Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 224 - Two Hundred And Twenty Three

Carlos hesitated. He looked at the dark liquid of the crystal cup in front of him, seeing his own distorted reflection—gaunt, desperate, and frightened. He was a gambler, yes. He was greedy. But murder? The murder of his own brother, the head of the family, the man he had grown up with? It was a line he had never thought to cross.

"But Derek is the Grand Duke," Carlos said, his voice weak and trembling. He looked up at Liam, his eyes pleading for a way out, for a different path. "The King just made him a Commander. He put him in charge of the war. He has the Royal Guard. He has the Thompson Army. He is surrounded by steel and loyalty." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Carlos swallowed hard, his throat dry.

"How could someone like me do anything?" Carlos asked, his voice cracking. "I have no sword. I have no men. I am just... Carlos. The exile."

Liam poured Carlos a fresh cup of wine, filling it to the brim. He did it slowly, the liquid glugging softly, watching the level rise with hypnotic precision.

"I recommended him to the King," Liam said calmly. His voice was smooth, devoid of doubt. "I put him in that position. I even presented a solution to their problem in court—the river barges—to ensure he would take the command. I built the stage for him, Carlos. I built the trap."

He looked at Carlos, his eyes cold and reassuring.

"And you..." Liam said. "I will ensure you have legitimate cause. You will be the one in charge of the river barges. You will be his brother seeking redemption. No one suspects the brother who comes to beg for forgiveness. No one looks twice at the family member who wants to serve."

Liam raised his glass for a toast. The crystal caught the torchlight, gleaming like a star.

Carlos knew what it meant to clink his glass with Liam’s. It was a contract. A blood oath sealed in wine. If he drank, there was no going back. If he refused, he would likely never leave this room alive. The guards at the door were watching. The Prince was watching.

He looked at Liam’s cold, expectant eyes. He thought of Ashlyn’s scorn. He thought of the labor camp, the cold nights, the bleeding hands. He thought of the power he craved, the respect he had never earned.

He settled his resolve. He pushed down the fear and the guilt into a dark corner of his mind.

He raised his own glass to Liam’s.

Clink.

The sound was sharp and final.

"Thank you for the opportunity, Your Highness," Carlos whispered.

Liam watched as Carlos gulped the wine. He drank it fast, swallowing it as if it were stones in his throat, trying to drown his conscience in the vintage.

Liam smiled. It was the smile of a man who had just bought a soul for a bargain price.

"You haven’t eaten, right?" Liam asked, his tone suddenly jovial, the terrifying master replaced by a generous host.

Carlos nodded, wiping wine from his lip. "No, Your Highness. I came straight from the road. I haven’t eaten in two days."

Liam clapped his hands.

Clap-clap.

The heavy double doors at the side of the hall opened. Music drifted in—soft, seductive lute music, weaving a spell of comfort and pleasure.

Half-dressed, beautiful women entered the room. There were four of them. They wore silks that were sheer and vibrant—crimson, gold, and midnight blue. The fabric clung to their curves, leaving little to the imagination.

Their skin was perfumed with jasmine and rose, a scent that instantly filled the room, masking the smell of fear and dust.

They carried silver bowls of exotic fruits—grapes, figs, pomegranates. They carried trays of steaming roasted meats, dripping with savory juices. And they carried bottles of the finest, darkest wine from the royal cellars.

They surrounded Carlos. They were soft. They were warm. They smiled at him with painted lips, their eyes promising everything he had been denied in the mines.

One woman, with dark hair cascading down her back, knelt beside his chair. She placed a hand on his thigh, her fingers warm through his rough trousers.

"My lord looks tired," she purred. She picked up a grape, plump and purple. She held it to his lips. "Let me feed you."

Carlos opened his mouth. The grape burst on his tongue, sweet and cool.

Another woman, this one with golden hair, moved behind him. She began to massage his shoulders, her hands working the knots of tension. She leaned down, her breasts pressing against his back, her breath warm on his neck.

"Relax, my lord," she whispered. "You are safe here. You are honored here."

Liam bellowed to the women, his voice booming over the music.

"Take good care of Lord Carlos!" Liam ordered. "He is a guest of honor. See to it that all of his needs are met. Food, drink... and comfort. He has a long journey ahead of him."

He stood up. He looked down at Carlos, who was already being fed a piece of meat by the woman with dark eyes. Carlos looked overwhelmed, his eyes glazing over with lust and relief. He was a man starved of pleasure, and now he was drowning in it.

The women pressed closer. One poured wine directly into his mouth. Another ran her hand through his dirty hair. They laughed, a bright, chiming sound.

Carlos laughed too. It was a loud, desperate sound, trying to lose himself in the pleasure, trying to forget the brother he had just promised to kill.

Liam turned and walked away. He left the main hall, walking into the shadows of the corridor, leaving the sinner to his feast.

The women entertained Carlos. They fed him until he was full. They poured him wine until his head spun. They pressed their bodies against his, distracting him from the terrible promise he had just made.

"More wine, my lord?" the dark-haired woman asked, her hand sliding up his chest, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Yes," Carlos slurred, grabbing her waist. "More. More of everything."

Liam stood afar, in a darkened gallery overlooking the hall. He leaned on the stone railing, watching the scene below with cold detachment. He watched Carlos succumb to his vices. He watched a weak man being bought with flesh and wine.

He raised his hand. He signaled with his fingers.

Snap.

A shadow moved beside him. Brooke, his silent aide, stepped out of the darkness.

"Your Highness," Brooke said.

Liam spoke without looking at him. His eyes were fixed on Carlos, who was now pulling the naked golden-haired woman onto his lap, taking her nipples into his mouth while the other three take turns to please him. Their moans filling the room.

"Have someone watch him," Liam ordered. "Put a man in his retinue. A shadow. Someone who can blend in with the soldiers."

Liam’s eyes narrowed.

"And make sure he does what he is supposed to do," Liam said. "If he falters... if he tries to run... if he gets cold feet on the battlefield..."

He paused.

"Kill him," Liam said. "And make it look like Derek did it. Make it look like a brother’s betrayal."

Brooke bowed. "Yes, Your Highness."

Brooke turned and left, moving to execute the order.

Liam smiled. He looked down at the feast one last time.