Warrior's Serenade

Chapter 1233

Staring at the steaming coffee, Malcolm had no desire to drink it. It didn't matter that his throat was dry and his

mouth felt like it was on fire.

Noticing that Carissa didn't respond to his mention of Gracewood Women's Academy, his eyes shifted. "I've

heard that His Highness has a few capable men around him. Perhaps | could recommend someone..."

Carissa raised her hand to stop him. "Lord Malcolm, let's not stray from the topic. Rest assured, Lord Gerald's

identity hasn't been revealed to anyone. When he left the gentlemen's retreat, | covered his head with a cloth.

Even now in prison, he is still covered."

Her directness caught Malcolm off guard, making his face flush with heat. He didn't know how to respond. If he

looked at it objectively, the matter was deeply embarrassing.

If it had been anyone else from the family-any cousin or nephew-he would have ordered them beaten within an

inch of their life and tossed to a remote estate to fend for themselves.

Once the truth was laid bare, he had no leverage left. He lowered his voice and quietly asked,

"Commander Sinclair, is there any way you could release my dad? He's old and in poor health. He cannot endure

this punishment."

Carissa replied, "Lord Malcolm, to be frank, this operation was carried out under His Majesty's orders. The Capital

Guard and the Garrison Unit were sent to raid the gentlemen's retreats. Those detained will only be held for two

days, as the focus isn't on them, but rather on the Sandorian spies hidden in the retreats. You may not know this,

but there were over a dozen Sandorian spies concealed in the retreats, all brought here by Eleanor. Your dad

himself has spent twith them."

The blood drained from Malcolm's face, and he sat frozen in shock.

If that was the case, this was far more serious than a mere breach of propriety.

How could his dad have been so reckless?

Carissa's straightforward approach had thrown him completely off balance. He took a sip of coffee to steady

himself, his hand trembling slightly as he placed the cup down.

"Commander Sinclair, does this mean His Majesty knows my dad visited a gentlemen's retreat?" he asked, his

voice low.

Carissa shook her head. "No, he doesn't know. His Majesty didn't want to know the names of those involved. He

only issued the order to imprison everyone present at the scene for two days."

A glimmer of hope appeared in Malcolm's eyes. "Then, is it possible to have him imprisoned separately?"

"There's no place to hold prisoners

separately at the Capital Guard headquarters, Lord Malcolm. The real issue now is that His Majesty didn't 't want

to know the namesz initially, but I will be reporting to him tomorrow. Whether he chooses to know then, | cannot

say.

Carissa glanced at Malcolm's pale face. He really did resemble Gerald.

She continued, "Also, after two days, everyone except the spies will be released. Before the raid on the

gentlemen's retreats, no one knew anything. But now that we've sealed all the retreats and uncovered Sandorian

spies, this matter has bechuge.

"There will be many rumors. Lord Gerald didn't visit once or twice-he's been going every few days for years. Over

time, someone was bound to recognize him. | think the damage to your reputation is the real crisis for the

Quinton family."

At least, it was a bigger crisis than Malcolm keeping a mistress.

Malcolm knew this all too well. Even if Gerald had taken a few concubines, it could easily be spun as him

surrounding himself with learned women to assist and inspire him while he worked on his writings.

But now, how could he explain any of this? No matter what he said, it would be impossible to spin this story in a

way that would save their family's dignity.

"Your Grace, | beg you to showa way forward."

Malcolm's voice faltered, his face drawn with desperation. He no longer addressed her as Commander Sinclair,

but with the proper respect, lowering himself in a way that signaled he was truly pleading. Carissa shook her

head again. "I have no specific advice for you, Lord Malcolm. But if | were you, I'd first find out how many people

at the gentlemen's retreat know about Lord Gerald's identity. The more who know, the more likely rumors will

spread.

"It would be wise to go to the palace early tomorrow and beg for His Majesty's forgiveness. No one can control

this situation better than His Majesty, and no one values King Sigmund's reputation more than he does.

"As for Lord Gerald's there, | won't allow anyone to lift the cloth from his head. No one will see him." Looking

at her, Malcolm could tell that she was genuinely offering a solution.

His mind was a whirl of confusion. Until now, all he had focused on was how to negotiate with Carissa to free

Gerald from the prison.

He fell silent for a moment before

asking in a strained voice, "Your Grace, you've advisedand protected my dad. What do you wish to gain in

return? Please speak frankly. As long as it doesn't go against my conscience or the law, | Will do everything in my

power."

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