The Princess And The Lord-Chapter 1432: Veil of Malice II

Salvo left the room and strode down the long hall, his footsteps echoing softly against the marble floor. Halfway down, he noticed a figure leaning casually against a pillar, arms folded across his chest. Platinum-blonde hair caught the sunlight streaming through the high windows, glinting like silver.

The man’s handsome face lifted slightly as Salvo approached, icy blue eyes locking onto him.

"Sean," Salvo said coolly, his dark blue eyes narrowing as their eyes meet.

"I heard you’re planning to visit Harland. I want to come too," Sean said bluntly, his tone direct and unflinching.

Salvo’s brows drew together in a deep frown, his disapproval clear. "Harland already knows who you are. Are you so determined to sour this trip as well?"

Sean clicked his tongue in irritation. "Why bother hiding? This is Harland we’re talking about. How long do you think we can keep deceiving them? Why maintain this facade? Are you afraid of them now?" His tone was sharp, almost taunting.

Salvo’s expression darkened. "Are you trying to provoke me, little brother?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "How childish."

Sean’s scowl deepened, his frustration boiling over. "Then why won’t you let me come? How much longer must I play this... actor? I’m tired of the charade. Let me reclaim my place as a Paladin. Let me serve the organization openly."

"Everything has its time and place, brother," Salvo said coldly, his gaze hard as steel. "Your primary task is to raise your fame and rally supporters for the organization and the Saintess. When the moment is right, you will take your place among the Constellation."

"But you know my reputation isn’t exactly stellar," Sean muttered with a bitter edge.

"And whose fault is that?" Salvo’s eyes narrowed, his words cutting. "Fooled by a mere girl..."

Sean pressed his lips into a thin line, shame flickering across his face.

Salvo drew in a deep breath, his chest rising slowly before he exhaled with measured calm. Then his gaze locked onto Sean’s, sharp and unyielding, as though peering straight into his brother’s soul.

"Why are you so insistent on coming to Harland?" His voice sank to a low, dangerous growl, each word laced with quiet menace as he scrutinized Sean’s face, searching for the true reason behind this sudden defiance.

Avoiding Salvo’s piercing stare, Sean spoke, his voice steady but tight. "After a thorough investigation, we’ve identified two individuals who helped them escape. Their names are Garrof Winfield and Lloyd Bryner. Both are connected to the incident involving the Hamilton family, who—as we all know—have since relocated to Herriond, far beyond our reach. Now, Garrof and Lloyd are collaborating with operatives who’ve infiltrated Elysium. We haven’t confirmed their identities yet, but they’re likely Noxcra agents... or perhaps even Archknights. Either way, all the evidence points back to Harland."

Sean’s icy blue gaze didn’t waver as he continued, his voice calm but edged with quiet authority. "If we want to uncover Harland’s plans, there’s no alternative. We must go to Herriond."

Salvo fell silent, his gaze distant as he contemplated their next move. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice low but firm.

"It’s too dangerous." His eyes lifted, cold and piercing. "Whoever they are, they’re powerful—far more than you think. Facing them on their own territory would be suicide. It’s bad enough if you were killed... but if they captured you and extracted information? Everything we’ve worked for would be destroyed."

"But—" Sean began.

"I said NO!" Salvo’s voice cut like a blade, leaving no room for argument.

Sean bit his lip, frustration flickering in his icy blue eyes. Salvo’s expression softened slightly as he stepped closer, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

"This is too risky. Forget about it." His tone lowered, almost tender, though his eyes glinted dangerously. "Besides, you have other tasks to handle... Have you found him yet? Igor Renovich."

Sean exhaled slowly, the weight of the name heavy in the air. "Yes. He’s being held in a prison up north. Breaking him out won’t be easy."

"That’s why I’m leaving it to you, brother." Salvo smiled warmly, almost affectionately, as he gave Sean’s shoulder a firm pat.

But Sean’s expression darkened with doubt. "Should we really use him? That man slaughtered twenty gifted children for his experiments."

Salvo’s brow arched ever so slightly before a soft chuckle escaped him. his voice was low and unsettling. "After everything we’ve done, are you truly growing a conscience now, brother? You need to steel your heart if we’re to build the future we’ve dreamed of." His smile curved faintly, a cold and sharp expression. "Besides... those children were gifted people. In my opinion, he did us a favor, don’t you agree?"

Sean’s jaw tightened. Guilt and sorrow flickered across his face, but he quickly turned away to hide it from Salvo’s watchful eyes.

Sean drew a deep breath, steadying himself before answering."I’ll get him."

