Loyalty rewarded with poison. Trust repaid with betrayal. Yet from death's embrace, a new allegiance is born.
"The poison takes a bit longer to work its way through the system."
The Emperor's gaze drifted casually to the teacup on the table.
Kensington couldn't process what he was hearing.
Impossible. This cannot be happening.
Even as blood began trickling from the corner of his mouth, even as excruciating pain radiated from his heart throughout his entire body—he couldn't accept the reality unfolding before him.
He had thought the Emperor's harsh treatment of Jason was merely a warning—a pointed reminder of imperial power directed at his most loyal servant as well.
He hadn't imagined that something far more cruel awaited him.
"Your Majesty! I am your hand, your eyes! How—how can you do this to me—"
The words dissolved into choking gasps.
Kensington reached out in desperate appeal, his loyalty betrayed beyond comprehension.
He had devoted his entire existence to building an intelligence network spanning the continent. His hands were stained with countless deaths carried out in shadow. He had refused all glory, calling himself nothing more than a"dirty cleaner," content to operate from darkness.
All for Perdiccas II. All for his master.
Jealousy and ambition might serve the wrong master, but Kensington had believed that embracing them made him a better subject—more useful, more devoted.
Since Perdiccas II had been a mere prince, Kensington had stood at his side. He had believed—foolishly, it seemed now—that the bond forged over those long decades resided in the Emperor's heart as surely as it did in his own.
Just as he had struggled to turn away from the Princess of Valdina's extended hand, Kensington had believed the Emperor still harbored feelings of loyalty toward his subject—sentiments not easily discarded.
He had never imagined being cast aside like this.
"That's your mistake, Kensington. You're merely a component—replaceable whenever I deem it worn out. How long should I tolerate your arrogance in presuming yourself indispensable?"
The Emperor kicked Kensington's outstretched hand away with contempt.
"The Red Fox Corps grew to this magnitude only through my approval. Therefore it belongs to *me*—not to you!"
"No, no, please—"
"Tell me, Kensington—what were you planning with your precious network? Were you hoarding it, threatening me, waiting for the opportune moment to betray me and offer it to someone else?!"
The Emperor's roar sounded less human than bestial. His golden staff struck Kensington's body with savage force.
The sickening crack of metal shattering bone echoed through the office.
But the Emperor wasn't satisfied. He raised the staff high, aiming for Kensington's skull—
Then stopped, breathing heavily, hands trembling. He hurled the bloodied cane aside, unable to bear even looking at it.
"You've outlived your usefulness. It's time for generational change. Time to drain the stagnant water and pour fresh."
Perdiccas II was a hunter at his core. That was how he had seized this throne.
The law of the wilderness—kill or be killed—applied equally within Katzen's imperial palace. During the brutal struggle for succession, Kensington's assistance had been desperately needed. But now, decades after that victory, the spy master had become a dangerous liability—a second power center causing instability.
Eliminating such a meritorious subject who had labored for the throne would normally be difficult, given the dishonor already attached to usurping his nephew's rightful inheritance.
Which was precisely why this situation presented such an excellent opportunity.
He could wash his hands of all the Valdinian delegation's failures by placing the blame squarely on Kensington's shoulders.
"Be... tray... al..."
Kensington tried desperately to move his stiffening tongue, but coherent speech eluded him.
The Princess's voice echoed through his fading consciousness.
"Will your loyalty remain valid even if you die at the Emperor's hands?"
His body went rigid. With a heavy thud, he collapsed onto the marble floor.
"How tragic that Count Kensington felt such overwhelming responsibility for recent failures that he took his own life."
Perdiccas II spoke with solemn gravity, gazing down at Kensington's dying form. His eyes gleamed with cruelty.
"I have decided to respect this loyal servant's final choice. Announce Kensington's death and honor his... sacrifice."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The Chamberlain bowed his head with practiced deference.
*Tsk.*
As though his business had concluded, the Emperor clicked his tongue once. Then he swept past Kensington's collapsed form, robes billowing dramatically.
Left alone in the office, the elderly Chamberlain paid a brief moment of silence to the fallen spy master.
"I'm sorry, Count. Please understand—there was nothing I could do."
✦That evening, a cart laden with bales of straw departed the palace grounds.
It traveled through Persepolis's winding streets until it reached the deep river flowing through Katzen's capital city.
On a deserted riverbank, shadowed figures extracted Kensington's body from beneath the straw and transferred it onto a crude wooden raft.
