The study was dimly lit, its windows shuttered against the evening chill. Marquis Johanne Emberlain sat behind his desk, fingers steepled, eyes fixed on the flickering candlelight. He did not look up when the door creaked open.
Varek entered without ceremony, his boots silent against the polished floor. He stood before the Marquis, waiting.
"Speak," Johanne commanded.
Varek inclined his head once.
"The lake appears normal, my lord. Nothing unusual has occurred—only the presence of the royal soldiers and the duke's men."
The Marquis leaned forward, his expression unreadable.
"The duke?"
"Yes, my lord. But neither the duke himself nor the commander of the royal army was present. Only common soldiers were stationed there."
Johanne fell into deep thought.
"Perhaps the duke and Sir Alden are searching for His Majesty together. And Halric?"
Varek's tone darkened.
"He is preparing a banquet. Drafting letters to the council. One of them proposes a marriage alliance—his son as regent, and your daughter as his bride. He is moving quickly."
The Marquis's jaw tightened.
"Halric's plans are ambitious. Could he be behind the king's disappearance? Did you discover anything to suggest this?"
Varek bowed slightly.
"No, my lord. But I did see a suspicious man arrive at Lord Halric's estate. He noticed me before I could learn his purpose or identity."
Johanne rose from his chair and walked to the window, staring out into the night. His voice was low, deliberate.
"You cannot watch him too closely—if that man truly has ties to Halric, then Halric has already been warned. But I will not sit idle. Watch him from afar. Learn where Halric goes, and who he meets. I need something solid to hold against him."
Varek placed a hand over his chest and bowed.
"Yes, my lord. You can always trust me."
The Marquis turned back, his eyes sharp as steel.
"Good. We may be mourning a king, but we are not blind. Let them play their games. We will be ready."
Varek bowed once more and vanished into the shadows, leaving the study silent except for the crackle of the fire.
But unbeknownst to Johanne, Tiana had already heard everything. She had summoned Varek herself earlier, and the houndmaster was far too close to Lady Tiana to keep secrets from her.
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Elira was now feeling oddly comfortable behind him, the steady rhythm of the stallion's hooves calming her nerves. She admitted to herself that she had been nervous earlier — arguing with Lucan was like throwing stones at a mountain. He was a cruel man, a commander who had killed countless lives without hesitation. Yet here she was, pressed against his back, riding the same horse as him.
The irony wasn't lost on her.
She tightened her grip around his waist, muttering under her breath, "If anyone from my world saw me now, they'd think I was cosplaying some medieval drama."
Lucan's head tilted slightly, though he didn't turn. "What nonsense are you mumbling?"
"Nothing," she said quickly, biting back a laugh. "Just… thinking how ridiculous this is. Me, riding with you. The man who terrifies armies, now stuck with a woman who nearly fell off a horse five minutes ago."
Lucan's shoulders stiffened. "It's not ridiculous. It's inefficient."
Elira smirked, resting her cheek against his cloak. "Oh, forgive me. Inefficient. Right. Because sharing a saddle with me must be the greatest tragedy of your life."
He let out a sharp exhale — not quite a sigh, not quite a growl. "If you fall, I won't catch you again."
"Then I'll just hold tighter," she said, hugging him a little closer. "Congratulations, Lucan. You've officially become my safety belt."
For a moment, she swore she saw his ears redden beneath the edge of his helm. He urged the stallion faster, as if speed could outrun her words.
Elira grinned to herself. Cruel or not, terrifying or not, she had managed to rattle him — and that, in its own way, felt like a small victory.
"Where are we heading?" she asked brightly.
Lucan ignored her, his focus fixed on the road ahead.
She leaned sideways, peeking around his broad shoulders, trying to catch his expression. But he was too tall, too solid, his frame blocking her view entirely.
"Stop moving," he hissed.
"I just thought you didn't hear me," she said, her tone deliberately innocent. "I'm asking you, where are we going? Since I'm with you, I have the audacity of knowing it."
Lucan let out a sharp exhale, the kind that sounded more like a growl than a sigh.
Elira smirked. "You know, you could at least pretend to be polite. A simple 'we're going north' or 'we're going to certain death' would suffice. I'm not picky."
His knuckles tightened on the reins. "You talk too much."
"And you talk too little," she shot back. "Honestly, if I didn't keep the conversation alive, we'd both die of boredom before reaching wherever it is you're dragging me."
Lucan's stallion snorted, as if echoing his irritation. He muttered under his breath, "Even the horse agrees with me."
Elira laughed, hugging him tighter just to annoy him further. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. You'll miss me when I stop talking."
Lucan's jaw clenched. "Then stop now."
"Not a chance," she said cheerfully. "I've decided it's my sacred duty to make sure you don't brood yourself into oblivion."
Lucan urged the stallion faster, as though speed alone could outrun her chatter. But Elira only grinned wider, her voice carrying over the pounding hooves.
She kept going, relentless. "Do you ever sing, Lucan? I bet you don't. You look like the type who thinks humming is a weakness. Or maybe you do sing, but only terrifying war chants. Am I right?"
He didn't answer.
"Fine, fine. What about smiling? Have you ever smiled? I mean, properly smiled, not that scary smirk you give before killing someone. I bet your face would crack if you tried."
Lucan's grip on the reins tightened until his knuckles turned white.
"And don't even get me started on dancing," she continued, her tone mischievous. "I can't imagine you dancing. You'd probably terrify the floorboards into submission."
"Elira." His voice was low, dangerous.
"Yes?" she chirped.
"Shut. Up."
She laughed so hard she nearly lost her balance, clutching him tighter to keep from slipping. "Oh, Lucan, you're too easy to tease. I think I've found my new favorite hobby."
