BETRAYAL OF DIGNITY
Epilogue
Part 3: A Couple Dreams the Same Dream
The royal capital of Swane was divided between the new city, with Castle Rose at its center, and the old city, which encompassed the former palace, now transformed into the royal university. The new king had initiated a city-wide renewal prompted by the proliferation of disreputable establishments in the old quarter. He began ousting the innkeepers involved in gambling and prostitution, though eradicating the clandestine operations proved to be an elusive endeavor.
Under the cloak of night, a weathered carriage came to a stop in front of a closed tavern, its red roof standing out as a beacon in the darkness. A man stepped down from the carriage and cast a quick, wary glance around before hurriedly making his way toward the building. The entrance was barred, and the interior was shrouded in darkness. The man knocked on the door in a pattern-three sharp raps, followed by one, and then two more. At the conclusion of the secret signal, the sound of heavy footsteps approached from within, and the door creaked open.
"Why are you so late?"
"The carriage came late. My apologies."
Emerging from the shadows, the portly man clicked his tongue in annoyance as he handed over a sheaf of fresh newspapers. At that moment, the coachman dismounted the horse and began to approach them, prompting the stout man's expression to sour. Not only had he not been instructed to approach, but this individual bore no resemblance to their contracted coachman, both in stature and demeanor.
"You fool...!"
Before he could reprimand his colleague for bringing an unwanted visitor, the door swung wide open, and the man who had descended from the carriage was propelled forward by the coachman's boot. The man fell flat on the tavern floor with the newspapers in hand.
"I-It's a police officer!"
"How did he discover us? Ugh!" The rotund man, who had scrambled to confront the coachman, gasped and crumpled to his knees. A light jab to the abdomen had left him disoriented and breathless. "P-Please spare me," he implored.
"I have no intention of ending your life, so be quiet," a calm voice commanded from the darkness. It was neither the husky voice of the coachman nor the stern one of a police officer.
What was the source of his composure? Could he be an undercover inspector, answering directly to the royal family?
With a sizzle, he struck a match from the table by the entrance and kindled the lamp. As the shadows receded, the interior of the tavern came into view, revealing a den of illicit gambling-a disarray of old tables and decrepit machines.
"Unbelievable," he muttered, his brow furrowing at the sight of the newspaper he had seized from the pile.
The Royals in Peril: An Heirless Era! The Third Installment, Is the Queen Infertile?
He was clearly agitated by the incendiary headline, still wet with ink. He crumpled the paper in his fist, narrowing his eyes. "Have you all lost your senses?"
"Please... We beg your mercy. We have committed a grave transgression."
The men fell to their knees, now convinced that he really was a police officer.
"We were driven b-by dire straits..."
"We were merely trying to provide for our families..."
With a creak, the unfastened door swung open, revealing yet another figure. "Cormier, it has been a while since we last saw each other at such an ungodly hour," said the man.
