Shadow's Oath

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Chapter 47: The Corpse

When Damion jumped out of bed and ran toward the banquet hall, he feared he would encounter a more horrifying sight.

However, it wasn’t horrifying but strange.

Next to the firewood pile lay a knight.

He wasn’t fully armored but wore chainmail, clearly a knight of the Kingdom of Triton.

Standing beside the knight were Jedrick and Stuga.

Stuga held a dagger.

At first, under the dim glow of the fire, Damion hadn’t noticed it, but it was Maraka’s dagger, stained with blood.

What made the scene even stranger was the behavior of the other guards.

Three knights who were supposed to be standing watch outside were in the room, their drawn swords pointed at Stuga and Jedrick.

The two stood motionless, not resisting as the knights’ swords pressed toward them.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Damion wiped the sweat from his brow, his back drenched in a cold sweat.

In truth, he wanted to talk about the nightmare he had just woken from more than this strange sight.

‘Whether that person is dead or not, can you just listen to me for a moment? I just had this terrible dream…’

It was a nightmare so painful that he felt fortunate Stuga had woken him.

Regaining his composure, Damion scolded them sharply.

“What are you doing? Lower your swords!”

He rushed forward, throwing himself between the knights’ swords and the accused.

His sudden movement nearly caused one of the blades aimed at the two men to stab the prince.

The knights withdrew their swords a few steps but did not sheathe them.

“Your Highness, the Captain of the Guard is dead,”

One of the knights said, his face filled with anger directed at Stuga and Jedrick.

“I can see that.”

Not that seeing made it any easier to understand.

The stab wound that had pierced the Captain’s neck was clear, and the blood pooling beneath him indicated he hadn’t been dead for long.

“This man killed—”

When another knight pointed at Stuga and began to speak, Damion raised his palm to stop him.

“Everyone, leave.”

“Your Highness, this is murder!”

“I said leave!”

“But—”

“Silence! This is the sacred land of the Geronians. For one of us to die here, whether by murder or accident, is unacceptable. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The royal knights exchanged uneasy glances.

None of them moved to immediately obey the prince.

‘So, you’re refusing my command? Because your loyalty lies with my father, not me.’

Damion spoke in the firmest tone he could muster.

“Sheathe your swords! And leave!”

Reluctantly, they complied, slowly sheathing their weapons and glaring as they did.

Damion warned them again.

“If even a word of this incident leaks, I will treat it as an act of treason and have you all executed.”

The knights withdrew, one of them asking as he backed away,

“You’re going to stay with the murderer. Are you sure that’s wise?”

‘Better than staying with you lot.’

Damion wanted to say that but chose to spare their pride and replied curtly,

“I’ll be fine.”

“Should we leave the weapon here?”

One of them asked, pointing to the bloodied dagger.

Damion motioned for him to leave it.

“It’s fine.”

“Call for us if needed.”

The knight shot one last glare at Stuga before leaving.

As the door shut, Stuga and Jedrick remained where they stood, not moving an inch.

“What... is going on?”

Charlon appeared from the direction of the sleeping quarters, clutching a blanket to cover her chest.

She had likely been woken by the commotion but hadn’t dressed before coming out.

Her white silk nightgown was so thin that even wearing ten layers might not have concealed her completely.

It was hardly appropriate attire for a place filled with men, no matter how separate her quarters were.

Rusef’s excessive concern seemed justified.

“It’s not urgent. Go and dress first,”

Damion said.

Charlon glanced around the room.

Her pale face wasn’t from shock at the murder scene but from something else.

She had been startled by something else, and this sight merely extended her anxiety.

‘Much like me.’

Charlon nodded and returned to her room.

Damion quickly threw more wood into the fire.

As the flames grew larger and noisier, with more smoke filling the air, Charlon returned, dressed.

After confirming the knights were gone and the door securely closed, Damion turned to Stuga.

“Speak now, Stuga. It’s just us here.”

Stuga hesitated.

“If I speak, it could cost all of us our lives.”

“I am the prince! I am the conqueror of this place and the future ruler of it. Who would dare threaten my life or that of ‘my people’ here?”

Damion deliberately emphasized his authority.

