The letter had 'named her'. Had predicted her arrival. Had described the exact circumstances of this conversation down to Baron Hartfield's execution and her dismissal of Count Redwood's sanity.
It was impossible.
Unless—
'Unless Viktor could actually see the future.'
Celeste's mind raced.
She thought back to everything she knew about Viktor. The fat, lazy Son who spent his days buried in books. The disappointing heir who'd never shown aptitude for swordplay or politics. The boy who'd been banished in disgrace just weeks ago.
That Viktor?
'That' Viktor had orchestrated all of this?
Her eyes scanned the letters again. Not reading in detail—she'd already memorized the contents. But processing. Connecting dots.
Viktor had known about the internal feuds between noble houses. Feuds that were buried so deep even the Ktorian intelligence network struggled to track them.