*WHOOSH!*
Flames erupted as they set the raft ablaze.
It was a simple funeral, hastily arranged despite the risk—prepared by the Chamberlain out of what little mercy remained in his heart.
Firelight illuminated Kensington's face, frozen in shock. His eyes remained wide open, bloodshot with resentment, terrible to behold.
The current carried the flaming raft downstream.
"Let's go."
The men who had watched the receding flames turned and melted into darkness.
Time passed. How long, none could say.
As black river water rippled silently under moonlight, a noiseless boat approached the burning raft through the darkness.
*Splash!*
A figure plunged into the water, lifted Kensington's body with surprising strength, and hauled it aboard the vessel. The empty raft was released to continue its journey downstream.
The crimson fireball drifted back into the calm current as though nothing had disturbed it.
*SPLASH!*
The rescuer lifted a bucket and dumped river water over Kensington's pale, lifeless form.
Again—*SPLASH!*
Kensington sat bolt upright, gasping violently as water streamed down his face.
"AAAGH—!"
"If you're awake, drink this."
The rescuer offered a jug of clean water with almost cheerful nonchalance.
Kensington looked up, disoriented. A freckled young man gazed down at him.
A sense of unfamiliarity warring with recognition washed over him. Then his expression twisted with sudden understanding.
"A Red Fox—!"
'My colleagues risked this...'
'If the Emperor moves against me, he won't stop with me alone.'
The Red Foxes followed Kensington's orders exclusively. Even the Emperor had failed to persuade or control them.
Perdiccas II's paranoid nature would drive him to burn the entire organization rather than tolerate their disobedience.
At that moment, the young stranger winked reassuringly.
"We've already relocated to a secure location. Everyone's waiting for you, Count."
"What—"
A familiar face appeared behind the youth. Umberto.
"Her Highness, the Princess of Valdina, sent word. She included a message instructing us to evacuate all operatives if you failed to return from the palace."
Initially, Umberto hadn't believed the warning. But somehow, he'd felt uneasy. The Princess of Valdina had never been wrong before.
"So I triggered the white flag protocol. Everyone escaped before the Emperor's knights breached our safehouses. The Red Foxes are safe."
A tear slid down Kensington's weathered cheek at Umberto's words.
Simultaneously, fresh blood trickled from between his clenched teeth.
If not for the protective stone the Princess had given him, he would have died from the poison the Emperor administered.
Kensington had swallowed that mysterious stone before his audience with the Emperor.
Does that mean I, who didn't trust my lord, was the first betrayer?
And yet... didn't the Emperor who ultimately discarded me commit the true betrayal?
"Ha... haha... HAHAHAHA!"
A strange, hollow laugh erupted from Kensington's throat.
It sounded less like mirth than a scream being dragged up from unfathomable depths.
Both Tom and Umberto remained silent, allowing Kensington to process his shattered world.
Finally, Kensington raised his head. The dried tear stains on his face gleamed bleakly in the moonlight.
"I should go to Valdina."
"Yes. You won't regret it."
Tom's lips curved into a satisfied smile.
"But first, I must visit the Holy Kingdom. The Red Fox Corps' true headquarters is located there."
"Not in Persepolis?"
"I established it there in case Katzen fell under attack—or in case I died. No one would think to search for us in the shadow of our enemy, the Holy Kingdom. The darkest place is always beneath the lamp."
A contingency plan ensuring that even if Kensington perished, the Red Foxes could continue their operations.
Even Perdiccas II had never known the organization's true size or location.
The loyalty Kensington had offered the Emperor had been the shield that would keep the empire among the continent's great powers for generations.
And now...
As he turned from the road he'd run down without pause for decades, Kensington's eyes burned with newfound purpose.
"Yes. I will go to the Princess."
His old master had burned every bridge down to ash. Now, nothing held him back.
The boat carrying Kensington and his loyal operatives slipped silently downstream, leaving behind the flaming raft that would convince the world of his death.
Behind them, the imperial palace gleamed in the distance—a monument to power built on treachery and maintained through betrayal.
Ahead lay Valdina, where a young princess with uncanny foresight had saved his life before he'd even known it needed saving.
The Emperor had taught him a final, bitter lesson: in the game of empires, loyalty was the most dangerous currency of all.
But Kensington had learned another truth tonight.
Sometimes, the wisest choice was knowing when to change sides.
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