Chapter 200: Chapter-200

“You think they’d assassinate the Emperor?”

“I think someone desperate enough to poison me is desperate enough to kill an unconscious man.” Elara pulled out the three destroyed surveillance devices and set them on the desk. “These were placed in my office months ago. Professional work. Expensive. Whoever commissioned them has been planning long-term. They’re not going to abandon that investment just because circumstances changed.”

Demerti looked at the mechanical insects with visible distaste. “You found all of them?”

“In this room, yes. There are probably more throughout the palace.” Elara gathered them back up. “But that’s not the immediate concern. The immediate concern is creating conditions that force our enemy to reveal themselves.”

“By making them think the Emperor is about to wake.”

“Yes.”

“And if they try to kill him?”

“Then we catch them.” Elara’s expression was cold. “I’ve already positioned people. Ken and a select team of Beast Knights are on rotation in the Emperor’s chambers. The official guards have been… reassigned.”

“Reassigned where?”

“Far away from anything important.” Elara’s tone suggested this hadn’t been a gentle reassignment. “The point is: if someone tries to assassinate the Emperor, they’ll find Beast Knights instead of the corruptible guards they’ve probably already bribed.”

Demerti nodded slowly. “A trap.”

“A trap,” Elara confirmed. “Now help me bait it.”

—

**Present – Late Night, Emperor’s Chambers**

Ken stood in darkness.

Not complete darkness—the Emperor’s chambers were never fully dark. Magical lights burned low along the walls, providing just enough illumination to see the massive bed where the Emperor lay, still and silent, breathing with mechanical regularity. Medical equipment surrounded him—monitoring crystals, IV lines carrying nutrient solutions, enchanted devices that tracked heart rate and magical pressure.

All of it was real. Functional. Necessary to keep the Emperor alive.

But the figure in the bed wasn’t the Emperor.

Ken adjusted his position slightly, careful not to rustle the blankets. The glamour Iris had helped him apply was good—very good—but it wouldn’t hold up to close magical examination. It just needed to pass visual inspection from a distance.

He’d been lying here for six hours.

Waiting.

Behind the ornate screen that separated the sleeping area from the rest of the chamber, two more Beast Knights waited in absolute silence. Mahir and Marcus, both experienced, both deadly. Both under strict orders: observe, identify, capture alive if possible.

The official story was that the Emperor’s personal guards were maintaining their regular patrol. The truth was that Ken had dismissed them all three hours ago, citing “imperial medical emergency requiring privacy.” They’d left without question—probably relieved to be away from the tense atmosphere that had been building for days.

Now the chamber was secured. Controlled. Ready.

Ken’s ear twitched.

Sound. Barely audible. The soft *click* of a door mechanism disengaging.

Not the main entrance—that was locked, guarded from the outside by two Beast Knights who knew to let no one through. This was different. Quieter. More subtle.

The servant’s entrance.

Ken didn’t move. Kept his breathing slow and steady, mimicking the Emperor’s comatose rhythm. His hand rested beneath the blanket, fingers wrapped around a small crystal that would signal the others if needed.

Footsteps. Very light. Someone trying to move silently but not quite succeeding—the floor was too old, the wood too prone to creaking. Ken tracked the sound with his ears, not moving his head.

Whoever it was, they were coming closer.

Through slitted eyes, Ken watched a shadow separate from the darkness near the servant’s door. A figure, hooded and cloaked, moving with the careful precision of someone who’d practiced this route many times.

They stopped at the foot of the bed.

Paused.

Ken could feel them staring, trying to determine if the “Emperor” was truly unconscious or just sleeping lightly. He kept his expression slack, mouth slightly open, exactly like he’d observed the real Emperor’s face during his last visit to these chambers.

The figure moved closer. Around the side of the bed. Reaching into their cloak—

Ken’s hand shot out.

Grabbed the wrist just as fingers closed around something metallic. A blade. Small, wickedly sharp, the kind designed for precise work rather than combat.

The figure gasped—female voice, strangled with surprise—and tried to pull away.

Ken held firm, rolling to the side and *yanking*, using the momentum to pull the attacker off-balance. They stumbled forward, and he surged upright, glamour dissolving as his other hand went to their throat—not squeezing, just controlling, keeping them from crying out.

Behind the screen, Mahir and Marcus moved.

Silent as death itself, they emerged and flanked the struggling figure. Marcus’s hand covered the woman’s mouth before she could scream. Mahir relieved her of the blade with practiced efficiency.

Ken released her wrist and reached up, pulling back the hood.

Long dark hair spilled free. A face he recognized but couldn’t immediately place—thirties, pretty in a understated way, features that wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. She wore servant’s clothing beneath the cloak. Plain. Unremarkable.

Except her eyes.

Those were sharp. Intelligent. And absolutely terrified now that she’d been caught.

“Lights,” Ken said quietly.

One of the magical sconces brightened, flooding the chamber with sudden illumination. The woman flinched, squinting against the brightness.

Ken studied her face more carefully. He’d seen her before. In the palace. Not regularly, but occasionally. Usually in—

“You’re from the Fifth Concubine’s household,” he said slowly. “I’ve seen you attending her.”

The woman said nothing. Couldn’t, with Marcus’s hand still over her mouth.

Ken looked at Mahir. “Search her. Carefully.”

Mahir moved with professional efficiency, checking the woman’s clothing for additional weapons or hidden items. He found:

– The blade Ken had caught her with (small, extremely sharp, handle wrapped in cloth to prevent prints)

– A second blade hidden in her sleeve (similar design)

– A small vial of clear liquid (poison, probably)

– And something else. Something that made Mahir’s ears flatten.

He held it up: a golden hairpin. Expensive. Distinctive. Decorated with small rubies arranged in a butterfly pattern.

Elara’s hairpin. The one she’d been wearing three days ago during the administrative meeting.

“Plant evidence,” Ken said quietly. “Kill the Emperor, leave the Fourth Princess’s personal item at the scene. Create a narrative where she’s the obvious suspect.”

The woman’s eyes widened further. Guilt confirmed.

Ken gestured for Marcus to remove his hand from her mouth. “Speak. Quietly. Who sent you?”

She stayed silent.

“You’re caught,” Ken said, tone reasonable. “In the Emperor’s chambers. With weapons. With poison. With stolen property from a royal princess. There’s no escape. No denial. Your only choice now is whether you cooperate and possibly survive, or stay silent and definitely die very badly.”

Still nothing.

Ken sighed. “Marcus, restrain her properly. Mahir, signal Her Highness. Tell her the trap worked.”

Mahir pulled out a small communication crystal and activated it with a pulse of magic. A moment later, it glowed with acknowledgment.

The woman’s face went even paler. “The Fourth Princess… this was *her* trap?”

“Of course it was,” Ken said. “Did you really think the Emperor was waking? That the timing was coincidental? That you’d just happen to have this perfect opportunity right when you needed it most?”

He leaned closer.

“Her Highness has been three steps ahead of you for days. The rumor was false. The guards were removed deliberately. These chambers have been watched constantly. You walked into a prepared trap and now you’re going to tell us everything.”

“I won’t—”

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