The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 140

Hunting for the Truth

Claim

After excusing himself, Caleb walked out of the royal hall without looking back, his expression carved from stone, his steps measured and controlled, yet beneath that cold exterior his mind was moving at a relentless speed, sharp and focused with a single purpose that drowned out everything else.

He had one target.

One direction.

One truth to uncover.

The polished corridors of the castle stretched before him, servants and guards bowing as he passed, but he barely acknowledged them, his thoughts already several steps ahead, already piecing together fragments, reactions, inconsistencies, until one conclusion becane undeniable-

He could trust no one.

Not fully.

Not yet.

Because whatever this was…

It had already reached too far.

Too deep.

And if Sonia managed to sway not only the Council but also his father-

Then this was no small scheme.

This was something calculated.

Engineered.

Carefully placed.

His steps slowed only when he reached a secured wing of the castle, heavily guarded and restricted, where the operational core of the palace functioned silently behind reinforced doors.

Tariq.

His father’s Gamma.

One of the most trusted men in the entire kingdom.

If there was anyone who had access to everything-

It was him.

Caleb approached, and the guards immediately stepped aside, opening the doors without question as he entered, his presence alone enough to grant him unrestricted passage.

1/6

Hunting for the Fruith

Clam

Inside, Tariy looked up from his work, surprise flickering briefly across his features before he straightened respectfully.

“Your Highness,” he greeted, his tone formal but attentive. “I was not expecting you here.”

Caleb allowed a faint, almost relaxed smile to touch his lips, carefully masking the storm beneath.

“I need access to the CCTV recordings,” he said simply.

Tariq blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“The recordings?” he repeated, his brows drawing together slightly as alertness crept into his posture. “Is everything alright? Is there a threat?”

For a brief moment-

Caleb laughed.

Low.

Easy.

Convincing.

“No,” he replied smoothly, waving a hand dismissively as if brushing the concern aside. “Nothing like that.”

He took a slow step closer, his tone casual, almost indifferent.

“Just a routine check,” he added. “I want to double-check a few things before I finalize my report regarding the northern unrest.”

Tariq studied him for a second longer, clearly assessing, clearly weighing the situation, but Caleb held the mask perfectly, his composure flawless, his presence/calm and unshaken.

After a moment-

Tariq nodded.

“Very well,” he said, gesturing toward the inner section. “Follow me.”

They moved through a series of secured doors, descending slightly into the core of the control center, where multiple screens illuminated the dim room, each one displaying different sections of the palace, different angles, different moments captured in time.

The hum of technology filled the space.

Silent.

Constant.

Watching everything.

Tariq stepped aside, gesturing toward the main console.

“If you tell me what you are looking for, I can assist you,” he offered.

26

Hunting fauite fruth

Claims

Galeb shook his head lightly, already moving toward the screens.

“No need,” he replied, his tone still easy, still controlled. “I’m just looking around.”

He sat down, his movements fluid, deliberate, his fingers already brushing over the controls as if this was nothing more than routine.

“I was thinking of reviewing some of the older delegations that arrived at the castle,” he continued casually. “See if any of them had ties with the Nordic packs… maybe something we overlooked… a comment, a detail, anything that might connect to the recent unrest.”

Tariq listened, his expression thoughtful.

“That makes sense,” he admitted with a nod. “Given the situation, it is better to be thorough.”

Exactly.

“Is better to do this before I close the report for the King,” Caleb added, sealing the explanation.

Tariq gave a final nod.

“Very well. I will leave you to it.”

And just like that-

He was alone.

The door closed behind him with a quiet click.

Silence.

Caleb didn’t move for a moment.

Then-

A long breath left his chest.

Heavy.

Controlled.

1

His hand reached up, loosening his collar slightly before he removed his jacket, tossing it carelessly over the back of the chair, the composed prince fading just enough to reveal the man beneath-

Focused.

Dangerous.

Hunting.

He leaned forward, his fingers moving swiftly across the console.

But instead of pulling the archives he had mentioned-

He searched for something else.

36

Hunting for the Fruth Today’s recording.

The throne hall.

The moment he refused the ceremony.

Claim

The screens flickered, and within seconds the footage appeared, replaying the scene from multiple angles, every reaction captured in perfect detail

Caleb’s eyes sharpened instantly.

He watched.

Not the words.

Not himself.

But them.

Sonia.

The Council members.

His father.

Every twitch.

Every glance.

Every shift in posture.

Then-

He pulled another folder.

Older.

The day Sonia arrived at the palace for the first time.

Her delegation.

Her pack.

The moment everything began.

The footage loaded slowly, and Caleb leaned back slightly, his fingers steepled in front of him, his gaze locked onto the screen with unwavering intensity.

“This is where it started…” he murmured under his breath.

Because somewhere in these recordings-

There was a mistake.

A slip.

< Hunting for the Fruth

A detail they didn’t think anyone would notice.

And he would find it.

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