‘I’m boasting again. I’m nothing yet...’

Stuga continued to hesitate but finally spoke, his words explaining why he had been so reluctant.

“It’s His Majesty, King Gallant.”

“My father? What about him?”

“You asked who might threaten our lives. It’s King Gallant.”

Damion inhaled sharply.

Charlon clasped her hands tightly, trembling.

She leaned closer to the fire as if cold.

Her fear wasn’t due to the corpse in the room or the revelation that the king was involved.

‘Just like me.’

“It seems we’ve all fallen into a trap,”

Jedrick said, trying to reason with him.

“Speak fully, Stuga. You must. We will decide after hearing it all.”

Damion admired Jedrick’s calm demeanor, though he couldn’t help feeling jealous and resentful.

‘No matter how much I assert my authority as a prince, when he speaks like that, everyone listens.’

Even so, Stuga sought Damion’s final approval before continuing.

Damion appreciated Stuga’s deference and Charlon’s quiet resilience.

He wanted to protect all three of them with his own strength.

“Speak, Stuga. I’ll take responsibility.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Stuga summarized the situation concisely, without embellishment or dramatic flair.

Yet to Damion, his account was more shocking than any poem recited by a bard.

The king had ordered Stuga to assassinate General Terdin.

Stuga, unwilling to comply, avoided showing his skills in front of the king.

In response, the king tested him by arranging a midnight fight against knights.

During the fight, Captain of the Guard Claive lost an eye to Stuga’s blade.

Afterward, the king made his threats clear: kill Terdin and be rewarded with a noble title, or refuse and face death.

This brief account was enough to terrify everyone present.

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When Stuga finished, he said no more.

Though he was still hiding something, Damion didn’t press further.

What he had heard was already overwhelming.

“Does General Terdin know about this?”

Damion asked.

“Yes, I told him last night.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much. It seemed like he already suspected that His Majesty intended to kill him. He only found it strange that I was chosen to carry it out.”

“Of course.”

Terdin had many enemies.

He often said that the royal court was more dangerous than the battlefield.

The general wasn’t a lord with vast lands, nor a soldier commanding many private troops, nor a wealthy man with abundant riches.

Even when this war ended, he would receive a small reward in gold or land but would not become extravagantly rich.

However, he was popular with people.

That was the problem.

The King feared that General Terdin might seek the throne.

“Why did the Royal Guard Captain target Stuga?”

Charlon asked.

“Claive was a proud man,”

Damion said, looking down at the corpse.

“He was incredibly confident in being the kingdom’s finest warrior. Many knights idolized him and lined up to learn his techniques. But he lost, and in front of the King no less, he couldn’t bear it.”

Charlon questioned,

“But would that really drive him to come after someone under the prince’s command? Especially knowing that Stuga was Terdin’s shadow? And in the middle of the night, here, where the prince resides? Shouldn’t he have sought a formal duel to restore his pride?”

Damion didn’t want to admit it could be true.

Claive was the type of knight who recognized no one above him but the King.

At most, he showed minimal courtesy to the Crown Prince to avoid future complications.

He didn’t even consider the Second Prince worth his attention.

As Damion struggled to respond, Jedrick asked,

“Could it be that he came to assassinate you, me, or Charlon?”

Damion’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Why would he? What reason would he have to do such a thing?”

“I don’t know who he is or anything about your court politics. I’m just observing the situation.”

Jedrick pointed at Stuga.

“The only guard here is Stuga. If this man is the kingdom’s finest knight, he could have killed all three of us after taking down Stuga. We were unarmed and asleep, and the other guards were outside.”

“The other guards…”

Damion suddenly realized.

Jedrick nodded.

“Yes. The knights outside let the Royal Guard Captain in without a fuss. And when he was killed, they immediately drew their swords against Stuga and me. Even if he had killed one of us and walked out, they could have easily lied for him.”

“That’s impossible! The kingdom’s knights are absolutely loyal to my orders.”

Damion spoke with conviction but lacked confidence.

“Then ask yourself how Claive managed to get past all those knights and into this room.”

Jedrick’s voice was flat.

