The Returned Prince

The supplies were recovered, but the confrontation at the fortress left me with more questions than answers. As we rode back toward the capital, the weight of the battle pressed heavily on my thoughts. The leader of the mercenaries had escaped before I could unmask him, and his fighting style nagged at me—a faint echo of techniques I had seen before in court duels and military drills.

Who had hired him? Who among my enemies—or even my allies—had the resources to orchestrate such an elaborate scheme?

Kieran rode beside me, his expression unreadable as always. The supplies were secure under the watchful eyes of the guards following us, but his attention was on me.

"You're quiet," he said, his tone probing.

"I'm thinking," I replied.

"Dangerous habit," he quipped, though his smirk faded when I didn't react. "What is it? Something about the leader?"

I nodded. "His technique. It wasn't that of a common mercenary. His stance, his precision… It felt familiar. Too familiar."

Kieran's brow furrowed. "You think he's connected to someone in the court?"

"Perhaps," I said. "Or someone trained by the same instructors. Either way, this wasn't a random attack. The supplies weren't just stolen for profit; they were meant to disrupt the empire's stability. Whoever planned this is playing a much larger game."

Kieran nodded thoughtfully. "If that's true, then we need to tighten our circle. Trust becomes a liability when the stakes are this high."

Trust. The word twisted something inside me, a bitter reminder of how my past life had ended. Max's betrayal had taught me the price of misplaced trust, and I wasn't eager to pay it again.

We reached the capital by dusk, and I wasted no time arranging an audience with Duke Raventhal. He received me in his private study, a room lined with shelves of books and maps that spoke to his strategic mind.

As I entered, he rose from his chair, his sharp gaze assessing me. "Prince Aurelian," he said, his tone even. "You've returned sooner than I expected."

I inclined my head. "The task was urgent, Your Grace. I thought it best to act quickly."

"And?" he prompted, gesturing for me to sit.

I recounted the events of the past days—the missing supplies, the mercenaries, the fortress. I left out nothing of importance, knowing that any omission could be seen as weakness.

When I finished, Raventhal leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "You've done well, Prince. Recovering the supplies will ease tensions in the eastern provinces, at least for now. But this leader you described… He concerns me."

"As he should," I said. "This was no isolated incident. Whoever hired those mercenaries is aiming for something much larger. The Emperor's position, perhaps even the empire itself, is their target."

Raventhal nodded slowly. "I agree. And if you're right, then this is just the beginning. The question is, how do we respond?"

"I propose we investigate Viscount Erynthe," I said without hesitation. "The eastern routes fall under his influence, and his alliances with my brothers make him a likely suspect. If he's behind this, we need to expose him."

The Duke studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Erynthe is a cunning man," he said finally. "If you intend to challenge him, you'll need more than suspicions. You'll need evidence—undeniable proof of his involvement."

I nodded. "And I'll find it."

That night, I returned to my chambers, exhaustion tugging at my every step. The flicker of candlelight greeted me as I entered, and to my surprise, Elara was waiting for me.

She rose from her seat by the window, her expression a mix of relief and concern. "You're back," she said, crossing the room to meet me. "I heard about the supplies. Are you all right?"

I nodded, though the weight of the day still lingered. "I'm fine. But this mission has raised more questions than answers."

Elara's eyes softened. "Then you'll find those answers, Aurelian. You always do."

Her confidence in me was a balm to the doubts swirling in my mind. As I sat down, she began pouring tea, her movements graceful and practiced.

"You're thinking about the mercenary leader," she said, handing me a cup.

"How could you tell?"

"You have that look in your eyes," she replied with a small smile. "The one you get when you're trying to solve a puzzle no one else can see."

I chuckled softly, though the sound lacked humor. "He's a piece of a much larger puzzle, Elara. And I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing something crucial."

She placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Then look deeper. Whoever he is, he made a mistake in facing you directly. Use that mistake to your advantage."

Her words sparked something in me—a memory of the fight at the fortress, the way the mercenary's stance had shifted, just briefly, before he struck. It was a subtle movement, but one I had seen before.

"Elara," I said suddenly, "I need you to find something for me. A list of names—anyone in the court or military with ties to the eastern provinces. Cross-reference it with records of combat training. Look for similarities to the mercenary's style."

She nodded without hesitation. "I'll start immediately."

As she left, I stared into the flickering flames of the fireplace, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to take shape in my mind.

If this mercenary was connected to the court, then the betrayal ran deeper than I had imagined. And if I was to unravel it, I would need to tread carefully.

The threads of deception were tightening around me, but this time, I wouldn't be caught unaware.