Karl was awakened from sleep. A guard came in to report that Richter had arrived, then helped Karl dress.
At dinner, Charlotte took the initiative to hint that perhaps they could share a bed.
Heaven knew how delighted Karl was. Ever since Charlotte had returned to his side with Klein—especially after the terror of the cliffside night attack—their relationship had been warming again, but moments of such intimacy were still few and far between.
But Karl still refused. There was still a dagger at his throat; he truly was in no mood for it.
Richter entered in dark civilian clothes, dusty from travel. His eyes were bloodshot from staying up all night, yet he was brimming with energy. Clearly, there had been an important breakthrough.
"My lord, forgive me for disturbing you so late at night." Richter bowed slightly.
Karl waved a hand and rubbed his slightly throbbing temples, dispelling the lingering drowsiness. "No matter. Is there news about the 'mole' within our ranks?" His voice carried anticipation, along with a trace of barely perceptible urgency. No one would feel comfortable being watched from the shadows like this.
"Indeed, my lord." Richter's tone was certain. "Albert, the royal steward, has chosen the right path and formally pledged his allegiance to us. He has provided crucial intelligence."
Karl perked up, all sleepiness gone. "Tell me everything."
"According to Albert, the leader who met with him and conveyed the assassination orders was a man using the alias Kale. He and Albert were in single-line contact, and their method of communication was extremely discreet—Albert would place bird feathers of a specific color and type in an inconspicuous crack somewhere along the city wall as a signal, indicating that something had happened or that he needed to meet. Once Kale saw the signal, he