Darragh stood and moved around the desk. He wanted to pull Finn into his arms, but recognized the distance in his husband’s posture. “We should bring in Helena and Aldric. Create a plan…”
“A trap.”
“Evidence,” Darragh corrected. “We’ll create a situation where Thomas shows his hand.” He reached for Finn’s arm. “You were right to come to me.”
Finn’s smile was sharp and joyless. “I should have realized sooner. I’ve been so focused on not making mistakes that I didn’t see someone was making them for me.”
/~/~/~/~/
Helena’s face remained impassive as Darragh explained the situation, but her fingers drummed once on the council table, the only sign of her anger. Aldric’s face flushed red.
“That little snake,” Aldric muttered. “Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but if this is true…”
“We need proof before we act,” Helena interrupted. “Thomas has served this kingdom for years. His father served your grandfather. If we dismiss him based on circumstantial evidence, we risk looking capricious.” She looked at Finn. “Or looking like we’re retaliating against legitimate criticism.”
Finn’s jaw tightened, but he nodded.
“We’ll create a test,” Darragh said. “Something Thomas would want to interfere with.”
Helena tapped the table thoughtfully. “What about the final guest list for the opening banquet? It’s politically sensitive. You know how much seating arrangements matter. If we plant a version with a significant error, one that Thomas would notice...” she paused. “He wouldn’t be able to resist ‘correcting’ it in a way that reflects poorly on Finn.”
“We’ll need witnesses,” Aldric added. “Not just us. Someone neutral who can corroborate what happens.”
They spent the next hour crafting the trap. A deliberately flawed seating chart that placed Queen Valdis below her proper rank - an insult significant enough that Thomas would feel obligated to act. They’d leave it in Finn’s office with a note indicating Finn had finalized the arrangements. Then they’d watch.
“Gordon should be told,” Helena said. “He’s loyal to Finn and sharp enough to notice if Thomas attempts something.”
Finn spoke for the first time since the meeting began. “What happens if we’re wrong? If Thomas doesn’t take the bait?”
“Then we reevaluate,” Darragh said. “But I don’t think we’re wrong.”
The certainty in his own voice surprised him. Thomas had been part of Darragh’s council since he’d taken the throne - quiet Thomas, who preferred research to negotiation, who always had statistics and historical precedents ready. Loyal Thomas. Except Darragh was seeing now that loyalty to the kingdom and loyalty to its king weren’t the same thing. And loyalty to tradition could make someone do terrible things to protect it.
/~/~/~/~/
Finn left immediately after the meeting ended, claiming he needed to review delegation schedules. Darragh let him go, recognizing that his husband needed space to process everything.
But when midnight came, and Finn still hadn’t appeared in their chambers, Darragh went looking. He found Finn in his office, papers spread across the desk in organized stacks. Not working frantically as he had been for weeks, but methodically creatingbackup systems, verification procedures, and redundancies that would make sabotage nearly impossible.
“Come to bed.”
Finn looked up, his face drawn with exhaustion. “I need to finish this.”
“Finn…”
“I should have realized sooner.” Finn’s hands stilled on the papers. “All those mistakes, all those problems - I thought it was me. I thought I was failing because I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t suited for this position.” His voice cracked slightly. “And maybe I’m not. Maybe Thomas is right about that part. But I should have seen what he was doing.”
Darragh moved around the desk and pulled the papers from Finn’s hands. “You saw it. You figured it out. That’s what matters.”
“I wasted weeks thinking I was incompetent…”
“You spent weeks trying to be perfect under impossible circumstances.” Darragh gripped Finn’s shoulders. “Thomas created those circumstances. He manipulated you into doubting yourself, into changing everything about who you are. That’s not your failure. That’s his.”
Finn’s eyes were red-rimmed, his face pale. “What if the trap doesn’t work? What if we can’t prove it?”
“Then we’ll find another way.” Darragh pulled Finn to his feet. “But tonight, you’re going to sleep. Actually, sleep, not pass out over your desk at three in the morning.”
He led Finn through the quiet castle to their chambers, helped him undress, and pushed him toward the bed. Finn climbed in mechanically, still wearing that terrible blank expression.
