The eting ended without further escalation, but the weight of everything that had been said lingered heavily in the chamber as King Highmoor rose from his seat. The Empress followed shortly after, her expression composed, her thoughts unreadable, though it was clear from the silence she maintained that she believed the ssage had been delivered exactly as intended. Lucas and the others moved with them, their departure orderly and without unnecessary delay, leaving behind a room that was no longer divided by noise, but by doubt.
The King of Blackmare did not attempt to stop them.
He remained seated, his gaze distant, his mind clearly occupied with the implications of what had just transpired. His chiefs, once loud and certain, were now subdued, each lost in their own thoughts, while the queen watched quietly, her eyes lingering on the departing figures as though asuring the truth behind their warnings.
As the group exited the palace and made their way back through the inner provinces, the earlier hostility from the citizens had not completely faded, but it had softened into sothing more uncertain. Word of what had occurred inside had not yet spread, but the atmosphere itself felt different, as though sothing unseen had shifted beneath the surface.
Lucas walked slightly behind the king, his thoughts steady, until a subtle movent drew his attention.
He glanced back.
Standing near the entrance of the palace, among the royal entourage, was the elder princess.
She was watching him.
Not casually, not by chance, but directly, her gaze unwavering even as the distance between them slowly increased. There was a quiet confidence in the way she held his eyes, sothing deliberate and unhidden. Then, just before the distance grew too great, her lips curved faintly, and she gave him a slow, bold wink, one that carried far more intent than playfulness.
Lucas did not react outwardly.
But he did not look away imdiately either.
Then the mont passed, and he turned forward again, continuing on with the group as though nothing had happened.
The journey back to their encampnt was quieter than before. No one spoke much along the way, each person occupied with their own interpretation of what had taken place and what it could an moving forward. By the ti they arrived, the sun had already begun its descent, casting long shadows across the camp.
Once inside the command tent, the discussion began almost imdiately.
Captain Varran was the first to speak, his tone practical. "They will not decide lightly," he said. "A shift like this will divide their court further before it unifies anything."
Commander Alexander nodded slightly. "If the Empress is correct, and there are traitors among their chiefs, then any delay works against them. Those individuals will act the mont they sense hesitation."
Henrietta crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful. "Or they will move faster now," she added. "If they believe their exposure is near, they may accelerate whatever plans they have."
King Highmoor stood near the central table, his gaze fixed on the map before him. "Both are possibilities," he said. "The question is which one happens first."
Lucas stepped closer, his voice calm but firm. "They will hesitate," he said. "Not because they doubt the threat, but because they fear making the wrong choice."
The Empress, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. "Hesitation is exactly what the usurpers rely on," she said. "If Blackmare does not act decisively, then the outco becos predictable."
The Empress shifted her attention back to the map, her tone quieter now, but no less certain. "We have done what we can," she said. "The rest depends on whether their king is willing to see beyond pride and fear."
King Highmoor exhaled slowly. "And whether he can act before it is too late."
———-
A few days passed in a tense but controlled rhythm within the encampnt, where every report, every movent, and every whisper of news from beyond their borders was weighed with growing urgency. The matter of Blackmare lingered in all their minds, unresolved yet impossible to ignore, but life within the camp did not pause. Preparations continued, scouts moved in and out, and the quiet expectation of sothing imminent pressed steadily against everyone’s patience.
It was in the midst of this waiting that a small group was spotted approaching from the outer periter.
At first, it drew little attention, as arrivals were not uncommon, but as the figures ca closer, recognition spread quickly among those stationed near the entrance. Old Lady Flora was at the front, her posture steady despite the long journey, her presence imdiately commanding attention. Behind her were two n from Lucas’s squad, their movents disciplined, their expressions carrying the fatigue of travel but also the relief of having reached their destination. And walking with them, calm and composed, was a figure many had not expected to see again so soon.
Sage Raph.
