Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 319 - Three Hundred And Eighteen

Derek walked out of the heavy double doors of the drawing room. The terrible screams of his brother Carlos were muffled as the doors closed behind him, but Derek did not care. His mind was already miles away. His mind was with Marissa.

He walked fast down the long corridor and pushed open the front doors of the main house. The freezing night air hit his face like a physical blow.

As Derek got to the stone courtyard, he yelled. His voice was loud, tearing through the quiet night.

"Ready my horse!" Derek shouted toward the stables. "Now!"

The stable hands were startled. They dropped their tools and immediately ran to do as they were told. They grabbed saddles and bridles, rushing to prepare the Duke’s fastest mare.

Derek stood on the top step of the courtyard. He took a deep, shaky breath. The air was bitterly cold. He looked up at the dark night sky.

Small, white flakes were falling from the black clouds. It was snowing. The tiny snowflakes landed on his dark cloak and melted against his warm skin. The winter was supposed to be ending, but tonight, the cold felt sharper than ever. It matched the freezing fear in his chest.

Footsteps crunched on the stone behind him. It was Ian. The aide had followed him out of the house. Ian’s face was pale, and his jaw was clenched tight. He knew what Derek was planning to do.

Ian stepped in front of Derek, blocking his path to the stables.

"Your Grace, please don’t go," Ian spoke. His voice was respectful, but it was filled with deep worry. "This is exactly what he wants. This could be a trap from Prince Liam. He is waiting for you."

Derek looked at his trusted friend. He knew Ian was right. Prince Liam was a coward, but he was a smart coward. Kidnapping Marissa was bait. Liam wanted Derek to rush into his residence alone, blind with anger. It was a perfect trap.

But Derek did not care.

"The Shadows can retrieve Her Grace," Ian pleaded, taking a step closer. "Let me take our best men. We can sneak into the Prince’s residence. We can move through the dark. We will find her and bring her back safely. You do not have to risk your life."

Derek shook his head slowly. He could not sit in his safe house and wait while Marissa was in the hands of a monster. He could not trust her life to anyone else, not even his best men. If Liam saw the Shadows, he might kill her instantly. Derek had to face Liam himself.

He turned away from Ian. He looked toward the open doors of the house.

"Butler!" Derek called out loudly.

The old butler, who had been watching nervously from the hallway, rushed out into the cold courtyard. He bowed. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"Bring me a fresh ledger," Derek ordered quickly. "And a quill. And a bottle of black ink. Bring them here immediately."

The butler did not ask questions. He bowed again and hurried back inside.

Ian watched Derek in confusion. "Your Grace, please," Ian begged again, his voice cracking slightly. "Listen to reason. If you die tonight, Eudora will fall to a tyrant."

Derek ignored the plea. He walked over to a flat wooden barrel that sat near the courtyard steps. He waited in silence. The snow fell harder, dusting his dark hair with white powder. His heart pounded against his ribs, but his hands were steady. He had to be smart. He could not let Liam destroy the evidence of his treason.

A minute later, the butler returned. He was running. He handed Derek a thick, blank ledger with a leather cover. He handed him a sharp feather quill and a small glass bottle of ink.

"Thank you," Derek said. He dismissed the butler with a nod.

Derek placed the blank ledger on top of the wooden barrel. He reached inside his heavy cloak and pulled out the thick bundle of papers that Captain Nigel had given him. These were the original letters, the solid proof of Prince Liam’s treason and his deal with the enemy.

Derek opened the bottle of ink. He dipped the quill into it.

He opened the blank ledger and began to write. He copied the contents of the evidence into the new ledger. His handwriting was usually very neat and elegant, but tonight it was fast and sharp. He wrote down the most important names. He wrote down the dates of the secret meetings. He copied the exact amounts of gold that were sent to the western rebels.

He worked quickly, ignoring the freezing cold that made his fingers stiff. He ignored the snow that fell onto the paper, carefully wiping away the water drops before they could ruin the ink. He needed a backup. He needed his own copy of the truth to throw in Liam’s face.

Ian stood beside him, watching the quill scratch across the paper. Ian finally understood what Derek was doing. Derek was preparing for his own death. He was making sure that even if he did not survive the night, the mission would not fail.

After several tense minutes, Derek was done. He closed the new ledger and tucked it into his belt. He placed the cap back on the ink bottle.

He gave the ink and the quill back to the butler, who was standing nearby.

Then, Derek turned to face Ian.

Derek held out the thick bundle of original papers. They were wrapped tightly and sealed.

