The night was black as ink, shrouding all of Kete Royal City in deathly silence.
Lights burned through the night in the late king's mourning hall, yet they could not dispel the chill deep within the palace.
Prince Kete escorted his sister back to her chambers and repeatedly instructed the guards to keep the palace gates under strict watch. Only then did he slip away alone under cover of darkness to a secluded, dilapidated side hall behind the palace. Long untended and overgrown with weeds, it looked like a forgotten ruin.
But only the prince knew that this was a contact point for the Royal Guards, established personally by his father years ago.
Following the code he remembered, he tapped the third broken stone brick at the hall entrance three times, gave two long knocks, paused briefly, then tapped once more.
In the stillness of the night, the knocks sounded especially clear.
Only after a long while did an extremely faint sound come from inside.
A concealed door slowly opened a crack. A dark figure darted out like a phantom and knelt on one knee, his voice hushed, carrying long-suppressed excitement and grief:
"Your subordinate Logan, captain of the Royal Guards, pays his respects to Your Highness!"
"Rise." Prince Kete's voice was steady. "This is no place to talk. Let's go inside."
In the cramped, dim secret chamber, a few candles flickered weakly, illuminating faces marked by hardship, grief, and indignation. There were six people in all, every one a core member of the Royal Guards.
"We already know of the late king's passing." Logan clenched his fists, his eyes bloodshot. "That treacherous Chancellor has seized control of the court and sealed the palace gates. We tried several times to force our way in to protect His Majesty, but his