The investigation revealed the full scope of Quiggin's corruption: embezzlement and theft of royal property spanning more than twenty ministries under her authority.
Several chests brimming with gold were discovered concealed within her private residence.
But the revelations did not end there.
More damning still—
The royal family's official supplier had been her willing accomplice.
→ Duplicate ledgers were maintained.
→ Procurement figures were systematically inflated.
→ The difference was divided between the conspirators.
For years, they had feasted on the Crown's wealth with impunity.
When the Royal Knights descended upon the premises, the company's owner had already vanished—fled into the night with whatever records might have traced the conspiracy further.
The Regent's Private Study
"You lost your composure and the ledgers besides?"
Joaquin Claudio—more commonly known as Duke Claudio, or simply the Prince Regent—made no effort to conceal his displeasure.
Catherine stood rigid beside him, her mortification equally profound.
"The investigators—including the Royal Knights—descended on every palace and residence they could access. They moved with astonishing speed."
"Damnation! Where was Etienne in all of this? What purpose does the Minister of Palace Affairs serve if not to prevent precisely this catastrophe?"
Had the Minister been present, the outcome would have been markedly different. He possessed both the authority and the inclination to silence those involved and bury the entire affair.
"The incident erupted while he remained in seclusion—convinced that the attack near the chapel was an assassination attempt. He refuses to set foot in the palace until the perpetrator is apprehended."
In his absence, the investigation had struck with the force of a tempest.
Duke Claudio had scarcely found time to comprehend what was unfolding before the damage became irreversible.
The Queen Mother and her allies had moved with ruthless efficiency.
The royal trading monopoly was dissolved.
Exclusive supply rights were revoked.
The very mechanisms that had enriched them were systematically dismantled.
"You should have prevented this!"
For the Duke, this loss cut deeper than Quiggin's death itself.
The Black Eye Trading Company had been his clandestine source of funds—a river of gold flowing directly into his private coffers.
The owner fled and laundered the funds through multiple intermediaries. They won't trace it back to me directly.
But that was cold comfort now.
The Duke's expression twisted with bitter frustration.
Not long ago, the rebels had contacted him demanding payment. The gold he had sent them came from the very funds he had used to repurchase Medea's jewels—an expense that should have been easily replenished through Black Eye's operations.
Who could have anticipated this outcome?
There was now a gaping wound in his treasury, and it showed no signs of healing any time soon.
What began as Quiggin's petty scheme to clip the wings of an inconvenient princess had transformed into a typhoon that threatened to engulf them all.
The Duke's head throbbed with mounting pressure.
Catherine bristled at her husband's accusations.
"It unfolded before my very eyes, and I had no opportunity to intervene! How could anyone have predicted that Quiggin would lose all sense of restraint—or that your mother would suddenly wield her authority with such devastating force?"
The Queen Mother had punished everyone connected to the affair. The sword she wielded still carried considerable weight.
Under the pretext of restoring discipline as the senior member of the royal family, her orders carried unassailable legitimacy. No one could openly object.
The Queen Mother's Palace
The Duke's brow furrowed with determination.
"Prepare yourself. I must visit Mother."
With the royal trading system in ruins, the position of Head Maid needed to be filled—and filled with someone amenable to their interests.
He urgently requested an audience with the Queen Mother.
Yet despite his mounting frustration, he failed to recognize a crucial reality: his mother's fury had not yet cooled.
"A new Head Maid? The palace still bleeds from the last appointment you endorsed, and yet you believe personnel matters take precedence over addressing this catastrophe?"
Rather than receiving the gentle reception he anticipated, the Queen Mother delivered a scathing rebuke.
"I acknowledge my failure in placing trust where it was undeserved. I have no defense to offer."
He began with contrition.
The Duke did not fear his aging mother—but her status as Queen Mother made open antagonism inadvisable. Maintaining the appearance of a devoted son who honored his mother had always served him well.
"However, Mother—these are matters of considerable gravity. Surely you might have consulted me before launching raids across the ministries? A more measured approach would have been prudent."
The Queen Mother's expression darkened.
"How much longer should I have waited? Until creatures like Quiggin succeeded in selling the very roof above my head?"
Catherine attempted to salvage the situation.
"This seems rather hasty, Mother. Palace affairs cannot be restructured so abruptly. If we wish to preserve Her Highness's honor, we must allow adequate time for proper preparation..."
Invoking the Princess had always proven a reliable stratagem. They had long perfected their roles as the Duke and Duchess who cherished their niece with exceptional devotion.
> " Catherine. You claimed Quiggin was your childhood companion. Do you truly expect me to believe you perceived nothing of her character across ten years of friendship? "
The Queen Mother's gaze had sharpened to a blade's edge.
