The Gentleman's Agony

Silas's investigation into the assassination attempts led him to some uncomfortable conclusions.

The attacks weren't random. They were coordinated, well-funded, and backed by people with significant resources. The bombs were sophisticated, the timing was precise, and the attackers had inside knowledge of Elara's schedule and security arrangements.

Which meant someone close to the Queen was feeding information to her enemies.

Silas had suspected this from the beginning, but he'd hoped he was wrong. The idea that someone in Elara's inner circle was betraying her was deeply disturbing, not just because of the immediate danger but because of what it said about the depth of resistance to the reforms.

He started his investigation carefully, methodically, using the skills he'd developed over fifteen years of being invisible. He watched people, listened to conversations, noted patterns and inconsistencies. He followed leads, interviewed witnesses, pieced together fragments of information into a coherent picture.

The work was tedious and time-consuming, but Silas had patience. He'd spent fifteen years enduring constant pain; he could certainly endure a few weeks of investigative work.

He started with the palace staff—the servants, the guards, the administrators who kept the palace running. Most of them were loyal to Elara, genuinely supportive of the reforms. But a few were suspicious, their behavior just slightly off, their loyalties questionable.

Silas documented everything. Who met with whom, who had access to sensitive information, who had the opportunity to pass that information to outsiders. He built a network map, connecting people and events, looking for patterns.

And slowly, a picture emerged.

The conspiracy wasn't limited to the palace. It extended throughout the capital, into the provinces, even into foreign kingdoms. It was a vast network of people who opposed the reforms, who wanted to maintain the old system, who saw Elara as a threat to their way of life.

They called themselves the Preservation Society, and their membership included some of the most powerful people in the kingdom. Lords and ladies, merchants and military officers, even a few members of the clergy. All of them united by their belief that Elara's reforms were destroying the natural order of society.

Silas spent weeks infiltrating their network, using his contacts from Madame Thorne's organization, calling in favors from people who owed him, carefully building a case against them.

He attended their meetings in disguise, listened to their plans, documented their activities. He learned about their funding sources, their communication methods, their strategies for undermining the reforms.

And he learned about their ultimate goal: removing Elara from power and installing a regent who would reverse all the changes she'd made.

The information was damning. But it was also dangerous. Because the deeper Silas dug, the more he realized how powerful the Preservation Society was, how many resources they had, how far they were willing to go to achieve their goals.

They had attempted to kill Elara multiple times. They had infiltrated the palace, the military, the government. They had agents everywhere, watching, waiting, ready to act.

And at the center of it all was someone Silas had trusted.

Silas spent two weeks following leads, interviewing witnesses, and piecing together the conspiracy. He worked mostly at night, when the palace was quiet and people were less likely to notice his movements. He used his old Proxy skills—the ability to be invisible, to move through spaces without being seen, to listen to conversations without being noticed.

And slowly, a picture emerged.

The conspiracy was larger than he'd thought. It wasn't just a few disgruntled nobles trying to protect their privileges. It was an organized movement, with cells throughout the kingdom, all working toward the same goal: removing Elara from power and restoring the old system.

They called themselves the Preservation Society, and their membership included some of the most powerful people in the kingdom. Lords and ladies, merchants and military officers, even a few members of the clergy. All of them united by their belief that Elara's reforms were destroying the natural order of society.

And at the center of it all was someone Silas had trusted.

Lady Ashford.

She'd been one of Elara's earliest supporters, one of the nobles who had stood with them against the Chancellor. She'd helped with the pilot program, had advocated for the reforms, had seemed genuinely committed to change.

But it had all been a lie. A carefully constructed facade designed to get close to Elara, to gain her trust, to learn her secrets.

Silas discovered this late one night, while following Lady Ashford's secretary—the same woman who had helped them infiltrate Duke Ravencroft's gathering months ago. He'd been suspicious of her for weeks, noting small inconsistencies in her behavior, and tonight his suspicions were confirmed.

She met with a group of people in a warehouse near the docks. Silas watched from the shadows as they discussed their plans, their strategies, their next moves.

The warehouse was old and decrepit, the kind of place that legitimate businesses had abandoned years ago. It smelled of rot and mildew, and the only light came from a few magical lanterns that cast flickering shadows on the walls.

