On a road to the south, between mist-covered hills, a dark carriage moved slowly forward.
Above its roof fluttered the imperial banner: a golden serpent on a crimson field, the symbol of the Ferrussi dynasty.
Inside traveled the Third Imperial Prince, Leopoldo Ferrussi.
He tapped his fingers against the armrest, unable to contain his anger.
His young, arrogant face was twisted with humiliation.
—Damn it...
He clenched his teeth.
—Humiliated by that haughty princess... by that bastard Douglas... and even by my own sister.
He had traveled to the kingdom with high expectations.
He had hoped to win Elizabeth's favor and, through her, open the door to a future political alliance.
Instead, he had been treated like a spoiled child.
And then ignored.
Leopoldo clenched his fists.
Just wait, Elizabeth.
When the Empire claims these lands, I'll make you pay for every insult.
I'll make you beg for my mercy.
The carriage continued forward.
The sound of hooves and the wind moving through the trees broke the silence of the afternoon.
Then everything stopped.
The carriage lurched violently.
Leopoldo grabbed the seat.
—What...?
A muffled scream came from outside.
Then the sound of steel.
A cry of pain.
The dull impact of a body hitting the ground.
And then...
A metallic roar shook the carriage.
Leopoldo turned pale.
—What does this mean?
Chacal tilted his head slightly.
—My dear prince.
His voice was calm.
Far too calm.
—I am sorry you had to find out this way.
Leopoldo took a step backward.
—Find out what?
Chacal raised his sword.
The blade began to glow with an intense blue radiance.
—That your journey ends here.
All color drained from Leopoldo's face.
—What...?
—Your death will serve a purpose.
—I'm the Third Prince of the Empire!
—I know.
The answer came immediately.
Cold.
Leopoldo swallowed.
—Then... why?
Chacal remained silent for several seconds.
—Because you failed.
Leopoldo froze.
Those words hurt more than the sword ever could.
Chacal continued:
—Your mission was simple. Approach Princess Elizabeth. Gain her trust. If possible, turn that relationship into an advantage for the Empire.
Leopoldo clenched his teeth.
He didn't need to be reminded.
He had failed.
Elizabeth had never returned his feelings.
Worse, he had ended up humiliated in front of her.
—I did everything I could...
—I know.
Chacal looked directly into his eyes.
—But it wasn't enough.
Leopoldo lowered his gaze.
For the first time since leaving the Empire, he felt no anger.
He felt shame.
He had returned empty-handed.
No alliance.
No influence.
No princess.
Nothing to show for himself.
—Did my father order this?
Chacal did not answer.
He didn't have to.
Leopoldo let out a small, bitter laugh.
—I understand...
He looked down at his hands.
—He doesn't consider me useful anymore.
—You're wrong.
Leopoldo raised his head.
Chacal slowly lowered his sword.
—Your father does not consider you useless.
—Then why...?
Chacal pointed toward the corpses covering the road.
—Because you can still accomplish something important.
Leopoldo followed the direction of his sword.
The imperial soldiers.
The horses.
The carriage.
Everything was there.
Everything could become a story.
—An imperial prince murdered on foreign soil —Chacal said—. An entire escort slaughtered. An unprovoked attack.
Leopoldo began to understand.
His face grew pale.
—A war...
—Yes.
The wind swept across the road.
Leopoldo remained silent.
His father had already decided his fate.
But he would not allow him to die as a simple failure.
His death would have consequences.
Thousands of soldiers would march beneath his name.
Thousands of people would remember the day the Third Imperial Prince was murdered.
—So even now...
Leopoldo gave a small smile.
—I'm still a tool.
Chacal did not deny it.
—Yes.
The honesty of that answer was almost worse than the sword.
Leopoldo closed his eyes.
He remembered the capital.
Elizabeth.
The laughter.
The contemptuous looks.
Lusian's face.
Everything he had wanted to prove.
Everything he had tried to achieve.
And now he was going to die.
Not as the prince he had imagined becoming.
But as a piece sacrificed by the Empire.
He opened his eyes.
—At least... will it serve a purpose?
—Yes.
—Really?
—Your death will be the reason the Empire marches against this kingdom.
Leopoldo looked at the imperial banner above the carriage.
The golden serpent fluttered against the crimson field.
His family.
His father.
His Empire.
A sad smile appeared on his face.
—Then...
He straightened his back.
—I suppose I can still do something right.
Chacal watched him silently for several seconds.
—I never thought I would have to tell you this, Your Highness.
Leopoldo raised his eyes.
—Tell me what?
—Your father does not consider you a failure.
Leopoldo's eyes widened slightly.
—He doesn't?
Chacal slowly shook his head.
—He considers your first mission a failure. That is different.
He paused.
—But you can still fulfill one last mission.
Leopoldo remained motionless.
Those words reached a place inside him that he had been trying to hide for hours.
His eyes began to grow moist.
He didn't know whether they were true.
Perhaps Chacal was only trying to make what was about to happen easier for him.
But he wanted to believe him.
For once, he wanted to believe that his father still saw something in him.
Even if it was something that could only be used one last time.
He took a deep breath.
Then straightened his back even further.
He was no longer trembling.
—Then do it.
Chacal remained still.
—Are you certain?
Leopoldo smiled.
—I don't want to beg.
He looked at the imperial banner one last time.
The golden serpent fluttered against the crimson field.
—If I'm going to do something for the Empire...
He clenched his fists.
—Then I'll do it as a prince.
Chacal slowly bowed his head.
—As you command, Your Highness.
Leopoldo closed his eyes.
—Chacal...
—Yes?
—When you return...
He opened his eyes one last time.
—Tell my father I'm sorry.
Chacal took several seconds to answer.
—I will.
Leopoldo swallowed.
—And tell him...
His voice trembled.
—That this time, I didn't fail.
Chacal raised his sword.
The blade began to glow once more.
—No, Your Highness.
The general looked at him one last time.
—This time, you didn't.
The blade descended.
It was a clean movement.
Precise.
Without hatred.
The prince's body fell onto the dust.
For several seconds, Chacal remained motionless.
Then he closed his eyes.
—Rest now, Leopoldo.
He slowly wiped the blood from his sword.
—Your final mission has begun.
He turned away.
—Burn everything.
A torch was thrown into the carriage.
The flames began consuming the wood.
The imperial banner caught fire.
The golden serpent slowly disappeared among the flames.
And with it, the last evidence of what had truly happened.