"Mother, I was deceived as thoroughly as anyone! Despite our decade of acquaintance, I never imagined she harbored such poison within her heart. After her appointment as Head Maid, I deliberately maintained distance to avoid any appearance of impropriety."
Catherine offered excuses—the demands of her duties as Duchess, the constraints upon her time.
"Indeed. You must have been extraordinarily occupied. So occupied that Birna's paper cut apparently required such urgent attention that the palace physician refused to answer my summons for the Princess."
Each word carried barbs.
"Now then—you and your household will vacate the Cottage House and return to the Duke's estate. I have permitted this arrangement for far too long."
The Queen Mother had intended to address this matter separately, but since the opportunity had presented itself, she seized it.
"Collateral relatives should not reside within palace walls. I, who should have set the proper example, instead violated the strict traditions of this kingdom. Small wonder that some have come to regard the royal family with contempt. It is time to restore proper order."
The moment the word collateral passed her lips, something cold flickered through the Prince Regent's eyes.
Catherine was equally stunned.
Returning to the Duke's estate—was the Queen Mother truly expelling them from the palace?
Those practiced in cunning find openings anywhere.
"Mother, the most senior member of the royal family should indeed serve as an exemplar in all things—but what precisely troubles you? We remain here solely out of concern for your wellbeing."
Catherine concealed her shock beneath layers of honeyed flattery.
"Moreover, once we depart, my thoughts will race ceaselessly with worry—wondering from afar whether Mother has fallen ill, my heart heavy with darkness."
The Queen Mother's expression remained unyielding.
"Catherine. Is it truly concern for my welfare that makes you reluctant to leave these walls?"
"How can you speak such wounding words? Beyond Mother's safety and comfort, what else could I possibly desire within this palace?"
"Indeed, Mother. You know better than anyone the nature of her devotion."
The Queen Mother studied her son and daughter-in-law in prolonged silence.
"Very well. If that is your position, then so be it."
She waved her hand in dismissal.
"My head aches. Leave me now."
It was abundantly clear she had no intention of continuing the conversation.
In the end, Duke Claudio and his wife departed the Queen Mother's Palace empty-handed.
Afterward
"My second son grows too ambitious for comfort."
As the Queen Mother reclined and pressed her fingers to her temples, Baroness Pinatelli offered her warm tea.
"Are you well, Your Majesty?"
"Hyenas. Everywhere I look, nothing but hyenas—circling, waiting for any sign of weakness. This royal palace has become a carcass over which everyone salivates."
Four months of chaos wrought by a woman she herself had endorsed, yet rather than reflection or remorse, they sought only to exploit the situation further.
Her second son—the one she had trusted—proved equally disappointing.
With only wolves remaining in the house the master has vacated, Valdina stands in grave peril.
The Queen Mother released a heavy sigh. She bore no small measure of responsibility for this wretched state of affairs.
"The living must continue living, yet I have wandered too long in fog. How harshly will our ancestors judge this foolish woman?"
The Queen Mother's frown deepened. Then she turned.
"Pinatelli."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"There is no one I can trust save you. Someone who will manage this household with fairness and integrity, uncorrupted by greed."
"Your Majesty's words..."
"Accept the position of Head Maid."
Shock rippled across Baroness Pinatelli's features.
As though this outcome lay entirely beyond her expectations, her habitually composed voice trembled.
"That cannot be, Your Majesty. I swore before God that I would remain at your side and serve you for the remainder of my days. For the position of Head Maid, allow me instead to identify someone suitable who will satisfy Your Majesty's requirements."
"And I swore I would protect you at my side until my final breath. But for Valdina's sake—even God will forgive this breach."
The Queen Mother reached out and clasped Pinatelli's hand.
Since entering palace service at a young age, Pinatelli had remained steadfastly at her side for two decades.
"In all this vast palace, there is no other soul I can trust absolutely—no one else to whom I can entrust such responsibility. Everyone who covets the position of Head Maid seeks only to line their own pockets."
Her voice grew quieter, weighted with exhaustion.
"Even Claudio. My own son."
"Mother, how can you handle such significant matters without consulting me?"
Claudio's arrogant words echoed in her memory. No matter how she examined them, they did not sound like the words of a loyal subject addressing his sovereign.
Joaquin... you are not setting your sights upon a place where you do not belong?
No. My own son could not possibly...
A faint but persistent anxiety threaded through her thoughts.
I must set this house in order. Before my second son entertains any... unnecessary ambitions.
The Reckoning Deepens ## The Wolves Circle Closer
To Be Continued
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