Chapter 217: The Hand Behind the Crown
"What’s wrong with her?" Lyn asked, her voice soft with concern.
"Alcohol," Ken replied, his gaze still fixed on the chandeliers above as though the answer weighed little on his tongue.
Lyn let out a small breath, shaken by the thought. "Oh my goodness... She’s in a bad state. She needs help."
Ken shifted closer then, carefully pulling the blanket higher over her shoulders as if that alone could shield her from everything else. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice lower now. "But her parents won’t even agree she’s sick."
A brief silence settled between them, stretching quietly through the chamber.
"Come on," he muttered, turning onto his side. "Let’s get some sleep. She’ll be fine as long as she takes her pills."
Lyn didn’t respond in words. Instead, she moved closer to him, the space between them fading until there was none left.
The chamber fell into a heavy calm. Their breathing slowly softened, finding the same rhythm in the dark, until sleep finally pulled them under.
---
Emma’s laugh jolted Brandon awake.
He blinked a few times, still half lost in sleep, before his eyes settled on her. She was already laughing harder, as though she had been waiting for him to wake just to catch him off guard.
"Moonheart... what’s going on?" he asked, pushing himself into a half-sitting position, still groggy.
Emma lifted her chin slightly, a teasing smirk curling at her lips. "I’ll tell you when you stop locking me up in this chamber."
Brandon exhaled through his nose and rubbed a hand over his face before pushing the blanket aside and sitting fully at the edge of the bed. "I’ll take you out tomorrow," he said, his voice still rough with sleep. "Now talk."
She tilted her head as if considering him, then leaned back slightly. "Put it in writing first."
His brows drew together. "Seriously?"
She crossed her arms, settling more comfortably as though she had all the time in the world. "Yeah. I don’t trust you anymore."
"I’m just trying to..."
"Write it."
She turned her face away from him.
A pause followed, heavy but not tense.
Brandon got up without another word, crossed to the desk, and pulled a sheet of paper toward him. The pen scratched quickly at first, uneven and rushed, then steadied as he wrote. When he was done, he lifted it and held it out to her.
"There."
She glanced over her shoulder. The corners of her mouth twitched, almost betraying her, before she finally let out another soft laugh.
"Good," she said, snapping a few pictures of the written promise before turning back to face him, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.
Brandon dropped back onto the bed with a tired sigh, running a hand over his face. "So? What were you planning?"
She shifted onto the edge beside him, one leg swinging slightly as she settled in. "Lyn, Elara, and I," she began.
His brows lifted in quiet curiosity.
"We were talking about Arianna Grant," she added.
Brandon leaned back on his palms. "What about her?"
Emma’s eyes brightened with amusement. "She moved in with Ken and Brooklyn," she said, unable to hold back a short laugh. "And we’re thinking... she should leave."
He shook his head slowly, laughter slipping out under his breath. "Poor Ken."
She snorted softly. "He’s dealing with her now. She doesn’t even let him rest."
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, still chuckling. "Ken never gets a break around her back then."
She snickered at that, resting her chin on her hand as she leaned in slightly. "That’s because he keeps entertaining her."
She shook her head as though the whole situation amused her endlessly. "Honestly, those two are birds of a feather. Arianna starts the madness, and Ken always finds a way to end up in the middle of it."
A small sigh escaped her laughter before she continued. "I just hope Plan A works. Maybe then Ken can finally get a break from Arianna."
Brandon laughed again, low and easy. "You three are chaos. Whoever you decide to serve breakfast to doesn’t stand a chance."
Emma grinned without hesitation. "Relax. We only bully people we like."
She tilted her head toward him, eyes glinting with mischief. "Unfortunately for you, Starlit, you’re one of our favorites."
Brandon let out a quiet chuckle. "Favorite? That’s a dangerous title coming from you three."
Before Emma could respond, the sharp ringing of his device cut through the moment, pulling his attention away instantly.
"Who’s calling you at this hour?" Emma asked, her voice slipping into curiosity. "What’s so important it can’t wait until moonrise?"
Brandon pressed a finger gently against her lips as he reached for the call, silencing her without a word. She leaned back at once, folding her arms, watching him instead.
Several minutes passed in silence.
When he finally lowered the device, the humor that had lingered on his face earlier was gone.
Emma noticed immediately and straightened.
"Starlit? What’s wrong?" she asked softly.
Brandon rubbed the back of his neck, his expression tightening. "The investigators working on Rivena’s case found something."
Emma’s stomach tightened as she sat up a little straighter. "What did they find?"
Brandon’s jaw worked before he spoke. "Damon filled her head with lies," he said grimly. "He told her my father killed hers, told her things that weren’t true. She believed every word of it."
