CHAPTER 5 — The King Who Attended His Own Funeral
Evelyn read the letter three times before she could breathe again.
Her mother’s handwriting was unmistakable.
"If you are reading this, they convinced the world your father was dead. They lied. They buried another man in his place. Trust no one... except the man carrying the Phoenix Seal."
Margaret looked up in disbelief.
"Your father... is alive?"
Father Thomas slowly nodded.
"I've kept this secret for twenty-three years."
"He ordered me to protect these documents until the day his daughter returned from the dead."
Before anyone could speak again—
BOOM!
The monastery doors exploded inward.
Masked soldiers stormed inside, dressed in black tactical gear.
"Search every room!"
"Leave no survivors!"
Adrian had found them.
Father Thomas quickly pressed a hidden stone in the chapel wall.
A massive bookshelf slid aside, revealing a narrow underground passage.
"Go!" he shouted.
"I'll hold them off."
"No!" Evelyn cried.
But the old priest smiled.
"I promised your father I'd protect his little girl."
As Margaret pulled Evelyn into the tunnel, Father Thomas closed the secret door behind them.
Seconds later, gunshots echoed through the monastery.
Then...
Silence.
Tears filled Evelyn's eyes.
Another innocent life had been sacrificed because of her.
Hours later, the tunnel led to an abandoned railway station deep beneath the capital.
Dust covered everything.
Rusted trains sat motionless in the darkness.
Suddenly, a single light turned on.
An old man stepped from the shadows wearing a worn gray coat and carrying a wooden cane.
His face was hidden beneath a hood.
"You took longer than expected," he said calmly.
Margaret instinctively stepped in front of Evelyn.
"Who are you?"
The old man ignored her.
Instead, he looked directly at Evelyn.
"When you were six years old..."
"You fell into the palace lake."
"You cried because your favorite white horse ran away."
Evelyn froze.
No one else knew that story.
The old man slowly removed his hood.
Gray hair.
Deep scars across his face.
But the same piercing blue eyes she had seen in every childhood photograph.
"D...Dad?"
King Alexander smiled through tears.
"My little princess."
Evelyn ran into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
For twenty years, she had mourned a father who had never truly died.
When they finally pulled apart, Alexander's expression became deadly serious.
"Adrian is only a puppet."
"What do you mean?"
"The man trying to steal the throne..."
"...isn't your greatest enemy."
He handed Evelyn a faded photograph taken decades earlier.
Standing beside a young Adrian was a woman Evelyn recognized instantly.
Her own mother.
But another man stood beside them, smiling proudly.
Alexander pointed at the stranger.
"This man created everything."
"He ordered my assassination."
"He raised Adrian."
"He poisoned your mother."
"And tomorrow..."
"He's being crowned as the new Regent."
Evelyn's heart pounded.
"Who is he?"
Alexander answered with a name the kingdom had honored for decades.
A name carved into schools, hospitals, and monuments.
"Lord Benjamin Ashcroft..."
May you like
"...your godfather."
To be continued...
