Greyhaven thrummed with quiet tension.
Every corridor, every hall, every shadow seemed alive.
Aren had placed his eyes everywhere.
Merchants, servants, even the palace guards—some willingly loyal, others unknowingly feeding him information.
A single whisper reached him:
There is a spy in your midst.
The revelation pleased him.
Aren did not fear betrayal—he used it.
He called a secret meeting in the cathedral, with Lysa, Caelis, and Tom.
"The spy is clever," he said.
"But cleverness is only useful until the Wolf sees."
Plans were drawn.
Letters marked, routes watched, allegiances tested.
Every courtier was under observation, every servant a potential pawn.
Rowan, desperate, sent envoys to secure loyalty.
One by one, Aren's spies intercepted the messages.
False instructions led envoys astray.
Letters vanished. Plans crumbled before they could take shape.
Aren's shadow moved silently through the palace.
The spy, unaware, delivered information directly into his hands.
Lysa whispered:
"The prince is blind to it. Every step he takes strengthens our position."
"Yes," Aren said softly.
"Fear controls him. Betrayal guides him. And the Wolf waits quietly to strike the final blow."
By dawn, the court was in chaos, unaware that the Wolf's web was tightening around them.
Even the spy had become a tool—unwittingly loyal.
Aren looked out from the cathedral's tower at Greyhaven below.
"Let him act," he said.
"Every move, every secret, every whisper… feeds the Wolf.
And soon, even the crown itself will fall into shadows."