moment, then nodded once. "Good."

The clerk blinked. "Good, Your Highness?"

"Yes," Alexander said, calm and terrifying. "Because it means they’ve begun the public story."

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "And stories leave trails."

The clerk swallowed.

Alexander turned to his guard captain. "Find the first mouth that spoke it. Not the last. The first."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Alexander strode out of his study and down the corridor toward the council chamber.

As he walked, the palace hushed around him. Not because he demanded it because fear did.

Two ministers appeared at the far end, their faces arranged into concern.

"Your Highness," one began, "we are deeply troubled to hear"

Alexander didn’t slow. "Move."

They moved.

He entered the council chamber without announcing himself.

Chairs scraped. Voices stopped. Faces turned.

Minister Aldren rose, smoothing his robes as if this were a planned meeting. "Your Highness. We were about to convene to discuss"

"Lucien," Alexander said, flat and clear.

Aldren’s smile tightened. "Yes, we are concerned about Prince Lucien’s wellbeing"

Alexander stepped forward one pace. "Stop."

Aldren blinked. "Your Highness?"

Alexander’s gaze swept the room. Calm faces. Concerned eyes. Too much performance.

"You will not speak about my husband’s health," Alexander said quietly, "until you explain why the city is already repeating a statement he did not make."

A ripple moved through the chamber.

A senior councilman leaned forward. "Your Highness, rumors are unfortunate"

Alexander’s eyes snapped to him. "Unfortunate is a word used by men who benefit."

Silence.

Aldren spread his hands. "We have no knowledge of how such talk began."

Alexander smiled cold, humorless. "Then you won’t mind an inquiry."

Aldren’s eyes narrowed a fraction. "An inquiry?"

Alexander’s voice remained calm. "All palace key records are seized, effective immediately. All exit logs are seized. All administrative routes are frozen. No documents leave this chamber without my seal."

A councilman protested. "Your Highness, you cannot"

Alexander cut him off without raising his voice. "I can."

Aldren’s smile cracked slightly. "This is... excessive."

Alexander leaned forward just enough that the room felt him. "A prince has been taken under your watch. Excessive would be the bodies I could stack if I chose rage over law."

The chamber went very, very still.

Alexander straightened. "I am choosing law."

He looked directly at Aldren. "Which means you will cooperate."

Aldren held his gaze, and for a heartbeat Alexander saw it fear flickering behind the polished mask.

Good.

Alexander continued, voice steady. "If Lucien is ’unwell,’ then he will be seen by independent healers, in public, under my guard."

A councilman sputtered. "That would cause panic!"

Alexander’s gaze sliced to him. "Panic is preferable to lies."

He turned back to the room. "You will stop spreading stories about him. You will stop printing pamphlets. You will stop pretending this is an illness."

Aldren lifted his chin. "And if we say we know nothing?"

Alexander’s answer was simple. "Then I will find the ones who do. And when I do, your polite excuses will not protect you."

He stepped back, letting the threat hang without dressing it up.

Then he left the chamber.

Not because he was done, but because he refused to let them think they could keep him talking while Lucien was moved farther away.

As he strode down the corridor, one of his guards fell into step beside him.

"Your Highness," the guard murmured, "we found something else."

Alexander’s eyes sharpened. "Speak."

"A second set of keys," the guard said quietly. "Hidden in a service hatch near the administrative wing. Not palace-issued. Custom cut."

Alexander’s mouth tightened.

Custom keys meant inside help. Deep help.

He nodded once. "Good."

The guard hesitated. "Good?"

Alexander’s gaze stayed forward. "Because it means they aren’t invisible. They’re human. Humans make mistakes."

He reached his study again, heart steadying into cold purpose.

Lucien was alive. Alexander could feel it in the shape of the enemy’s plan. They wanted a statement, not a corpse.

Which meant Lucien would fight them with words, with posture, with patience.

Alexander’s jaw tightened with pride and fear.

He pulled the clasp from his pocket and held it in his palm for one silent breath.

Then he closed his fist around it and turned back to his men.

"Find the wagon," Alexander said. "Find the keys’ maker. Find the first mouth that spoke the rumor."

His eyes hardened.

"And when you find them," he added softly, "bring them to me."