The Useless Prince Is A Gangster
Chapter 98. Behind the scenes

Chapter 98: 98. Behind the scenes

Cellblock of Treachery—

In the damp, dark cellblock of the Pillar of Treachery’s jail, Vivien leaned against the cold stone wall, gazing at a tiny, stale hunk of bread—her sole sustenance for the day. A heavy slave collar dug into her neck.

Other prisoners surrounded her, munching on their sparse rations with desperate hunger, their starved faces revealing starvation’s price. Vivien’s stomach growled, a sharp pang of hunger she’d never known in her sheltered life. She ate the bread in small bites, its dry texture barely easing her discomfort, and swallowed hard, the small portion doing little to quiet her hunger.

Lysa, the girl beside her, without a word broke off half her own bread and offered it to Vivien. Surprised, Vivien hesitated, her crimson eyes looking at Lysa’s gaunt face. "You... don’t need this?" she asked softly.

Lysa’s voice was faint, her eyes dull. "Hunger fades here. I can’t stomach much anymore."

Vivien accepted the bread, eating it quickly as her stomach demanded more. "What’s your name?" Lysa asked, her tone quiet but curious.

"Vivien Caulem," she replied, managing a small smile despite her fear.

Lysa’s brow lifted slightly. "Caulem... a noble?"

Vivien nodded, then tilted her head. "And you? What’s your name?"

"Lysa Threx," the girl murmured.

Vivien’s eyes brightened. "Threx? So you’re noble too!"

Lysa fell silent, her gaze dropping to the floor. Vivien, undeterred, shifted to sit cross-legged, her eyes scanning the grim cellblock—iron bars, flickering torches, and the hollow stares of prisoners. "What is this place?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Why am I here? I just want to go home."

Lysa’s voice was flat, heavy with resignation. "You can’t go home. No one leaves this place."

Vivien’s jaw tightened. "I will go home," she said, her voice firm, trembling only slightly.

"My elder brother Leonhardt... He’s been different lately, spending time with me, playing games, and making me laugh. I can’t miss that. And Lucian’s birthday is coming; it’s a huge celebration. He’d be heartbroken if I’m not there."

Lysa’s lips twitched in a dry, hollow chuckle, but the sound broke into quiet sobs, her frail shoulders trembling. Her voice choked with hiccups. "I’ve been here... so long. I miss my father’s voice, his stories. They took Myr; she was all I had left here. She never came back."

Her tears etched paths through the dirt on her face, her words breaking down into a cry. "I just... I want to go home."

Vivien’s heart winched, a spear of empathy piercing her own terror. She moved closer, her tiny hand extending to rest lightly upon Lysa’s head, her touch warm and solid.

A small, firm smile relaxed Vivien’s face, her voice firm in the face of her own terror. "Don’t give up, Lysa. When it hurts, just close your eyes and picture the good moments waiting for you, like your father and your home. We’ll get out of here, Lysa."

Caulem Manor—

Leo strode into the Caulem manor, his cloak and attire drenched in blood, Nimbus walking right behind him. Servants gasped, stepping back, and even seasoned soldiers hesitated at the sight of the young master, bloodied but unbowed.

Liana approached immediately, offering a clean towel. Leo wiped the blood from his face as he moved through the hall, removing his stained cloak. "Where’s the duchess?" he asked with urgency.

"In her chambers, young master," Liana replied, taking the blood-soaked cloak with steady hands.

"Summon her to the Duke’s office immediately," Leo ordered, ascending the stairs. "And keep Lucian out of this. He doesn’t need to know yet."

"Yes, Young Master," Liana said, hurrying to carry out his command.

Leo entered the Duke’s office, the door closing behind him. Alric rose from his desk, his eyes widening at Leo’s bloodied state. "Leonhardt, what happened? Are you injured?"

Leo moved to the desk. "I secured the guild master. He’s being brought for interrogation. But the guild... it’s a graveyard now."

Alric’s brow furrowed, his voice cautious. "A graveyard?"

"Everyone inside is dead," Leo said, his voice flat. "I didn’t have a choice."

Alric exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I’ll handle the consequences. Anything else?"

"There’s a bigger problem we need to confront."

A soft knock interrupted, and Leo called, "Enter," without turning. Maria stepped inside, her face etched with fear and exhaustion, her eyes flickering between Leo and Alric. She closed the door quietly, her movements hesitant. Alric, puzzled by her presence.

Leo turned, his eyes locking onto her. "Duchess, I need the truth, every detail. Will you cooperate?"

Maria’s gaze dropped, her hands twisting together. After a moment, she nodded, her voice barely audible. "Yes."

"You feared Lucian would lose his place as heir, but you didn’t move against me when I was a child, even after my mother’s death. You’re not the mastermind behind the plot to kill me, are you?"

Maria nods her head, her voice trembling. "Yes."

Alric’s confusion hardened into anger. "Then who else is involved?" he demanded, his voice rising.

Maria flinched, her words spilling out. "Prince Cassain... he was guiding me, providing resources."

Alric’s rage flared, his fist slamming the desk, rattling the inkwell. "Cassian? The royal family dares to strike at my son?" His voice dropped to a dangerous growl. "I’ll tear their house apart for this."

Leo raised a hand, his voice calm but firm. "Hold, Father." He fixed his gaze on Maria. "Who planted the idea that killing me would secure Lucian’s future?"

Maria hesitated, her silence heavy with dread. Leo’s voice sharpened. "Vivien’s life hangs on this, Duchess."

"It was Marzella," Maria whispered, her voice breaking. "The head maid."

Alric’s eyes widened, shock replacing his fury. "Marzella? A maid, orchestrating this?"

Leo’s expression didn’t waver. "Tell me exactly what happened."

Maria’s voice quavered as she spoke. "I was always worried for Lucian’s future, that he’d be overshadowed as heir. Everyone adores him. He was always seen as the natural heir. I clung to that hope. But Marzella... She started whispering months ago, warning that Leonhardt was the first son, that he’d claim the dukedom and leave Lucian with nothing. She twisted my fears, made me believe you were a threat. She connected me to Prince Cassain, promising his support for Lucian’s ascension if I acted. Marzella arranged the mercenaries, everything."

Alric’s voice was a low snarl. "How does a head maid wield such influence with a prince?" He rang the bell on his desk, summoning the head butler. Moments later, Alberk entered, bowing. "Where is Marzella?" Alric demanded.

Alberk blinked, caught off guard. "She’s on leave, my lord. She left to visit her daughter shortly before the kidnapping."

Alric’s fist clenched and commanded. "Dispatch soldiers. Find her immediately."

Remote Village, Nightfall—

Hours later, a squad of Caulem soldiers reached a secluded house in a quiet village, identified as the home of Marzella’s daughter.

They dismounted, moving with disciplined precision to surround the building.

The lead soldier signaled, and they broke the door, weapons drawn, only to freeze in horror. The living room was a scene of slaughter: blood coated the walls, dried and flaking, mingled with scattered tiny pieces of flesh and bone.

The furniture was knocked over, some of it burned or melted like it had been hit with heat or fire. There was a dark black mark in the middle of the room, like something had exploded there. But the walls and floor weren’t badly damaged.

The stench of rot made it clear—it had been days. The soldiers exchanged grim glances, their grips tightening on their weapons.

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