But
Julian closed his eyes.
The other side of the calculation was not comfortable.
He was operating inside a body that was not his own, in a world that was not his native ground, with a fraction of his God’s realm power. Kraven’s sea of consciousness was eighty percent corrupted black fla that he was actively avoiding disturbing.
One wrong move — one mont of genuine suspicion from the Servant of Death — and that connection would be felt.
And if the Servant identified him —
Julian thought about that carefully.
He had died once already. He had also reincarnated once.
But that was not by choice. It simply happened, driven by sothing he didn’t fully understand yet.
If they killed him again — Julian genuinely did not know what would happen.
He had no guarantee the sa chanism would activate. No certainty that there was anything waiting on the other side of a second death.
He stared at the ceiling.
If I die again, that might simply be the end.
The thought didn’t frighten him — not exactly. But it sat differently than most thoughts did. Heavier.
He was not invincible here. Overconfidence in this situation ca with a cost.
He turned onto his side.
The mana lamps radiated warm light across the far wall, and Julian watched the shadows for a mont without thinking about anything.
Then he thought: but staying away solves nothing either.
He ca to this world for a reason and running from the opportunity wouldn’t keep him safe. It would simply delay the collision while the Servant continued its work in the darkness.
At least if I go, I go with my eyes open.
He exhaled again and hardened his decision.
He would go to the duchy.
**
The morning arrived faster than Julian had expected.
One mont he was staring at the ceiling, the next, a knock cut through the silence.
He lay still for a breath, orienting himself.
The mana lamps had burned low overnight, and the room was dim with the particular grey light that ca just before sunrise.
Another knock.
"A mont," he called out. Kraven’s voice ca out rougher with sleep than it did in the evening.
He rose from the bed and crossed to the door, unlocking it.
Eric stood in the corridor, already fully dressed and composed.
"Young lord," he said. "It’s ti."
Julian nodded once. "Five minutes. Have everything ready by then."
Eric bowed and turned without another word, his footsteps already fading down the corridor before Julian had closed the door.
Julian quickly moved around the room.
He splashed cold water on his face from the basin and let it do its work. He then dressed in a clean white shirt and simple black trousers. Kraven’s wardrobe had no shortage of luxurious options, but this morning wasn’t about impression. It was about beginning a very long and very careful performance in front of people who knew the original far better than Julian did.
Simple was safer.
He ran a hand through Kraven’s hair, looked at the mirror once, and decided it was enough.
The front courtyard was already bustling when he stepped outside.
The morning air was cold and fresh, and it successfully wiped away the last remnants of his sleep.
At the center of the courtyard stood a massive carriage.
It was an Astran carriage. The body was built of a deep, polished obsidian, and the fittings that ran along its fra were gold. Four horses stood harnessed at the front, their breath rising in small clouds in the cold morning air.
Two guards flanked the carriage on either side. Several more were already mounted, arranged in a loose formation that would beco an escort once they moved.
Eric stood to the right of the carriage door, hands clasped behind his back.
And his father was already inside.
Julian could see the Duke’s profile through the carriage window. He approached them and stopped in front of Eric.
The old guard t his eyes briefly, waiting for instruction.
Julian held the look for a mont, then nodded once.
It was the kind of nod that didn’t require a response. Eric seed to understand that, because he simply returned it, stepped aside, and opened the carriage door.
Julian climbed in and settled into the seat across from his father.
The Duke glanced at him as he sat, then his gaze returned back to the window.
Neither of them spoke.
The carriage door closed behind Julian. Outside, he heard Eric’s voice issuing instructions and soon the carriage began to move.
**
The carriage moved at a steady pace through open road, and the silence between Julian and his father had settled into sothing almost comfortable.
Almost.
Julian sat with his back to the horses, watching the countryside pass through the window. Rolling fields, scattered trees, the occasional farmhouse set back from the road. The Astran duchy was still hours away and the landscape offered nothing that demanded attention.
His father sat across from him, straight-backed and still, as he had been for most of the journey.
Then, without any hint, the Duke spoke.
"Have you ever t the King personally?"
The question ca in a tone Julian hadn’t heard from him before. Not the asured evaluation of the previous night. Sothing quieter. Almost conversational. The kind of question a father asked a son when there was nothing else pressing and the road was long.
Julian didn’t look at him imdiately.
He kept his eyes on the window for a mont, letting the pause breathe naturally, the way Kraven might have before answering sothing that touched on the family.
"Not personally," he said. "I saw him briefly during a formal reception. When I accompanied my sister to the capital." He glanced at his father then, just long enough. "We were not introduced."
The Duke absorbed this without visible reaction.
"I see," he said.
The conversation didn’t continue. It didn’t need to. The Duke looked back toward the front of the carriage, and the silence returned, and Julian returned his attention to the window.
Internally, he noted the lie had landed cleanly.
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