Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

Chapter 290: Jealousy And Conspiracy



Markus, he'd seen many kingdoms rise and fall, and being a knight–once of light yet now of dark, he'd served them until the last brick of their castle turned to dust. And now, even though Athenia was in competent hands, he felt a strange sense of nostalgia–and it wasn't one that he liked.

'Another kingdom on the cusp of greatness, but could easily be headed for ruin thanks to this jealous woman.' In a private council with Milo, Markus's eyes kept turning to Viola from behind his helmet. He knew she was linked to the king, and the surety of his survival past her unfortunately and untimely death would be in sure jeopardy.

'Maria waited until her husband's death for the throne, she was patient once, but I doubt that's not the case anymore.'

An attempt at Viola's life was imminent, and the dark knight of Athenian kings wanted to ensure that he wouldn't let that happen.

"What are you even suggesting, Markus?" Milo heaved, his heart heavy from what he'd just heard from the dark knight.

As the knight lifted his head to match the concerned king's gaze, his armor rattled and screeched from within with the sounds of distant screams–nearly inaudible to anyone but the snow spirit.

"I'd wager you're already aware of your mother's mishandlings with our late king," holding his gaze until Milo nodded hesitantly, Markus continued. "I suspect she'll try her hand on your…"

Not sure what to refer to Viola as in relation to the king, Markus held his tongue and took a moment to think it over.

"I suppose your lover; for now she'll be the target of your mother's shameful tactic," though the topic was dire, hearing someone else calling her Milo's lover spread a light blush across Viola's cheeks. Find exclusive tales at m-vl-em,pyr

"How do we deal with her then? Again, what are you suggesting?" Milo on the other hand wasn't as flustered, after all, his lover's life hung in balance and he wanted to ensure that not a single hair on her body was struck with a blade.

"We have a few choices," shifting back to Milo, Markus leaned forward in his chair with his fingertips pressed together. "Silent execution, casting her out of the castle, confinement, or if you'd like a mysterious disappearance–a kidnapping that she never gets recovered from."

Nothing sounded savory, every word from Markus left a foul taste in Milo's mouth. He didn't love Maria, nor did he think of her as his mother anymore, but even so, he'd never thought he'd be forced to do anything of the sort to her. But his chances were thin, she knew more people and had more influence in places that he wished to withdraw power from.

'The maze, the black market, and goddess knows how many more hellish trades she's involved in.' It would be far too easy for Maria to carry out Viola's murder, much easier than Milo trying to do the same to her–that is unless he had exceptional help, and Markus was there to provide just that.

"I…" Even though he'd never loved her as a mother, condemning her to such a cruel fate wasn't something that he could, at least not yet.

"A loose tongue will cost you, but one held too tight will be more dire, young king," Markus advised against Inaction, his eyes burning green through his visor.

The dark knight's blade was ready so were his wits, making a queen disappear would be a mundane task for him, but doing so against his king's wishes, was not something he wished to do. Once a servant to an emperor, then a god, and then countless kings, his very core was of servitude, not because he was bound in some way, but because he felt it was his calling.

"A spirit to a spirit…" Storming past her hesitance, Viola finally decided to speak up. And as she got everyone's attention on her, she uttered something that neither of them expected. "The man who encharmed her; she seemed rather fond of him. What if we somehow convince her to leave? Or bribe the hero to take her away from the castle?"

The idea wasn't too far-fetched, especially since her liking for Raven was no more a mystery than her husband's death to the public. The dark mage could easily draw her away from politics, but was it such a bright idea to send her away with a man treading through such a treacherous path?

"Not too bad of an idea," Markus muttered, although not entirely convinced just yet.

Milo on the other hand, still wasn't sure if it was the choice, however, thinking back to what Markus suggested, it was certainly better than any of it.

"Well if it's decided, I'd like to bring up another topic in dire need of discussion," looking at Milo again, Markus waited to see if the young king still wanted to discuss the matter further, however, when he just simply nodded, the dark knight pushed another matter forward.

"The nobleman whose son Princess Tia is to be wedded hasn't been to any of the recent council meetings, I suspect something's afoot, especially with your mother being the one who'd chosen him. Marry it to the fact that he never missed a meeting while Queen Maria was on the throne, this sudden shift in attendance has me worried."

Leaning his head to the side with a hint of suspicion on his face, Milo pressed a finger on his lip and thought the matter over for a few seconds.

"You suspect treason?" He asked, and Markus grumbled in agreement.

Holding his hand forward, the knight gripped his fingers into a quivering fist.

"Allow me to decimate his lineage, I'll bring you their ashes if there's any left," it had been far too long since Markus had unleashed his fury. He was aching to wreak havoc, and although not as powerful in brute force as Helga, he was known as the dark knight for a reason.

"Investigate if your suspicions are true and if they are…" Instead of completing his deadly sentence, Milo nodded to convey the message to Markus.

Hiding a smile behind that helmet, the dark knight rose to his feet–ready to leave the king's chambers and find out how many people he needed to kill.

"Doom awaits your enemies my lord, and I shall be their herald to Styx." Gripping his darkened spear with purpose, Markus finally left the lovers alone–just as concerned as the men he would soon be hunting.


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