Chapter 161: A Dangerous Gambit

The moon hung low in the sky as the traitor stared out of the small window of their quarters, formulating a plan. The Order's stronghold was an impenetrable fortress, but there were cracks—small, almost invisible to most, but cracks nonetheless. The traitor had spent years navigating this web of lies, and if they were going to survive this next mission, they needed to act quickly. They needed to get a message to Jay, warning him of the assassination plot before it was too late.

But with Isolde watching their every move, slipping away unnoticed would be nearly impossible.

The traitor's thoughts were interrupted by the faint sound of footsteps outside their door. A quiet knock followed, and the traitor's heart leaped into their throat. It was late—too late for a casual visit. They quickly tucked their dagger beneath their pillow again, a habit they had formed out of necessity.

"Who is it?" the traitor called out, keeping their voice steady.

"It's me," came the familiar voice of the woman from earlier. The same sharp-eyed disciple who had threatened them with her knowing gaze.

The traitor hesitated for a moment, then unlocked the door and opened it a crack. She stood there, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. "I told you I'd be watching."

"What do you want?" the traitor asked, wary of her sudden reappearance. "I'm not in the mood for games."

She smirked slightly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "Good, because this isn't a game. I'm here to help you."

The traitor blinked in surprise, caught off guard by her words. "Help me? Why?"

Her smirk faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "I know you're not one of us. You've been trying to hide it, but you're not as good at blending in as you think." She glanced around the small room before continuing. "You're working with the kingdom, aren't you?"

The traitor's stomach dropped. This was it. The moment they had feared. She knew, and now she was going to turn them over to the Serpentmaster.

But before they could respond, she held up a hand. "Relax. I'm not going to report you. I told you—I want to help."

The traitor's eyes narrowed, suspicion growing. "Why would you help me? What's in it for you?"

She shrugged, leaning casually against the wall. "I've been part of the Order for too long. Seen too much. I joined thinking it would be a path to power, but all I've found here is death and lies. I want out, and I think you're my way out."

The traitor studied her closely, trying to gauge her sincerity. "You want to defect to the kingdom?"

She nodded. "If you can get me out of here, I'll help you. But you need to act fast. I overheard Isolde talking with the Serpentmaster. They don't trust you. This mission to assassinate the king? It's a test. They're watching to see if you'll slip up."

The traitor's heart raced. A test. It made sense now. The Serpentmaster never truly trusted anyone, and this mission was designed to push them to their limit. If they failed—or if they showed any hesitation—it would be the end.

"And if I succeed in the mission?" the traitor asked, their voice tight with tension.

"Then you'll just be digging yourself in deeper," she replied bluntly. "There's no winning with the Order. The deeper you go, the more you're trapped."

The traitor turned away, pacing the small room as their mind raced. The clock was ticking. They needed to warn Jay, stop the assassination, and find a way out of the Order's clutches. But could they trust this woman?

"You don't have a choice," she said, as if reading their thoughts. "You need me if you're going to survive this."

The traitor stopped pacing, meeting her gaze. "Fine. We'll work together. But if you betray me, I'll kill you myself."

She smiled, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. "Fair enough."

The next morning, the traitor and Isolde prepared to depart for the mission. The stronghold buzzed with quiet activity, disciples moving like shadows through the halls. The traitor could feel the weight of a dozen unseen eyes watching their every move, analyzing, waiting for a sign of weakness.

Isolde, ever composed, approached the traitor with an air of icy confidence. "The Serpentmaster expects perfection. Do not fail."

Her words were cold and precise, but there was something in her gaze that made the traitor uneasy. She wasn't just here to oversee the mission—she was here to ensure loyalty. If the traitor showed any sign of betrayal, Isolde would not hesitate to act.

The woman from the night before—whose name the traitor still didn't know—was already embedded in the operation. She had managed to convince Isolde that her skills would be useful on this mission, giving the traitor a much-needed ally, though a fragile one.

As they set out toward the kingdom, the traitor's mind raced. They had managed to send a coded message to Jay during the night, using one of the Order's couriers who was loyal to no one but gold. The message was brief but clear: The king is in danger. The assassination will happen soon. Be ready.

But there was no way to know if the message had reached Jay in time—or if it had even reached him at all.

The journey to the kingdom was uneventful, but the tension between the traitor and Isolde was palpable. Every word, every glance, felt like a test. The traitor had to remain composed, not letting any sign of doubt show. They had been trained for this—trained to lie, to deceive. But even the best liar could crack under the pressure, and the stakes had never been higher.

As the sun began to set, they arrived at the outskirts of the capital city. The traitor's heart pounded as they approached the hidden entrance the Order used to infiltrate the palace. The plan was simple enough: they would slip inside during the council meeting, strike when the king was most vulnerable, and escape before anyone realized what had happened.

But the traitor had no intention of following through.

Isolde turned to the group, her eyes cold and calculating. "We move in silently. No mistakes. The king dies tonight."

The traitor nodded, forcing themselves to appear calm. But their mind was spinning with possibilities, each one more dangerous than the last. How could they stop this without exposing themselves? How could they protect the king and keep their cover intact?

The moment of truth was approaching, and the traitor knew that one wrong move could spell the end—not just for them, but for the entire kingdom.

Inside the palace, Jay stood at the head of the council chamber, his eyes scanning the room as the meeting dragged on. The message from the traitor had reached him earlier that day, and ever since, he had been on edge. He knew an attack was coming, but he didn't know when or how.

Mira sat beside him, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. She, too, was ready for anything. They had doubled the guards, fortified the entrances, but the Order was cunning. They would find a way inside.

As the night deepened, a chill ran through the air. Jay could feel it—the storm was coming.

And in the shadows, the traitor moved closer to their fateful decision.