All gazes converged on Jorge. The fact that the lieutenant was hiding in the heart of his residence was almost irrefutable proof of his involvement in the conspiracy against the State, but the final blow was still missing.

—Possibly you were counting on the three captured soldiers having sealed lips, after all, they are elite soldiers; but one of them has confessed that the owner of this estate was the traitor who helped them. You had access to existing information, detailed maps of the island, situation of the patrols, everything! With that help, it was easy to infiltrate our systems. That unexpected confession has unmasked you.

Álex had also come, along with numerous employees who rushed to the scene after hearing the explosion and witnessed it; those who knew Spanish, like Eukario and Miceros, were totally frightened; the lower-ranking ones whispered among themselves, sharing Kamar's words, which would soon spread throughout the estate. The lord of Tharakos had fallen.

Jorge felt his heart beating in his chest and seriously thought he was having a heart attack, because he felt pressure in his chest and a terrible anguish. But it wasn't a physical problem; it was the vertigo of desperation, the pang of a perceived betrayal, the panic of being reduced to a mere pawn on a board where he no longer had any control.

He collapsed onto a sofa. His appearance was so pitiful that the feeling he evoked, above rejection, was one of pity. Kamar himself, who had many reasons to be very hard on him, was unable to treat him with the severity that his apparent betrayal deserved. Jorge, always the master of his own destiny, was now at the mercy of an unappealable verdict.

He remembered, in a flash of lucidity, the moments when his word was law, when his house was his kingdom and his people venerated him with devotion. Now everything was crumbling. Álex's gaze pierced him with a mixture of anguish and fear. Martín was not present, but Jorge imagined his face upon receiving the news, the incredulity followed by the brutal certainty that his world was crumbling.

Kamar sighed gravely and approached him.

—Stay in your room. You will be escorted so you cannot leave from there.

Jorge swallowed, feeling the metallic taste of fear in his mouth. It wasn't the confinement that terrified him, but the inexorable machinery of a destiny that he could no longer modify.

—Can I... stay in the company of my personal slaves? —he asked, aware that nothing mattered anymore. At that moment, he was thinking of Martín, and he felt that he loved him intensely.

—Naturally. You will be treated with courtesy and according to your rank. You are still the High Jorge Tharakos, and that is sacred.

Jorge entered his bedroom, followed by Álex, with the weight of destiny already sealed on his shoulders; two armed soldiers stood guard at the door. The dimness of the room was broken by ...