C16 The Masked Man

The hall was still. The logic cuts through the noise, clean as a blade.

Even Athalia stiffened, just for a moment. She hadn’t expected this. Not from him. Not now.

Adrian turned sharply to the council. “If Fredric was controlled, then someone else commanded him.”

Lysander nodded slowly. “The prince speaks reasonably, Your Grace. The sequence is inconsistent.”

Unease spread. Eyes shifted. Doubt began to take a shape it hadn’t had before.

Athalia felt it, and moved before it could grow in a different direction.

“I recall,” she said gently, thoughtful, almost reluctant, “that Fredric mentioned, hearing a familiar voice.” Heads turned. “Could it have been Princess Arianna’s?”

Fredric’s head snapped toward her. Shock. Disbelief.

“I’m not accusing her,” Athalia went on, careful. “But if Talen didn’t instruct him, then perhaps it was someone he trusted. Someone whose voice wouldn’t alarm him.”

“She’s your sister,” Adrian said, frowning. “Why would you suggest that?”

Athalia lowered her gaze and offered no answer. The silence spoke for her.

The queen exhaled. “It’s possible,” she said, uncertain. “Someone else may have guided him.”

Fredric stared at her. “Mother. You believe she could do this?”

“We don’t know what to believe,” the advisor cut in. “But we must find the truth.”

Lysander stepped forward again. “If we place him under hypnosis once more, we may retrieve a clearer memory.”

Fredric straightened. “I have nothing to hide. Do it.”

The vial was brought forward — the same fragrance. Fredric breathed it in without resisting. His body slackened. His eyes went distant, empty.

The hall fell silent as he stood there, motionless, waiting for a question.

“Where were you when the King was attacked?” Lysander asked.

“I was alone with him.”

“And then?”

“I heard someone.”

“Who?” Lysander’s voice tightened.

Lysander stepped forward cautiously, boots echoing across the floor. The council held its breath.

The queen sat stiff beside the king’s empty chair. Adrian stood nearby, jaw clenched. Athalia kept her place behind the queen, face calm, eyes unreadable.

The truth felt within reach — or so everyone believed.

“Prince Fredric,” Lysander said, “who was it?”

Fredric’s eyes didn’t blink, staring at nothing. His voice came flat and soft. “A man.”

Lysander exchanged a glance with the advisor. The council shifted.

“Is he here?” the advisor asked.

“Did the man interact with you?” Adrian pressed.

Fredric nodded faintly. “Yes.”

“What did he do?”

“He . . . sprayed something. I breathed it in.”

The ministers stiffened.

“What did he spray?”

“A fragrance.”

The hall exhaled as one. The cursed fragrance. The one used on Talen. The one that could bend a man past his own will.

“He must be talking about Talen,” a minister said.

“Yes, yes,” another agreed.

The advisor calmed the room, and Lysander steadied his voice. “Then what did he do?”

“He gave me a knife.”

The queen lowered her head. Adrian shut his eyes.

“And after he gave you the knife?”

“I turned toward the King. Then another man came and tried to stop me.”

“Another? Who? What did he look like?”

Fredric’s head tilted, as if searching through fog. “His face was covered.”

Disappointment rippled through the room.

“Another masked accomplice?” someone murmured.

“Or he’s too far gone to remember clearly,” another said.

“What do you mean he stopped you?” Lysander asked. “Did he attack you?”

“No. He tried to stop me.”

“Stop you from what?” the advisor thundered.

“From hurting the King.”

The queen made a soft sound, though she’d already braced for pieces of this. Hearing it aloud still cut through her.

“So he tried to protect Father?” Adrian asked.

“Yes.”

The room went still again. Even Athalia shifted, just enough to show she was tracking every word, not enough to give anything away.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Lysander said. “He didn’t admit hurting the King. He tried to.”

“He was hypnotized. He didn’t know what he was doing,” another minister countered.

The advisor raised a hand for quiet. “Did you know the man?”

“No.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No. He struggled. I injured him. Then he left.”

“How did he get hurt?”

A long pause. Fredric’s breath grew shallow, as if the memory resisted him. “I pushed him. He fell against a pillar. His arm was cut.”

Lysander nodded slowly — it matched the blood they’d found near the west corridor.

“Do you know why he left?” Adrian asked. “Why didn’t he stay to defend the King, or call for help?”

Fredric’s voice thickened. “He saw someone.”

“Who?”

Fredric’s eyes lifted, as if recalling a vantage point. “Someone on the tower. The west tower.”

Even before the murmurs rose, Athalia’s hand curled at her side — small, controlled, invisible to most.

“What did the man in the tower do?” Lysander asked.

Another long pause. “He watched. Probably a guard on duty.”

“Isn’t that the eyewitness who was killed?” a minister said abruptly.

The council shifted uneasily. It was starting to make sense. Watching meant getting knowledge. Knowledge meant involvement.

“No wonder they took him out,” the advisor said.

“But why did the man see the guard and flee?” Adrian asked. “He was doing something good.”

Fredric’s answer carried a faint echo of fear, even hypnotized. “Because he wasn’t supposed to be seen.”

Lysander stepped back, thinking. The advisor signaled the guards to stay alert.

“Then the King was lying in my arms. Lifeless. The knife slipped from my hand,” Fredric said.

“Talen never mentioned another man,” Lysander said. “Could he not have seen him?”

He took a moment before his next question. “Prince Fredric — this man who tried to stop you. Did he speak to you at all?”

“No.”

“Did you see his face behind the mask?”

“Fully covered.”

“Do you remember his clothes, his height, anything at all?”

Fredric’s voice flattened again. “He had a mark on his forearm. It was a crescent shaped like an eye.”

A collective gasp.

“No one is known with such a symbol.”

If he was from the palace, he would be found. But if he wasn’t from the palace, he was an intruder, or worse — an outside enemy.

Only a few knew what those words actually meant.