Silas positioned himself in the rafters, where he could see and hear everything without being seen himself. It was a skill he'd developed during his years as a Proxy—the ability to be invisible, to observe without being observed, to gather information without leaving traces.

The meeting participants arrived one by one, each of them checking carefully to make sure they weren't being followed. There were about a dozen of them—nobles, merchants, a few military officers. All of them dressed in dark, nondescript clothing that wouldn't attract attention.

Lady Ashford's secretary, Vera, was the last to arrive. She moved with confidence, clearly comfortable in this environment, clearly someone who had done this many times before.

"We're all here," she said, looking around the group. "Let's begin."

"The Queen is becoming too popular," one of them said—a noble Silas recognized as Lord Pemberton, one of the most vocal opponents of the reforms. "The common people love her, and more nobles are starting to support the reforms. If we don't act soon, we'll lose our chance."

"Then we escalate," Vera replied. "The bombs haven't worked. The assassination attempts have failed. We need something more direct."

"An assassination?"

"If necessary. But I think there's a better way." She pulled out a document and spread it on a makeshift table. "The Queen's bond with Silas Vane—it's the foundation of everything she's doing. If we can break that bond, if we can separate them, she'll be vulnerable."

"How do we break a bond that shouldn't exist in the first place?"

"We don't break it. We exploit it." Vera smiled, and there was something cruel in that smile, something that made Silas's blood run cold. "The bond makes them share everything—pain, emotions, even magical costs. If we can overload the bond, push it beyond its limits, it might shatter. And if it shatters while they're connected..."

"They'll both die," someone finished.

"Exactly. And with the Queen dead, the reforms die with her. We can install a regent, someone more sympathetic to our cause, and restore the proper order."

"Who do you have in mind for regent?"

"Lord Pemberton, of course. He's respected, conservative, and he understands the importance of maintaining traditional values."

Lord Pemberton preened at this, clearly pleased with the idea of becoming regent. "I would be honored to serve the kingdom in its time of need."

"When?" someone asked.

"Soon. Within the week. Lady Ashford is arranging for the Queen to attend a magical demonstration at the Royal Academy. We'll have mages there, ready to cast spells that will overload the bond. The Queen won't suspect anything until it's too late."

"And Silas Vane?"

"He'll be there too. The bond requires them to stay close. When the overload hits, they'll both die, and it will look like an accident. A tragic consequence of experimental magic."

"What about the investigation? Won't people suspect foul play?"

"Let them suspect. Without the Queen and her Proxy, without any concrete evidence, there's nothing they can do. And by the time anyone figures out what really happened, Lord Pemberton will be regent and the reforms will be reversed."

The meeting continued for another hour, discussing details and contingencies. Silas memorized everything, filing it away for later use. He noted who was present, who said what, who seemed enthusiastic and who seemed reluctant.

When the conspirators finally dispersed, Silas followed Vera back to the palace. He waited until she was alone in her quarters, and then he made his move.

He entered through the window—a skill he'd learned during his years as a Proxy, when Lord Casimir had occasionally required him to retrieve things from locked rooms. The secretary was sitting at her desk, writing a report, and she didn't notice him until he was standing right behind her.

"Hello, Vera," he said quietly.

She spun around, her hand going to the knife at her belt. But Silas was faster. He grabbed her wrist and twisted, forcing her to drop the weapon.

"Don't scream," he said. "If you scream, I'll have to hurt you, and I'd rather not do that."

"Silas Vane," she said, her voice tight with fear and anger. "I should have known you'd figure it out."

"You should have been more careful. You made mistakes, left trails. I've been following you for two weeks."

"Then you know about the plan."

"I know everything. The Preservation Society, Lady Ashford's involvement, the plot to overload the bond. I know all of it."

Vera's expression shifted from fear to calculation. "Then you know you can't stop us. We're too many, too well-organized. Even if you expose us, even if you arrest everyone you know about, there are others. The movement is bigger than any individual."

"Maybe. But I can stop this particular plot. And I can make sure Lady Ashford faces justice for her betrayal."

"Lady Ashford is a patriot. She's trying to save the kingdom from a Queen who's destroying everything our ancestors built."

"She's a traitor. And so are you." Silas pulled out a set of restraints—magical bindings that would prevent Vera from using any spells or calling for help. "You're going to tell me everything you know about the Preservation Society. Names, locations, plans. Everything."

"I won't betray my cause."

