We turned to see King Alaric walking toward us, flanked by four armed guards.

His expression was carved from ice.

“The reputation of this crown is built on honor, Rachel,” Alaric said, stopping a few feet away. “Not on the blood of fathers and the imprisonment of mothers.”

He looked down at the documents scattered on the floor.

“Secure her,” Alaric ordered his guards.

Two guards stepped forward and seized Rachel, pulling her away from me.

She screamed and kicked, her white dress tearing as she fought them.

“Alexander, help me!” she cried. “They are lying to you! I love you!”

Alexander didn’t look at her.

He looked at the scratch on his cheek, then at the spilled papers.

Alaric turned to me.

“Commander Carter,” the King said. “We have secured your mother. She is being examined by the royal physician as we speak.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” I said, feeling a wave of relief wash over me.

“But our work is not finished,” Alaric said, pointing to the documents. “We must verify the origin of these funds. If they were obtained through criminal means on our soil, this is a matter for international law.”