“Terdin’s knights didn’t even step aside when a noble like Vadio sought to meet me privately. Yet your knights let the Royal Guard Captain through without hesitation. ‘Absolute loyalty’ doesn’t seem fitting.”

Damion wanted to shout and summon the guards outside.

He wished to make them kneel and berate them for breaking security protocol.

But Charlon intervened before he could.

“Before that…”

The three men turned to her in unison.

She was trembling, her hands dangerously close to the fireplace as if seeking its warmth.

“Are you all… alright?”

Damion belatedly asked after her well-being.

“Are you alright, Charlon?”

She couldn’t bring herself to say she was fine, even out of courtesy.

“I had a nightmare. It was so vivid it felt real. And now I wake up to find someone dead. Is this real, or was it part of the dream? I think it’s because of visiting Hag yesterday.”

Jedrick, surprised, spoke up.

“I had a nightmare too. I didn’t want to admit it out of embarrassment, but I did.”

“That’s strange. I also…”

Damion shook his head and asked,

“What do you mean by ‘because of visiting Hag’?”

“When we entered Hag’s room, there was a strange floral scent. I assumed it was from tea, but she didn’t serve us any. Do you remember?”

“I do. I declined, and it seemed she knew I would, as she didn’t insist on serving any.”

“Isn’t that odd? She could’ve asked before serving, or if she knew we’d refuse, why even set out the teacups? Yet it felt like she was teasing us, setting out cups but not serving tea. And there was a peculiar scent coming from the cups, sweet and fragrant.”

“Was there? And that’s odd to you?”

“Why would empty cups have that smell? Something must have been in them and then removed. Hag even joked about Geronians not washing cups but didn’t wash hers either…”

Damion cautiously asked,

“So, you think that scent is related to the nightmares we had?”

“Not ‘think,’ but… there’s a rumor that witches from Born can control people’s minds with scents. Maybe the shamans here have similar abilities. What do you think, Jedrick?”n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Charlon’s voice lacked confidence.

Jedrick hesitated as well.

“I’ve never heard of Hag controlling dreams. There’s a tale of succubi who invade dreams to drain men’s vitality, but as for Hag…”

“It was powder.”

Suddenly, Stuga spoke.

All eyes turned to him.

He lowered his head, visibly distressed from the earlier fight with Claive.

“Powder? You mean the powder Hak Maraka threw into the fire?”

Damion asked. He vaguely recalled a similar scent.

“It wasn’t the same but similar. However, the scent was much stronger than the powders I’ve encountered before. I didn’t receive a teacup, so I couldn’t smell it directly. There were so many medicinal scents in the room that I dismissed it. But it was more like a floral powder than tea.”

Stuga added cautiously,

“But I’m not certain. There were too many scents…”

Damion turned back to Jedrick.

“And the drink you had? You said it was medicine?”

“I’ve had it several times a year. It didn’t taste or smell unusual.”

Jedrick paused and corrected himself.

“No, to be honest, I’ve never paid attention to the smell in that room before. Until Charlon mentioned it, I didn’t even consider that there might have been a scent.”

“True.”

Until Charlon brought it up, Damion hadn’t connected the nightmares and the scent.

Few would.

“What do you intend to do, Prince? We can’t leave the body here.”

Jedrick was right.

They needed to act quickly.

Time was short.

Dawn was approaching, and Ikarum would soon come for the morning greetings.

Though the knights had been sworn to secrecy, rumors might spread.

Should they summon General Terdin?

The body had to be dealt with first.

Or should they confront the knights about letting someone unauthorized inside?

But Damion felt paralyzed, as if he had forgotten something crucial.

The priorities blurred in his mind.

Then he remembered the most urgent matter.

Of all the pressing issues, this was the most critical.

“If any one of you thinks, ‘This is no time for idle talk,’ we’ll deal with the body immediately. But to me, this seems the most important.”

Damion knew he was pressed for time but couldn’t rush his words.

The three waited patiently for him to finish.

He swallowed hard and said,

“Let’s each talk about the dream we had.”

He braced himself for the three to scoff at the absurdity of the idea.

Talking about dreams amidst this chaos?

But instead of refusing, all three nodded in agreement.

Charlon, especially, looked as though she had been waiting for him to say it.

“Who goes first?”

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