Salvo’s head tilted slightly, his smile widening into something almost predatory. "That’s my good brother."

____________________________________

"Your Majesty." Hugo bowed his head respectfully as he stepped into the King’s study.

He had heard many stories about the famed frugality of the Lucient family, but seeing it for himself was still surprising. The King’s study was far from the grandiose chambers of gold and ivory he had imagined. In fact, it wasn’t much more lavish than his own study back at the manor—though perhaps it was a little larger, with more depth and quiet gravitas.

"Please, have a seat, Mr. Hamilton," Lucas said, gesturing to the couch.

Fredhardt silently stepped forward, serving coffee to both men before taking his place beside the King.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Lucas said politely.

"Not at all, Your Majesty. It is an honor to serve you." Hugo bowed again, his tone courteous.

"Now then," Lucas continued, "I understand you’ve been sponsoring my brother-in-law?"

Hugo nodded. "That’s correct, Your Majesty."

"Good. I’d like you to arrange an exhibition for him at Harland’s National Art Gallery."

Hugo’s eyes widened, lighting up with excitement. Harland’s National Art Gallery was the most prestigious in the world, known for its impeccable standards and refusal to chase money or fame.

Getting invited there was nearly impossible. Only a handful of artists had ever been honored"

"That would be incredible, Your Majesty!" Hugo exclaimed before catching himself and reigning in his enthusiasm.

Lucas raised a hand, his calm voice cutting through the moment. "Before we proceed, I must ask—what has been the reception to my brother-in-law’s paintings? I cannot risk tarnishing the gallery’s reputation, no matter who he is."

For a moment, Hugo was stunned. But then a broad smile spread across his face. "You needn’t worry, Your Majesty. The reception to Mr. Zhao’s work has been phenomenal. Many collectors are clamoring to meet him, and even foreign rulers have already commissioned new pieces. Truly, I can think of no one more deserving of being displayed in the National Art Gallery than Mr. Zhao Li Xin."

Lucas’s expression didn’t change, but inwardly, he was pleased. He had already known this, but he wanted to hear Hugo’s assessment.

"Good," Lucas said simply. "In that case, I’d like the exhibition to be held in the next three weeks."

"Three weeks?!" Hugo blurted out before catching himself.

Flushing slightly, he quickly adjusted his tone. "Ah—my apologies, Your Majesty. May I ask, how many weeks did you have in mind?"

Lucas tilted his head slightly, his calm gaze steady on Hugo. "Is that too soon?"

"No... but may I ask the reason, Your Majesty?"

"For starters, I want to continue your plan, roping in all your old friends to go against the organization. But I intend to make it bigger and far less hidden. Of course, they don’t need to worry. I’ll provide them with opportunity, safety, and benefits if they choose to side with Harland. Even better, if they can influence other wealthy individuals to our cause, I’ll support them in every way possible. Ultimately, I want to stand against the Saintess... and later, her master."

"So the goal would be Alexander Behreen and Theodore Nevaro?" Hugo asked carefully.

"Eventually." Lucas replied nonchalantly, sipping his coffee with graceful ease.

Hugo nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I understand. But to gain their trust, I can’t do this alone. Even with the Archknight’s reassurance..." He glanced respectfully at Fredhardt. "No offense, sir."

"None taken." Fredhardt gave a calm, reassuring smile.

"Don’t worry, Mr. Hamilton. I have... my own plan," Lucas said, his voice smooth yet carrying an unmistakable edge. "You only need to relay your invitations to all your trusted friends and business partners. Make the invitations exclusive—let it be known that not everyone is welcome. And..." His eyes glinted with cunning amusement. "I want you to send invitations to the S.A.I.N.T. organization as well. To the Saintess... and Alexander Behreen."

Hugo widen his eyes, dumbfounded. "The S.A.I.N.T. organization? Why?"

Lucas clasped his hands in his lap, his expression calm yet imposing. "Because I want to surprise them."

Hugo did not fully grasp the breadth of King Lucas’s design, yet he harbored no doubt in the man’s wisdom. This was the sovereign who had raised Harland from the ashes of ruin to the heights of renewed glory, a natural born leader bless with intelligent and foresight, the one who feared by many yet, respected even by his enemies.

Lucas Noland Lucient was a force to be reckon with, a monarch so formidable it force two unlikely people to make alliance, just to design his downfall... and still, they had failed miserably. Hugo saw no cause for doubt. He was certain that so long as he followed this king, all would be well.

Lowering his head in deference, Hugo said solemnly, "I shall oblige, Your Majesty."

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