# Chapter 19
Reyes arrived at the palace two days later with news that changed the shape of everything.
"We found him," he said, without preamble, laying a photograph on the King's desk. "The man who arranged Duval's payments. The man who very likely arranged the shooting as well."
The King leaned forward. Angelo, standing beside Elena, looked at the photograph.
The face was unfamiliar — sharp-featured, unremarkable, the kind of face built to be forgotten.
"Who is he?"
"His name is Viktor Aldana," Reyes said. "Formerly of Valoria's own diplomatic service. Dismissed eight years ago under circumstances that were, at the time, quietly buried to avoid scandal."
"What circumstances?" the King asked.
Reyes hesitated, glancing briefly at Elena before continuing.
"He believed, and apparently still believes, that the monarchy should never have survived the reforms your grandfather introduced," he said. "He has spent the years since his dismissal building relationships with individuals who share that view — some inside Valoria, some beyond its borders, all of them patient enough to wait for a moment of genuine weakness before acting."
"And he found one," the King said quietly. "An aging King. An uncertain heir."
"Yes."
Elena's hand found Angelo's beneath the desk, out of sight, her grip tight.
"Where is he now?" the King asked.
"We don't know," Reyes admitted. "He hasn't been seen in the country in over a month. Which either means he's already fled, believing his usefulness here is finished—"
"Or?" Angelo asked.
Reyes met his eyes.
"Or he's still here," he said, "waiting for one final opportunity before disappearing entirely."
The room fell silent.
"What kind of opportunity?" Elena asked, though from the tightness in her voice, Angelo suspected she already feared the answer.
Reyes looked at the King, then at Marcus, then finally at Elena herself.
"The kind that presents itself," he said carefully, "when an entire royal family gathers in one place, believing themselves finally safe."
Angelo felt something cold settle in his chest.
"The anniversary gala," he said slowly, understanding arriving all at once. "The one your father mentioned last week. The entire family, together, in front of half the country's dignitaries."
The King's face had gone pale.
"It's in eleven days," he said quietly.
Nobody spoke for a long moment.
Then Angelo stood, his expression settling into the same calm, focused stillness Elena had first noticed in him weeks ago, on a roadside in Sanjara, when he had walked toward danger without knowing who he was walking toward.
"Then we have eleven days," he said, "to make sure that whatever Viktor Aldana is planning never has the chance to happen."
Elena looked up at him, fear and something steadier than fear both visible in her eyes.
"Together," she said.
Angelo nodded once.
"Together," he agreed, and outside the study windows, Valoria continued on, unaware that its future was already being decided within those walls, by a soldier who had once simply been passing by, and a princess who had stopped believing, somewhere along the way, that she could face any of it alone.