Chapter 196

[Third-Person’s POV]

If Caroline Kingston was anything, she was a fighter.

When the King had her hauled to the lower levels of the palace, she knew she was going to face one of two fates. Either she was going to die at the King’s hand or at Alexander’s. And truly she wasn’t sure which one was worse.

But knowing her, she was about to give up. There were still a handful of useful pieces of information he kept away in dire times like these. Within the hour she’d been brought to one of the holding cells, Caroline had shouted till her lungs were ready to give out for the King to give her one last chance.

Gregory’s sudden appearance gave her a flicker of hope.

“What?” he snapped.

“Alexander has a weakness.”

A line formed between the King’s brows. “Let me guess, would that weakness just so happen to be his wife, Evelyn?”

Caroline felt her heart drop into her stomach. She hid her panic behind her eyes and casually nodded along.

“Right you are,” she hummed. “If you want to bring Alexander to his knees, then you’re going to have to do it by getting to her first.”

“I am well aware of that, Caroline. In fact, after I had you brought here, I decided to reach out to an old friend—someone that I can actually rely on to get a job done,” he hissed.

She narrowed her eyes at his cutting tone. “And just how exactly does your friend think he’s going to get into the compound?” she questioned. “Alexander’s security system is unmatched.”

“So what? Is this you trying to barter your way out of prison with some ingenious piece of information that only you happen to know?”

Caroline clicked her tongue and tilted her head. A devious smile worked its way across her face.

“As a matter of fact, yes. Unless you want your friend to fail and you’re prepared to hand over the throne to Alexander...”

Gregory sneered at her conniving behavior. To think it was the main reason why he’d gotten along with her in the first place. He folded his arms over his chest and lowered his head.

“What exactly do you wish to gain for this trade then?”

“For starters, I want out of this damn prison cell. Then, you’re going to let me get the hell out of here,” she said. “And I can easily assure you that you will never hear from me ever again.”

“My, my. That’s quite the trade. But is the information you have actually worth it?”

“You tell me,” she said pointedly. “What time is it?”

His brows drew together as he glanced at the watch on his wrist. “Half-past one. Why?”

“I know exactly where Evelyn is at the Manor. Her schedule is as predictable as Alexander’s. She’ll be working in the greenhouse. Alone. Now, as for how you’re going to get your friend beyond the border...I know of a way that will ensure he’ll be able to get through the wall and swipe Evelyn before anyone is any the wiser.”

After Caroline had gone through explaining exactly what needed to be done, the King gave his word.

“Once Evelyn is in my custody, I’ll see that my end of the deal has been fulfilled.”

All that left Caroline to do now was wait. However, as Gregory turned to take his leave, she couldn’t help but notice the underhanded expression he wore on his face.

It set her nerves on edge and filled her with doubt.

[Evelyn’s POV]

“What the hell?” I slurred under my breath.

I couldn’t remember when I actually ended up passing out. All that I did know was that my head was pounding and I couldn’t see anything. When I tried opening my eyes, I felt a sort of cloth material draped over my face.

At first, I tried to shake the head covering off but it was no use. There was absolutely zero point in obscuring my view, considering that there was a slim chance I was going to recognize where I was anyway.

I called out a few times in hopes of someone hearing me. That sense of fear from before was still lingering beneath the surface. I had a strong feeling that I was being used as nothing more than a pawn in someone else’s game.

The explosion. The kidnapping. And now the likely hostage situation. It had the King’s signature written all over it.

I practically rolled my eyes under the damn hood and resumed my mission to get someone's attention. A few minutes passed before I heard the unmistakable sound of metal scraping against the floor. My heart swooped in my chest.

I was no longer alone.

This new presence was unsettling and caused the small hair on the back of my neck to stand up. The sound of heavy footsteps quickly approached. Without warning, the cloth hood was yanked off my head and my eyes scrunched closed from exposure to the harsh lighting in the room.

Slowly, my vision sorted itself out and I was finally able to take in the figure in front of me. He was an older man. The roots of his dark hair were just slightly grey. He wore a worn-out leather jacket that quickly caught my attention. On the right shoulder there seemed to be some kind of a symbol.

A royal shield of some kind.

It didn’t look like the current royal emblem which made me think that perhaps he was some kind of retired soldier from a previous king's reign.

Wait a minute...

Suddenly, the situation began to click together in my mind. Back when Alexander was still piecing together the evidence he needed to incriminate Michael, I remembered him telling me about there being a third party involved with the assassination attempt.

According to what the manager at the junkyard told him, it was a man who wore a jacket that possessed an old royal shield on one of the sleeves. It was that very piece of information that told us the royal family had tried to play a hand in Alexander’s demise.

“So, it’s you,” I said. “You’re the one the King hired to try and get rid of Alexander back during that car wreck.”

The man gave an impressed smile while reaching into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He took a long drag and spoke.

“That’s right. Clever little thing you are,” he noted. “I’m not going to lie, I was rather impressed when I found out that Alexander had managed to survive that car crash—not to mention astonished when I read about how he was never paralyzed in the first place. Man must have iron-clad restraint in order to keep up that sort of charade.”

I shook my head and refrained from rolling my eyes.

“What does the King hope to gain from this stunt?”

“The King hopes to make your idiotic husband realize that it would be in no one’s best interest if he were to continue threatening me,” a low voice rang out.

We turned our attention to the doorway where Gregory stood. His face bore a look of smugness but I could tell that it was nothing more than a facade.

“So I am nothing more than a pawn,” I said. “Do you seriously think that by keeping me here, it’s going to magically fix everything?”

The King took numerous steps forward and glared. “I’d be very careful how you speak to me,” he warned. “I’ve already told Alexander that I’m still not above the idea of potentially sending pieces of your pack to him as a means of teaching him a lesson.”