Disguised as a Commoner

Chris's POV – 

The night was silent as Chris stood in front of a modest tavern in one of the lesser-known districts of the capital. The palace loomed in the distance, a shining beacon of power. But here, amidst the flickering lanterns and the murmur of quiet conversations, Chris was just another face—a commoner, blending in with the city's underbelly.

He had disguised himself, shedding the sharp, commanding appearance he usually wore. His expensive attire was replaced by worn clothes that would make him indistinguishable from any other man in the street. His black cloak, usually a symbol of authority, was now a simple garment that hid his identity.

The transformation was necessary.

Chris needed to see the inner workings of the palace without the heavy hand of his status looming over every interaction. The people were no longer afraid of him in this form. He moved through the streets with ease, unnoticed by the guards and staff who had never seen the Blackwood patriarch in such a vulnerable light.

His heart pounded slightly faster than normal as he approached the grand entrance to the palace. It wasn't the fear of being caught that gnawed at him—Chris was far too clever for that—but rather the idea of what he might learn by being in the palace unnoticed. He had his suspicions about the inner workings of the empire, but sometimes, seeing it firsthand was necessary to understand its true nature.

He stepped past the guards near the outer gates, who paid no mind to the ordinary man before them. His steps were careful, deliberate, as he made his way through the hallways of the palace.

Everywhere he went, the place was alive with activity. Servants hustling to prepare for the next big event, the murmurs of courtiers gossiping in the halls, and the guards patrolling the vast corridors. But the true nature of the palace wasn't visible to the casual observer. Chris had seen what lurked beneath the polished surface for years—politics, deceit, alliances formed and broken in the shadows.

Now, in his disguise, he was witnessing it again—up close.

He found his way to the servants' quarters, a place he knew well from his earlier days. The lowborn had their own customs, their own networks of power. Chris knew they often held the real secrets—rumors passed along quietly, between those who truly controlled the pulse of the empire.

Chris entered a dimly lit room at the end of a narrow hallway. The voices within hushed at his arrival, the servants looking him over curiously.

He lowered his head, pretending to be one of them. He'd played the role well before, but now, with his true intentions hidden beneath layers of deception, he had a new goal. Chris needed information. He needed to know what was happening beneath the surface of his empire.

"I... I'm just here to speak to someone," Chris muttered, adopting a soft, humble tone. "I was told there would be someone here who could—could help me with a request."

A tall, wiry servant, a man who looked worn from years of working in the palace, gave him a measured look. He was not easily deceived. "What kind of request?" he asked, his voice low.

Chris forced a hesitant expression, looking down as if unsure whether to speak at all. "I have... family," he began slowly, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. "Family who've fallen from favor. I came to beg, to ask for mercy... I need help." He looked up at the servant with a pleading glance, hoping the desperation would be enough to sell the lie.

The servant eyed him for a moment before nodding, apparently satisfied with his performance. "I know what you mean, friend. Mercy's hard to come by around here," the servant muttered under his breath. "But... you want to see someone, eh? There's a few who might listen—though I wouldn't expect much. It's a harsh world up there in the higher halls."

Chris's heart quickened slightly as the servant gestured for him to follow. He had gotten the response he was hoping for.

"I'll take you to someone who can at least listen," the servant said. "But don't expect favors. The ones who hold the power here don't give it up easily."

Chris followed the servant through the winding halls of the palace, deeper into the labyrinth where the elite lived, worked, and plotted. The deeper they went, the more the air thickened with a sense of power—he could almost feel the tension, the weight of those who ran the empire.

As they approached a door that led to the inner chambers of the palace, the servant stopped. "You'll have to wait here," he said. "But don't worry. They'll see you soon enough."

Chris nodded silently, taking his place in the shadowed corner of the room. His mind raced, analyzing every movement, every exchange, every word that had been spoken since he'd arrived. He was closer now to finding out what he needed to know. But there was one thing he knew for sure—he couldn't let anyone, not even his own family, know that he was here.

As he waited, his thoughts turned to the Blackwood legacy, to his children, and to the future. The empire he had built was fragile, and even now, as he stood alone in the darkened corner of a palace that should have been his domain, he couldn't shake the feeling that things were slipping from his grasp.

Soon, someone would arrive to hear his request. But for now, Chris had a rare opportunity to watch, to listen, and to learn. And perhaps, just perhaps, he would find the answers he was seeking.