Chapter 70: The Traitor Within

"Time for your vitamins," Jackson walked into the bedroom holding a glass of water and the bottle of prenatal pills.

Serenity groaned from under the covers. "I hate these pills. They are huge. They taste like chalk."

"They are necessary. Dr. Aris prescribed them specifically for royal pregnancies," Jackson sat on the edge of the bed. He unscrewed the cap.

He poured two pills into his hand.

Then, he stopped.

Jackson narrowed his eyes. He lifted the pills closer to the light.

"What is it?" Serenity asked, seeing his hesitation. "Are they expired?"

"The shade of yellow," Jackson murmured. "Yesterday, they were Lemon Yellow. Today, they are... Mustard Yellow."

"Jackson, please," Serenity rolled her eyes. "It's just a different batch. You are being paranoid."

"I am not paranoid. I am precise," Jackson stood up. "Don't drink the water. Don't touch anything."

He marched out of the room, heading straight for Margaret’s lab (which they had set up in the East Wing).

---

"Mom," Jackson threw the pills onto the microscope slide. "Analyze these. Now."

Margaret was surprised by his sudden entrance, but she saw the darkness in his eyes. She didn't ask questions. She adjusted the lens.

After thirty seconds, Margaret gasped. She stepped back from the scope, her face pale.

"What?" Jackson demanded. "Is it just calcium?"

"It's Wolfsbane," Margaret whispered, looking at her son with horror. "Concentrated extract. In medieval times, it was used to... ensure a queen wouldn't produce an heir."

Jackson felt his blood turn to ice.

Wolfsbane. Poison.
Someone wasn't trying to kill Serenity. They were trying to kill the baby.

"If she had taken this..." Jackson’s voice was barely a sound.

"She would have miscarried by tonight. And she might have suffered permanent damage," Margaret confirmed.

CRACK.

Jackson punched the steel table. The sound echoed like a gunshot.

"Who touched the bottle?" Jackson growled.

"Only the Royal Doctor, Dr. Aris, and the head maid," Margaret said. "But Dr. Aris has served this family for thirty years."

"Trust no one," Jackson pulled out his gun. "Alex!"

He shouted for his son. Alex ran in, holding a tablet.

"I checked the hallway cameras, Dad," Alex said, his face serious. "Look at this."

He played the footage from 10:00 AM. A maid cart was parked outside the bedroom. A hand reached out—wearing a white surgical glove—and swapped the pill bottles on the nightstand.

The figure was wearing a doctor's coat. But his face was obscured by a mask.

"Dr. Aris?" Jackson squinted.

"No," Alex zoomed in on the wrist. "Dr. Aris wears a Rolex. This guy is wearing a cheap digital watch. And look at the shoes. Sneakers."

"An imposter," Jackson realized. "Someone disguised themselves as the doctor to get past the guards."

"Lock the palace," Jackson commanded into his radio. "Complete lockdown. No one leaves. No one enters. Activate the heat sensors."

He turned to Alex and Margaret.

"Stay with Serenity. If anyone knocks on that door and it isn't me... shoot them."

Jackson walked out into the hallway. The aura around him was terrifying. The servants pressed themselves against the walls, too scared to breathe.

He wasn't the Prince Consort anymore. He was the Executioner.

He stormed towards the infirmary. He kicked the door open.

Inside, the real Dr. Aris was tied up and gagged in the closet, unconscious but alive. His white coat was missing.

And the window was open.

Jackson ran to the window. He looked down at the courtyard three stories below.

He saw a figure in a white coat sprinting towards the servant's exit gate.

"You're not getting away," Jackson vaulted over the windowsill.

He didn't take the stairs. He jumped.

He grabbed a drainpipe, slid down two floors, and landed on the grass with a heavy thud. He didn't stop. He sprinted after the runner.

The imposter looked back, saw Jackson chasing him like a demon, and panicked. He scrambled to climb the ivy-covered wall.

He was fast. But Jackson was furious.

Jackson grabbed the man's ankle just as he reached the top. He yanked him down.

The assassin fell, crashing onto the stone path.

Jackson put a boot on his chest, pressing down until the man wheezed.

"Who sent you?" Jackson pointed his gun at the man's head. "The Order?"

The assassin laughed. A bloody, crazy laugh.

"The Order sees everything," the man rasped. "The child... must not replace the Master."

"What Master?" Jackson pressed harder.

The assassin bit down hard.

Crack.

Foam started bubbling from his mouth. Cyanide pill.

"No!" Jackson grabbed his jaw, trying to stop him, but it was too late. The man convulsed once and went limp. Dead.

Jackson stood up, breathing heavily. He looked at the dead body.

They had infiltrated the palace. They had touched his wife's medicine. They had almost killed his unborn child.

He looked up at the looming castle.

The enemy was closer than he thought. And this "Master"... wanted the throne.

---