"Here is the evidence," Derek said softly. His voice was completely calm now. The anger was gone, replaced by a quiet, deadly resolve.

He handed Ian the original copy of the ledger and the secret letters.

Ian took the bundle carefully. He held it against his chest as if it were a newborn child. He knew how much blood had been spilled for these papers.

Then, Derek reached into his coat pocket one last time. He pulled out a heavy object. It was made of solid gold. It was a large coin, stamped with the roaring lion crest of the Thompson family.

It was the Duke’s token. It gave the person holding it the absolute authority to command the Thompson army, access the family vaults, and speak with the voice of the Grand Duke.

"And this," Derek said, holding the gold token out in his open palm, "is my token."

Ian’s eyes widened in shock. He took a step back, shaking his head. Giving away the token meant Derek was passing on his power.

"Take it," Derek ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Ian slowly reached out with a trembling hand. He took the heavy gold token from Derek. The metal was cold, but it felt like it was burning his skin.

Derek looked Ian straight in the eyes.

"It will grant you quick access to the king. Escort Captain Nigel and the evidence to the palace," Derek instructed clearly, making sure Ian memorized every single word. "Tomorrow morning, as soon as the sun rises and the court opens, you will march into the throne room. Present all the evidence of the crimes of Prince Liam and his associates directly to His Majesty."

Ian swallowed hard. "Yes, Your Grace."

Derek took a step forward. He reached out and placed his large hand firmly on Ian’s shoulder. He gripped the dark fabric of Ian’s cloak.

"We have endured humiliation for years," Derek said. His voice was thick with emotion and memory. "We played the fools. We hid our strength. We swallowed our pride to find justice for the death of the Thompson army."

Derek looked past Ian, staring into the dark, snowy night as if he could see the ghosts of his fallen soldiers.

"For our brothers in arms," Derek continued softly. "And for my own brother."

He squeezed Ian’s shoulder tightly, grounding them both in the reality of their mission.

"After completing this mission tomorrow," Derek said, looking back into Ian’s pale gray eyes, "signal me. Send the red flare into the sky."

Derek paused. He took a deep, shaky breath. The next words were the hardest he had ever spoken.

"If I don’t come back," Derek said. His voice did not break, but his eyes showed his deep sorrow.

Ian closed his eyes for a second, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. "Your Grace..."

"If I don’t come back," Derek repeated firmly, "I want you to lead the Elite Shadows. You are their commander now."

He let go of Ian’s shoulder and looked at him with absolute trust.

"Swear your loyalty to Ryan as the new Grand Duke and give him the token," Derek ordered. Ryan, his young nephew, the only other male heir of the Thompson line. "Guide him. Teach him. And protect the Thompsons from harm. Protect my grandmother. Keep them safe."

Derek did not wait for Ian to salute. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the shadow guard.

He hugged Ian. It was a strong, fierce embrace between two men who had fought side by side for years. They were master and servant, but they were also brothers forged in the fires of war and secrecy.

Ian hugged him back tightly. His hands gripped the back of Derek’s cloak.

"Your Grace..." Ian spoke, his voice finally breaking. He could not hide his grief. "I will do as you command. But please, come back to us."

Derek pulled away from the hug. He gave Ian a small, brave smile.

At that moment, the stable hand ran up to the courtyard leading a massive, beautiful black mare. The horse was saddled and ready. She blew hot air from her nostrils, stomping her hooves impatiently on the cold stone.

Derek turned away from Ian. He walked toward the horse.

He grabbed the saddle horn and easily swung his tall body up onto the horse’s back. He settled into the saddle, grabbing the leather reins. The horse shifted her weight, eager to run.

Derek looked down at Ian, who was standing in the snow, holding the evidence and the gold token.

"Marissa is my life," Derek said. His voice was no longer that of a Duke or a commander. It was the voice of a desperate husband. "I vowed to protect her. When I married her, I promised to keep her safe from all the monsters in this world."

Derek tightened his grip on the reins. His dark eyes turned toward the direction of Prince Liam’s estate.

"And that is exactly what I intend to do," Derek declared.

He leaned forward in the saddle. He raised his boots and kicked the sides of his mare hard.

"Hyah!!!" Derek shouted.

The black mare reared back slightly, then launched forward into a full, explosive gallop. Her metal horseshoes struck the stone courtyard, striking bright orange sparks into the snowy night.

Derek did not look back. He rode out of the open iron gates of the Thompson estate. The cold wind whipped his dark cloak behind him like a pair of black wings. His mare rode incredibly fast, disappearing into the dead of night, heading straight into the trap at Prince Liam’s residence to save the woman he love.