Emma’s eyes widened as the weight of it settled over her.
"Oh... Rivena," she whispered.
For a moment, her gaze dropped, her fingers curling tightly against her palm as if she needed something to hold onto.
"So he never loved her," she said quietly, almost more to herself than to him. "He was using her too."
Brandon gave a slow, silent nod.
"There’s more," he added, his voice dropping even lower.
She looked back up immediately, searching his face. "What else?" she asked.
Brandon’s jaw tightened again before he continued. "Rivena tried to take her own life... twice."
Her hand flew to her mouth as she sucked in a sharp breath. "Wait—what?"
Brandon exhaled slowly, his eyes darkening. "I don’t think Damon is acting alone," he said, staring down at the floor now. "There are some nobles more powerful backing him. Some alphas are helping them."
Silence settled between them, thick and heavy, pressing into the chamber.
After a moment, Emma slipped her hand into his without saying a word.
"When are we going home?" she asked quietly.
"When this investigation is finished," he replied, closing his fingers gently around hers.
He squeezed her hand as he continued, his voice steadier now. "When things settle down in the kingdom. There are more traitors than we thought. I need to find them before they do more damage."
Emma traced slow circles across his palm, grounding him as much as herself. "What about your work? The council meeting at the end of the moon?"
Brandon let out a quiet, almost tired laugh. "Work will still be there."
Then he turned fully toward her, his gaze softening.
"You won’t."
Emma felt warmth rise to her cheeks.
His voice lowered slightly as he added, "Besides, you’re more important to me than any council meeting."
He drew her into his arms then, holding her close as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"Don’t worry," he murmured, his chin resting lightly against her hair. "We’ll get through this."
"Get some sleep. In a few hours, we’ll go see Rivena," Brandon said, drawing the blanket up over her shoulder.
"We’re going home then?" she asked, eyes half-lidded.
"No." His hand paused at the edge of the blanket. "I moved her far away from the traitors. Away from anyone who wants her dead."
---
By moonrise, moonlight had already started slipping through the curtains when Emma stirred. The chamber was quiet, but Brandon was already up.
He stood near the table, fully dressed, like he’d been waiting for a while without saying a word.
She sat up, pushed her hair back, and got moving. A quick shower. A few minutes in the mirror. Nothing slow about it. When she came out, breakfast was already waiting.
She ate fast, then wrapped a portion of food carefully for Rivena before they left.
---
Rivena was sitting when they brought her in.
The moment her eyes landed on Emma, her whole body locked. Her fingers curled into her sleeves. She looked away fast, like she couldn’t hold the sight.
"I’m not a killer," she whispered, breaking before the words even finished.
Emma stepped closer, lowering herself so they were at eye level. "I know."
Rivena shook her head hard, tears spilling down before she could stop them. "I wanted to tell you everything. But he kept pushing me... pushing me until it felt like I had no choice. Like I had to shoot you... and then..." Her voice cracked. "Then shoot myself."
Brandon stayed behind Emma, watching her closely. "That’s why we’re here," he said flatly. "Tell us everything you know."
Rivena swallowed, wiping her face with shaking hands.
"It started three winters ago," she said slowly.
"I went to my father’s grave to pay my respects. That’s where Damon found me."
Emma’s jaw tightened at the name, but she didn’t interrupt.
"He said my father didn’t deserve death... that he deserved honor instead. He showed me things. Proof... or pieces of it. But he never let me see everything." Her voice dropped. "He said he would protect me and my younger sibling if I helped him bring you and the king down."
Brandon’s eyes sharpened. "Damon’s working with some wolf. A Noble. Who?"
Rivena shook her head quickly. "I don’t know. I only heard his voice."
"Think," Brandon pressed.
"I am thinking," she snapped, then flinched at her own tone. "I don’t know him. But he’s an alpha... I’m sure of it."
"Who?" Brandon repeated, voice colder now.
"I don’t know," she said again, almost pleading. "They told me if I talk... my sibling dies."
Brandon exhaled through his nose, already turning slightly. Emma felt his hand slide into hers.
"Then they’re going to kill him anyway," he said. "And I can’t keep protecting you unless you give me something useful."
They started to turn away.
"Wait," Rivena called out sharply.
They stopped..
Her hands trembled as she lifted her gaze. "Promise me you’ll find Nelson... and protect him."
Brandon didn’t fully face her. "I can’t promise anything until you tell me everything."
Rivena’s breath caught. Her eyes flicked between them, panic tightening her throat.
For a moment, she looked like she might stay silent.
Then her lips parted.
"There’s a conspiracy," she whispered. "It’s already inside the kingdom."
The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, pressing against the walls until even breathing felt louder.
Her voice broke even lower.
"And it’s closer to the throne than you think."
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