I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Chapter 287: A Prince’s Intervention

"Clear the perimeter! Do not touch anything!" the Captain of the Imperial Guard roared, his armor clanking loudly as he directed a squad of silver-clad knights to surround the refreshment tables.

Two court mages stepped forward, the hems of their embroidered robes brushing against the floor. Raising their glowing staves, they sent waves of blue detection magic sweeping over the spilled wine, the shattered crystal glass, and the untouched food nearby.

The remaining members of the Solaric delegation were in absolute, buzzing chaos. They clustered together near the pillars, their hands gripping the hilts of their ceremonial blades, their voices raised in a frantic blend of panic and foreign accents. To them, a royal princess of Solaric had just been violently struck down in the heart of the Auzelian capital. To them, it might as well have been a declaration of war.

The ballroom fell into a tense, breathless silence as the magic rippled through the air, searching for any trace of lethal residue. But as the light faded, the mages exchanged bewildered, incredibly tense glances.

"Did you find something?" the Captain demanded, stepping closer.

"There is... nothing, Captain," the head mage replied, his voice laced with profound confusion. "The magic detects no anomalies. Hundreds of guests have been consuming from these exact tables all evening, yet only Princess Iryna was affected."

Hearing the verdict, the Captain turned his sharp, calculating gaze directly toward Marielle, who was standing completely frozen in the center of the cleared space.

"Lady Marielle," the Captain spoke up, his tone firm and unyielding as he approached her. "As you were the closest individual to Her Highness throughout the entire evening, I must ask for a clear explanation. What exactly happened right before the princess collapsed?"

"We were just talking... we were just laughing! There was nothing wrong with her! She was completely fine. As an alcohol enthusiast, I was simply curious about the Solaric vintage, so we took a glass together. We were just drinking and making light conversation. Then..."

As Marielle’s explanation trailed off into an uneasy silence, the surrounding capital nobles began to stir. The initial terror of a widespread poison attack was quickly fading, replaced by a much more familiar, venomous instinct: the desire to find a convenient scapegoat.

"Could it have been her?" a countess whispered loudly behind her fan, her eyes darting suspiciously toward Marielle. "She was right beside the princess and Prince Gillian the entire night. But then again, why would she target Solaric?"

"Don’t be foolish, Prince Gillian would never let a stranger slip something into his sister’s drink," a marquis muttered back, leaning in close to a small circle of aristocrats. "But look who else was lingering right by that exact table just moments before he slipped away. Lord Cherion."

"Ah, right! You saw how he behaved earlier," another baron chimed in. "And you know what kind of volatile reputation he has. As far as we know, only him would dare pull a dirty trick like this."

The nobles’ not so hushed conversations spreading like wildfire, a toxic cloud of whispered accusations rapidly filling the room.

Cherion stood his ground a short distance away, his posture entirely relaxed. He noted the nobles’ words, tracing the pathetic logic they were trying to weave. Beside him, Beside him, Zarius’s expression darkened with every whispered accusation.

But before Zarius could take a single step forward, a booming, furious voice shattered the aristocratic muttering.

"Silence! Hold your tongues!"

The crowd gasped, instantly shrinking back.

Yerel stepped forward, his face twisted into a mask of severe, imperial outrage. But his fury wasn’t directed at the North, it was directed entirely at his own court. He slapped the whispering nobles with a fierce, burning glare that made several barons turn pale.

"Do not throw baseless, pathetic accusations in my presence without a single shred of physical evidence!"

Cherion subtly raised an eyebrow, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his eyes. Did he... just defend me?

Despite the prince’s warning, a bold, high-ranking noble near the back pressed further, desperate to shift the blame. "But Your Highness, it is a fact that Lord Cherion spent quite some time near the refreshment table with the princess earlier!"

Cherion crossed his arms. "So what? Half the room did. If standing near a table makes you an assassin, we should arrest the entire guest list."

"He speaks the truth," Flio spoke up, firmly stepping forward alongside Elios to stand by Cherion’s side. "We were nearby the entire time and happened to be talking with Lord Cherion before he stepped out. We didn’t see anything out of the ordinary."

The Captain of the Imperial Guard looked between the shouting nobles, the silent mages, and the furious Crown Prince. He knew he had to provide some form of immediate action to appease the buzzing Solaric delegation who were watching like hawks.

Stepping forward, the Captain moved into Cherion’s path. "Lord Cherion. I must request that you follow us to the guard quarters for a formal interrogation statement."

Zarius moved, his massive frame instantly shifting to step directly in front of Cherion, completely shielding the intern from the guards. His hand gripped the hilt of his heavy blade, his eyes flashing a dangerous, feral amber.

"I dare you to take one single step forward."

"Your Grace, please do not make things difficult," the Captain replied, he stood his ground, though a sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead.. "This is a matter of state security."

Yerel then firmly stepped between the two forces, his hand raised.

"Stand down, Captain," Yerel commanded, his tone completely cutting off the guard’s protest. "I will not allow you to drag a visiting noble away to the dungeons based on the desperate, mindless gossip of a panicked room. Do not let panic cloud your judgment."

Turning toward the frantic Solaric delegation, Yerel raised his voice, his expression solemn and heavy. "As the Crown Prince of Auzelian, I assure you on my title and honor that we will thoroughly investigate this matter and bring the true culprit to justice. No stone will be left unturned."

Yerel then turned back to the Captain of the Guard. "Every noble present tonight will remain within the palace until the culprit is identified."

With the orders handed down, Yerel turned his head slightly, his gaze landing on Cherion. He reached out, his hand briefly touching Cherion’s shoulder with a firm, surprisingly steady grip.

"Do not listen to those baseless accusations," Yerel said softly, his voice low enough for only their immediate circle to hear.

Zarius didn’t wait for the pleasantries to conclude. Sensing an opening to remove Cherion from the center of the room, the Duke tightly gripped Cherion’s arm, subtly pulling him backward away from the crowd while Elios smoothly guided a still-trembling Marielle along with them.

As the Northern group retreated toward the secure side exits under the watchful eyes of the imperial knights, Cherion glanced back over his shoulder one last time.

Yerel stood tall in the center of the bloodstained ballroom, watching their departure with a heavy frown. A few paces behind him stood Philia, motionless and silent, his gaze fixed on the Crown Prince’s back.