Warrior's Serenade

Chapter 1238

In the end, Malcolm left.

Watching his retreating figure, Carissa couldn't help but think how far he had fallen from the confident, imposing

official he used to be. He hadn't seemed this defeated even after the scandal about his mistress. Now, it was as

if the weight of the world had struck him down, leaving him utterly broken.

Though she stepped outside for a brief walk, exhaustion did not settle over her. Instead, she called for Michael to

cspeak with her.

"Your Grace, you can return hnow. | can manage things here," Michael said.

"It's fine. It's already three in the morning," Carissa replied. "Better to avoid any complications. There are several

prominent families outside, and sof them can cause trouble without a second thought. You won't be able to

handle it. Plus, His Majesty never intended for them to make a public spectacle. If things get too out of hand and

those detained get dragged out one by one, it'll be hard to explain to His Majesty." "That's true," Michael agreed,

nodding in understanding.

The next day, neither Malcolm nor Carissa could move fast enough-the Marquis of Glandale was ahead of them.

Fabian entered the room carrying thorn branches on his back as a sign of his submission, then began to weep.

He claimed that the gentlemen's retreats were originally Eleanor's. After her downfall, he had planned to shut

them down, but had continued to operate them at Gerald's suggestion.

Essentially, Fabian had turned around and cast Gerald to the wolves.

He chose the path that would offend the Quinton family the most because he knew about the spies from

Sandoria. He understood that someone had to take the fall for this, and it was clearly going to be him. The only

way to save himself and his family was to drag Gerald down with him.

However, the cost was high-he had effectively ruined any chance of repairing relations with the Quinton family.

But now, with Fabian's confession, Gerald was no longer just a guest at the gentlemen's retreat-he was also the

reason the establishments had continued to function. This new spin on the story would change things.

As Salvador was mindful of Sigmund's reputation, he would likely try to downplay this incident.

When Malcolm entered the palace, he was met with Salvador's fury. A heavy inkpot flew toward him, landing with

a thud against his thick clothing. It wasn't painful, but the impact was enough to make his legs buckle, and he

fell to his knees with a thud.

"Your Majesty, please forgive me!" he cried out.

He still didn't know exactly what Fabian had said. But seeing the man kneeling outside with his thorn branches,

Malcolm could guess that the truth about Gerald's visits to the gentlemen's retreat had cout.

"My dad was momentarily confused, Your Majesty. Please forgive him," he pleaded.

"This is utterly ridiculous! Outrageous!" Salvador seethed, barely able to contain his anger. "The Quinton family

isn't just confused, you've gone too far! I've been lenient with you tand tagain, turning a blind eye to

many things, yet you dare to take on Eleanor's business? The gentlemen's retreats housed Sandorian spies,

whom you've been sheltering for years!"

Terrified and shaken, Malcolm didn't fully grasp Salvador's words. He could do nothing but continue to kneel in

apology.

Derek entered, delivering the news that Carissa was waiting outside for orders.

Salvador's anger simmered down slightly as he snapped at Malcolm, "Go outside and kneel. Don't dirty my eyes

any further."

The word "dirty" struck Malcolm like a physical blow. Humiliated and furious, he crawled and stumbled out,

joining Fabian on the floor outside.

Carissa entered the hall and knelt on one knee. "Greetings, Your Majesty."

"Rise," Salvador said, his voice still cold.

The purpose behind his order to sweep the gentlemen's retreats had been to find the Sandorian spies and to

serve as a warning to the officials and noble families. He hadn't expected that in the process, he would uncover

that a royal tutor was involved.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Carissa stood after her brief acknowledgement and remained silent, hands clasped behind her back. "You knew

about Lord Gerald's visits to the gentlemen's retreat, didn't you?" Salvador asked, his sharp gaze bearing into

her, as though accusing her of withholding the truth.

Carissa met his gaze calmly and admitted, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Then, why didn't you report it?" Salvador demanded.

"Your Majesty, | believed he wouldn't

go last night, as he had already visited a few days ago. If he hadn't gone, neither you nor anyone else would

have found out about his visits With that, the gentlemen's retreats would never be connected to him. Also, |

believed that you would prefer not to know, Your Majesty," Carissa answered steadily.

Salvador paused. He certainly hadn't wanted to know, and it would have been far easier to simply ignore the

situation. He would have gladly washed his ears clean, pretending he had never heard of it.

But then, Salvador recalled Fabian's words and snapped, "How could you not know? Lord Fabian says it was Lord

Gerald who told him to keep the gentlemen's retreats running. Didn't you investigate that?" Carissa looked up in

surprise, meeting Salvador's cold, angry gaze. She couldn't help but think that Fabian was either clever or

foolish.

"That's.... | don't know, and | didn't investigate," she said.

"You couldn't have investigated? It seems your abilities are lacking after all," Salvador snapped, lashing out at

seemingly anyone in his path as his temper flared.

Carissa lowered her head in a

vels

posture of feigned humility. But inside, she couldn't help but wonder hadn't Salvador considered that Fabian

might have lied, intentionally dragging Geraldinto this mess?

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