By the ti they reached the central grounds of the encampnt, several familiar faces had already gathered, drawn by both curiosity and recognition. Lucas was among the first to step forward, his usual composure breaking the mont his eyes settled on the sage.
For a brief second, he simply looked at him, as if confirming that what he was seeing was real.
Then he closed the distance.
"Sage," Lucas said, his voice carrying a rare warmth as he stepped in and embraced him without hesitation.
Raph returned the gesture just as firmly, a faint smile forming on his face, one that carried both relief and quiet satisfaction. "You look well," he said as they parted slightly.
"And you are alive," Lucas replied, his tone lighter than usual, though the aning behind the words was clear.
"I’m tough, kid," Raph answered calmly.
Behind them, Lady Cecilia approached, her usual composure softening the mont she saw him clearly. "We were told of your condition," she said, her voice carrying genuine concern. "It is good to see you standing again."
Lady Isabelle stood beside her, nodding in agreent, her expression warm in a way that was rare for her. "You have caused quite a bit of worry," she added, though there was no reproach in her tone.
Raph inclined his head slightly. "My apologies," he said. "It seems I am more difficult to remove from this world than expected."
A faint, quiet chuckle followed his words, easing so of the tension that had been hanging over the mont.
Lady Flora stepped forward then, her gaze moving between them before settling on Lucas. "He recovered faster than anticipated," she said. "Though I would not say it was without difficulty."
Raph gave a small glance in her direction. "That is an understatent."
Lucas studied him briefly, as if searching for any lingering weakness, but whatever he saw seed to satisfy him, because he gave a small nod.
"It is good you are back," he said.
Raph’s expression grew slightly more serious. "I would not have returned unless it mattered," he replied.
That shifted the tone again.
The brief mont of reunion settled into sothing more purposeful, a reminder that his return was not just fortunate, but likely tied to sothing important. Around them, the others seed to sense it as well, their attention sharpening slightly as the initial relief gave way to quiet anticipation.
Whatever he had co back with, it was not going to be insignificant.
Sage Raph was escorted into one of the quieter command tents, away from the movent and noise of the encampnt. Inside, the atmosphere was calr, the air steady, lit by a few controlled lanterns that cast soft light across the interior. A table had been cleared for them, and once he was seated, Lucas took a position across from him while the others remained nearby, listening but allowing space for the exchange.
For a mont, Raph simply looked at Lucas, studying him with quiet intent.
"I rember fragnts," he said at last, his voice calm but thoughtful. "Pain. Pressure. Then nothing. After that... it is blank."
Lucas nodded slightly, leaning forward just enough to rest his arm against the table. "You were already gone by the ti we reached you," he said. "Unconscious, barely holding on."
Raph did not react outwardly, but his gaze sharpened just a little. "Then start from there," he said. "What exactly happened."
Lucas exhaled once before continuing, his tone steady as he recalled the sequence.
"We found you in one of the storage rooms converted to a cell," he said. "The situation was already compromised. Whatever they used on you, it was not ant to leave you alive for long."
Lady Flora, who stood nearby, folded her arms lightly as she listened, her expression tightening slightly at the mory.
"We had to move quickly," Lucas continued. "There was no ti for careful planning. We had to disguise and wear the guard’s armour to get to you directly."
Raph’s eyes narrowed slightly. "And they didn’t know."
"They didn’t ," Lucas replied calmly.
A brief silence followed as Raph absorbed that.
"You carried out," he said, more as a conclusion than a question.
Lucas nodded. "You were not in a state to move. Darmian had to carry you."
"And the others," Raph asked, glancing briefly toward the two n from Lucas’s squad who had accompanied Lady Flora. "They made it out as well."
"They helped in escaping the town," Lucas said. "Without them, it would not have worked."
One of the n gave a small nod, though he said nothing.
Raph leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful now. "I owe all of you more than thanks," he said quietly.
"You owe nothing," Lucas replied without hesitation. "You would have done the sa."
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