"You will. Because the alternative is spending the rest of your life in a cell, wondering if your silence was worth it."

He bound her hands and feet, gagged her to prevent her from calling out, and then went to find General Blackwood.

The General was in his office, reviewing security reports. He looked up when Silas entered, and his expression shifted from surprise to concern when he saw Silas's face.

"What's wrong?"

"We have a problem. A big one." Silas explained what he'd discovered—the Preservation Society, Lady Ashford's betrayal, the plot to kill Elara by overloading the bond.

General Blackwood's face went pale. "Lady Ashford? Are you certain?"

"I have her secretary in custody. She'll confirm everything."

"Gods." The General stood and began pacing. "If Lady Ashford is involved, how many others are? How deep does this conspiracy go?"

"Deep enough that we need to act carefully. If we move too quickly, we'll spook the conspirators and they'll go underground. But if we wait too long, they'll execute their plan and Elara will die."

"What do you suggest?"

"We let the plan proceed. But we control it. We know when and where they're going to strike, so we can be ready. We catch them in the act, with evidence that can't be denied."

"That's risky. If something goes wrong—"

"If something goes wrong, Elara and I die. I'm aware of the risks." Silas met the General's eyes. "But it's the only way to expose the full extent of the conspiracy. If we just arrest Lady Ashford and her secretary, the rest of the Preservation Society will scatter and regroup. We need to catch them all at once."

General Blackwood was quiet for a long moment, weighing the options.

"All right," he said finally. "We'll do it your way. But Silas, if this goes wrong, if the Queen dies because we took this risk—"

"Then I'll die with her. And you can tell everyone it was my fault."

"That's not comforting."

"It wasn't meant to be."

They spent the rest of the night planning, coordinating with trusted members of the Royal Guard, preparing for the confrontation at the Royal Academy.

And through it all, Silas felt the bond humming between him and Elara, a constant reminder of what was at stake.

If the plan failed, if the conspirators succeeded in overloading the bond, they would both die. Painfully, violently, their consciousness torn apart as the magical connection shattered.

It was a terrifying prospect. But it was also necessary.

Because if they didn't stop the Preservation Society now, the conspiracy would continue, growing stronger, until it finally succeeded in destroying everything Elara was trying to build.

And Silas wasn't going to let that happen.

Not while he still had breath in his body and strength in his limbs.

Not while the bond still connected him to Elara, giving him a reason to fight, a reason to care, a reason to be more than just a tool.

He would protect her. No matter the cost.

Even if it killed him.

Silas discovered this late one night, while following Lady Ashford's secretary—the same woman who had helped them infiltrate Duke Ravencroft's gathering months ago. He'd been suspicious of her for weeks, noting small inconsistencies in her behavior, and tonight his suspicions were confirmed.

She met with a group of people in a warehouse near the docks. Silas watched from the shadows as they discussed their plans, their strategies, their next moves.

"The Queen is becoming too popular," one of them said. "The common people love her, and more nobles are starting to support the reforms. If we don't act soon, we'll lose our chance."

"Then we escalate," Lady Ashford's secretary replied. "The bombs haven't worked. We need something more direct."

"An assassination?"

"If necessary. But I think there's a better way." She pulled out a document. "The Queen's bond with Silas Vane—it's the foundation of everything she's doing. If we can break that bond, if we can separate them, she'll be vulnerable."

"How do we break a bond that shouldn't exist in the first place?"

"We don't break it. We exploit it." The secretary smiled. "The bond makes them share everything—pain, emotions, even magical costs. If we can overload the bond, push it beyond its limits, it might shatter. And if it shatters while they're connected..."

"They'll both die," someone finished.

"Exactly. And with the Queen dead, the reforms die with her. We can install a regent, someone more sympathetic to our cause, and restore the proper order."

Silas felt cold fury building in his chest. They were planning to kill Elara by killing him. By overloading the bond, by pushing it until it broke, by using the very thing that connected them as a weapon.

He wanted to burst in, to confront them, to make them pay for their treachery. But he forced himself to stay hidden, to listen, to gather information.

"When?" someone asked.

"Soon. Within the week. Lady Ashford is arranging for the Queen to attend a magical demonstration at the Royal Academy. We'll have mages there, ready to cast spells that will overload the bond. The Queen won't suspect anything until it's too late."

"And Silas Vane?"