Lucan muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a curse, his stallion breaking into a faster trot as if sharing his frustration.
But no matter how fast he rode, Elira's voice followed him — noisy, relentless, and impossible to silence.
Night had fallen, and the forest pressed in around them with shadows that seemed to shift and breathe. Lucan slowed the stallion, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the path ahead. He had walked this route before, memorized its twists and turns, yet tonight the forest mocked him — every trail looked the same, every tree a mirror of the last.
He pulled the reins sharply, halting the horse. The sudden stop jolted Elira forward, her forehead bumping into his back. She stirred, half-asleep, blinking groggily.
Lucan turned his head slightly, catching sight of her. Her eyes were closed again, her cheek resting against his cloak. She had dozed off, her relentless chatter finally silenced.
For a moment, the quiet was almost unsettling.
Lucan exhaled, low and sharp. "At last," he muttered. "Peace."
The stallion shifted beneath them, stamping its hooves impatiently. Lucan's gaze swept the forest once more, irritation gnawing at him. He hated being uncertain, hated wasting time. And yet, with Elira asleep behind him, the silence felt heavier than the trees themselves.
Then, as if summoned by his thought, she stirred again.
Her voice was soft, drowsy, but still insufferably persistent. "Why'd we stop? Don't tell me you're lost. The great Lucan, commander of armies, defeated by a forest?"
Lucan's jaw tightened. "Go back to sleep."
She yawned, ignoring him. "You know, if you'd just admit you're lost, I wouldn't laugh. Much."
His hand twitched on the reins. "Elira."
"Yes?" she murmured, her tone far too innocent.
"Be silent."
She chuckled weakly, eyes still half-closed. "You're no fun. Even the trees are more talkative than you."
Lucan closed his eyes for a brief moment, as though summoning patience from the darkness. He had faced battlefields drenched in blood, sieges that lasted weeks, enemies who refused to yield. Yet somehow, this woman — half-asleep, noisy even in dreams — was the greatest test of his endurance.
The stallion snorted, tossing its head. Elira giggled softly. "See? Even your rented horse agrees with me."
Lucan cursed under his breath.
The relentless noise had ended for a heartbeat, but now it returned — softer, teasing, unstoppable. And as the night deepened, Lucan realized that silence was a luxury he would never again know while she was at his side.
"If you're not going to stop, I'll kick you out and leave you behind," Lucan warned, his voice low and dangerous.
Elira scoffed, though her laugh carried a nervous edge. "Just do it. I know you can't. I'm… necessary."
Lucan's patience snapped. He jerked his back suddenly, right where her head rested. The motion nearly threw her off balance, and she yelped, clutching his waist in panic.
"Why did you do that?!" she shouted, her voice shrill with outrage, though her grip on him tightened as if she feared he might actually let her fall.
"You wouldn't shut up," he growled.
Elira's glare faltered for a moment. She tightened her hold, her voice dropping into something less playful, more uncertain. "That's not a reason… You almost killed me."
"You said I couldn't," Lucan replied flatly, his tone dripping with irritation.
Her gasp was sharp, but her bravado wavered. "So you tried to prove me wrong? That's childish."
Lucan's jaw clenched. "Childish is talking without end. You've been rattling in my ears since sunrise."
Elira huffed, but this time it wasn't as bold. She pressed her cheek lightly against his cloak, her voice quieter. "Well… someone has to fill the silence. You're like a walking graveyard. Do you even know how depressing you sound when you don't talk?"
Lucan urged the stallion forward, muttering under his breath. "I preferred the graveyard."
Her laugh came, but softer, tinged with nervousness. "Oh, that's the closest thing to a joke I've heard from you. See? You can be funny… even if you don't mean to."
Lucan's shoulders stiffened. "If you call that funny again, I'll throw you off for real."
Elira swallowed, hugging him tighter, her grin faltering into something more cautious. "You won't," she said, though her voice lacked its earlier confidence. "You'd miss me too much… wouldn't you?"
Lucan cursed softly, the stallion snorting as if mocking them both.
Elira forced a small laugh, but inside her chest, her heart thudded faster. She had teased him all day, but now she wasn't sure if she had crossed a line. For the first time, she wondered if her noise was less of a shield and more of a gamble — one that might push the cruel commander past his breaking point.
They were in that uneasy silence when Lucan suddenly stiffened. His gaze swept the darkness ahead, sharp and alert.
"You'd better hold tight," he warned, his voice clipped. Without another word, he urged the stallion into a sudden burst of speed.
Elira jolted, clutching his waist as the horse surged forward. Her head whipped around at the sound that followed — a loud, splintering creak echoing from behind them.
Her eyes widened. "What's happening?" she cried, her voice rising with panic.
Lucan didn't answer immediately. His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed on the path ahead. The stallion's hooves pounded against the earth, carrying them deeper into the forest.
Elira twisted to glance back, her heart hammering. The shadows seemed to shift unnaturally, branches bending as though something massive pressed through them. The creaking grew louder, followed by a low rumble that made the ground tremble beneath the horse's stride.
"Lucan!" she shouted, her voice breaking. "Is someone following us?"
His reply was curt, almost a growl. "Not someone. Something."
Elira's grip tightened, her earlier teasing forgotten. Anxiety clawed at her chest. "Then why are we running? Shouldn't we—"
"Quiet," Lucan snapped. His tone was sharp, but beneath it was a tension she hadn't heard before — not irritation, but focus.
Elira bit her lip, swallowing her words. For once, she obeyed. The forest roared around them, the sound of pursuit growing closer. Whatever was behind them was no ordinary traveler.