The Duke studied his daughter's face, seeing the fear and uncertainty in her eyes. Eveline was not easily shaken, and for her to express such concern meant that the situation was indeed grave. He took a step closer, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"You've done well to bring this to my attention," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "But you must leave the rest to me. I will uncover the truth of the Prince's actions, and if he is indeed conspiring with the Order of the Veil, I will deal with him."
Eveline nodded, though the worry in her eyes remained. "Please be careful, Father. The Prince… he is not the same man we once knew."
The Duke frowned. "What do you mean?"
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "There's something in his eyes now—a darkness that wasn't there before. I can't explain it, but it's as if he's been touched by something… something unnatural."
The Duke's frown deepened. This was more than he had anticipated. The Prince's behavior, his secretive meetings, and now this change in his demeanor—it all pointed to something far more dangerous than mere political maneuvering.
"Do not worry yourself, Eveline," the Duke said, his tone one of quiet resolve. "I will uncover the truth, and I will protect our family, no matter the cost."
Eveline nodded again, but the tension in her posture did not ease. "I trust you, Father. But promise me you'll be careful. The Prince… he's not to be underestimated."
The Duke smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "I promise, my dear. Now, go and rest. We have much to prepare for in the coming days."
Eveline hesitated for a moment longer before nodding and turning to leave. As she exited the room, the Duke's smile faded, replaced by a look of deep contemplation. He had always prided himself on being a man who could read others, who could anticipate their moves before they even made them. But this—this was different. The Prince was proving to be an enigma, a player in a game whose rules the Duke had yet to fully understand.
He moved back to the window, staring out into the darkness as if it might offer some clue, some insight into the Prince's mind. The cold air bit at his skin, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were consumed by the possibilities, the threats that lay just beyond his grasp.
The parchment in his pocket felt heavy, a reminder of the warning he had received. "Trust no one." The words echoed in his mind, intertwining with Eveline's fears and the mysterious woman's revelations. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together, but the picture they formed was still unclear, and time was running out.
He would need to act soon, to uncover the truth before the Prince could set whatever plans he had in motion. But he couldn't do it alone. He needed allies—trusted ones, who could help him navigate the treacherous waters ahead.
Reaching into his robe, the Duke retrieved the crumpled parchment and smoothed it out on the desk. He stared at the elegant script, the warning it bore, and made a decision. He would summon his most loyal advisors, those who had stood by him through thick and thin, and he would begin his investigation. The Prince's secret could not remain hidden any longer.
But as he prepared to leave the room, a thought struck him—a chilling realization that sent a shiver down his spine. The warning had said, "The Prince is closer than you think." What if that wasn't just a metaphor? What if the Prince had already begun to move against him? What if there was a traitor within his own ranks?
The Duke paused, his hand hovering over the door handle. He had always prided himself on being one step ahead, on seeing through the lies and deceptions of others. But now, for the first time in a long while, he felt a seed of doubt take root in his mind. Could it be that the Prince had already outmaneuvered him?
He shook his head, pushing the thought away. He couldn't afford to second-guess himself now. He would trust his instincts, rely on his experience, and uncover the truth before it was too late.
With renewed resolve, the Duke exited the room, the crumpled parchment still clutched in his hand. The night was cold, but his mind was sharper than ever. The game was afoot, and the Duke was determined to win—no matter the cost.