"He'll be there too. The bond requires them to stay close. When the overload hits, they'll both die, and it will look like an accident. A tragic consequence of experimental magic."

The meeting continued for another hour, discussing details and contingencies. Silas memorized everything, filing it away for later use.

When the conspirators finally dispersed, Silas followed Lady Ashford's secretary back to the palace. He waited until she was alone in her quarters, and then he made his move.

He entered through the window—a skill he'd learned during his years as a Proxy, when Lord Casimir had occasionally required him to retrieve things from locked rooms. The secretary was sitting at her desk, writing a report, and she didn't notice him until he was standing right behind her.

"Hello, Vera," he said quietly.

She spun around, her hand going to the knife at her belt. But Silas was faster. He grabbed her wrist and twisted, forcing her to drop the weapon.

"Don't scream," he said. "If you scream, I'll have to hurt you, and I'd rather not do that."

"Silas Vane," she said, her voice tight with fear and anger. "I should have known you'd figure it out."

"You should have been more careful. You made mistakes, left trails. I've been following you for two weeks."

"Then you know about the plan."

"I know everything. The Preservation Society, Lady Ashford's involvement, the plot to overload the bond. I know all of it."

Vera's expression shifted from fear to calculation. "Then you know you can't stop us. We're too many, too well-organized. Even if you expose us, even if you arrest everyone you know about, there are others. The movement is bigger than any individual."

"Maybe. But I can stop this particular plot. And I can make sure Lady Ashford faces justice for her betrayal."

"Lady Ashford is a patriot. She's trying to save the kingdom from a Queen who's destroying everything our ancestors built."

"She's a traitor. And so are you." Silas pulled out a set of restraints—magical bindings that would prevent Vera from using any spells or calling for help. "You're going to tell me everything you know about the Preservation Society. Names, locations, plans. Everything."

"I won't betray my cause."

"You will. Because the alternative is spending the rest of your life in a cell, wondering if your silence was worth it."

He bound her hands and feet, gagged her to prevent her from calling out, and then went to find General Blackwood.

The General was in his office, reviewing security reports. He looked up when Silas entered, and his expression shifted from surprise to concern when he saw Silas's face.

"What's wrong?"

"We have a problem. A big one." Silas explained what he'd discovered—the Preservation Society, Lady Ashford's betrayal, the plot to kill Elara by overloading the bond.

General Blackwood's face went pale. "Lady Ashford? Are you certain?"

"I have her secretary in custody. She'll confirm everything."

"Gods." The General stood and began pacing. "If Lady Ashford is involved, how many others are? How deep does this conspiracy go?"

"Deep enough that we need to act carefully. If we move too quickly, we'll spook the conspirators and they'll go underground. But if we wait too long, they'll execute their plan and Elara will die."

"What do you suggest?"

"We let the plan proceed. But we control it. We know when and where they're going to strike, so we can be ready. We catch them in the act, with evidence that can't be denied."

"That's risky. If something goes wrong—"

"If something goes wrong, Elara and I die. I'm aware of the risks." Silas met the General's eyes. "But it's the only way to expose the full extent of the conspiracy. If we just arrest Lady Ashford and her secretary, the rest of the Preservation Society will scatter and regroup. We need to catch them all at once."

General Blackwood was quiet for a long moment, weighing the options.

"All right," he said finally. "We'll do it your way. But Silas, if this goes wrong, if the Queen dies because we took this risk—"

"Then I'll die with her. And you can tell everyone it was my fault."

"That's not comforting."

"It wasn't meant to be."

They spent the rest of the night planning, coordinating with trusted members of the Royal Guard, preparing for the confrontation at the Royal Academy.

And through it all, Silas felt the bond humming between him and Elara, a constant reminder of what was at stake.

If the plan failed, if the conspirators succeeded in overloading the bond, they would both die. Painfully, violently, their consciousness torn apart as the magical connection shattered.

It was a terrifying prospect. But it was also necessary.

Because if they didn't stop the Preservation Society now, the conspiracy would continue, growing stronger, until it finally succeeded in destroying everything Elara was trying to build.

And Silas wasn't going to let that happen.

Not while he still had breath in his body and strength in his limbs.

Not while the bond still connected him to Elara, giving him a reason to fight, a reason to care, a reason to be more than just a tool.

He would protect her. No matter the cost.

Even if it killed him.

End of Chapter 16