Eve Nightwick's Arc

Chapter 8 of 8

The king sent for the merchant at dawn, and Eve sat in the jeweled chair waiting. She'd spent the night rehearsing what she expected: denials, then excuses, then maybe a bribe offered in desperation. The merchant would beg for mercy, and the king would decide whether to show it. But when the guards brought him in, the merchant didn't kneel. He stood straight and met the king's eyes. The king laid out the evidence: the boats, the crates, the tariffs avoided. Eve waited for the denials to start. Instead, the merchant nodded once and said he'd pay what he owed, plus a penalty for the deception. Then he leaned forward and offered something else. A name. Someone inside the castle had told him about the hidden channel and promised him safe passage if he paid them directly instead of the crown. The merchant operated from a fishing dock on the eastern shore, and he'd been keeping records of every payment. He'd bring them all if the king granted him immunity. Eve's chest tightened. She'd solved one problem and uncovered a larger one. The merchant wasn't the threat. Someone in the castle was selling the king's secrets, and now Eve had to find them. The king looked at her, waiting for her recommendation. She told him to accept the deal and get the records. The merchant bowed and left. Eve sat back in the jeweled chair, feeling its weight differently now. Earning the king's trust meant more than solving problems. It meant inheriting new ones that never ended. The merchant returned that afternoon with a worn scroll tucked under his arm. He spread it across the table in front of Eve, and she recognized the careful markings of secret routes traced across coastline. But written in the margins were dates and amounts, each one matched to a set of initials. The merchant pointed to the most recent entry. The payments had gone to someone who worked in the castle's supply office, someone with access to shipping schedules and coastal maps. The merchant gave Eve the full name, then stepped back and asked if his debt was paid. Eve looked at the king. He nodded, and the merchant left without another word. Eve rolled up the scroll and held it carefully. The king's trust had led her here, to proof that someone close to him had betrayed that trust for coin. She would find them, question them, and help the king decide what justice looked like. But she also understood now that earning trust wasn't a destination. It was a door that kept opening onto harder rooms. She stood and told the king she'd begin the investigation immediately. He thanked her, and she saw something in his expression she hadn't noticed before. Relief. He'd been carrying this alone until she arrived. Now they carried it together.