The morning sun struggled to pierce the grey mist as Adel helped me dress. Unlike the "pristine white" of the Opening Feast, today I wore a simpler gown of heavy grey wool, trimmed with white fur. It was elegant, but practical.
As Adel fastened the heavy clasps, I looked at her reflection in the mirror.
"Adel," I asked, breaking the comfortable silence. "I realized something. What actually happens in a Royal Hunt?"
Adel paused, a small, amused smile touching her lips. "It is quite simple, My Lady. It is a play in three acts."
She moved to adjust my cuffs, her voice taking on a lighter, explanatory tone.
"First, the Departure. The Master of the Hunt from the Royal Family will sound the horn. Everyone who participates in the hunt will gather around. As the King is absent, the Crown Prince acts as his representative and will give a speech. Sometimes the speech is about glory or ancestors. Usually, it is quite long."
"And then?"
"Then, the Hunt begins. The men—and Lady Eliana, obviously—will ride into the forest to chase the game. The goal is the White Stag, as rumors are spreading across the Kingdom that it has appeared in this area. However, boars and regular deer are also acceptable prizes."
"What do we do while they are gone? Do we just… stand there?"
"Heavens no, My Lady," Adel laughed softly. "That is the Second Act: the Sanctuary. The ladies retire to the Viewing Pavilion. There will be tea, warm wine, and entertainment like music. While the men hunt beasts in the forest, the ladies hunt for secrecy, political influence, and social status. Arguably, it is more dangerous than the forest."
"And the Third Act?"
"The Return," Adel said, finishing the final clasp. "The hunters return in three days. The prizes are presented, the winner is crowned, and a feast is held to celebrate the catch."
"So," I said, "I just have to survive a long speech, drink tea with Duchesses or other nobles, and applaud when a deer is brought in?"
"Essentially, My Lady," Adel said, stepping back to admire her work. "It sounds relaxing, does it not?"
"Relaxing, huh?" I whispered, but I smiled. "Sure. It's relaxing compared to what we witnessed and discussed last night."
My mother swept into the room, dressed in a sharp riding habit of pearl-grey silk.
"You look prepared, Aurelia," she said, her eyes scanning my attire with approval. She reached out, her gloved hand resting briefly on my shoulder. "Practical. Sharp."
She withdrew her hand and turned toward the door.
"Come," she commanded softly. "Your brother is preparing to depart. You should see him off."
..
I walked outside. Immediately, the noise was deafening—horses stamping, metal clashing, men shouting orders, and the baying of hounds.
I spotted Aurelio near the weapon wagons. He looked so grown up in his white leather armor. Felix was beside him, sharpening a dagger, and Alecia was laughing loudly, swinging her Great Axe as if it were a toy.
I took a deep breath and walked over to them.
"Aurelio," I called out, trying to force warmth into my voice. "The forest is dense today. Keep your eyes sharp."
He didn't turn around. He continued checking his saddle girth.
"I know how to hunt, Sister," he said, his voice cold and flat. "I do not need you to tell me about the forest."
Before the silence could stretch too long, Alecia stepped in. She slapped Aurelio on the back hard enough to make him wince.
"Don't worry!" Alecia laughed. "We'll bring back something bigger, yeah?"
Suddenly, Aurelio's cold expression evaporated instantly. He looked at Alecia and smiled—genuinely, warmly.
"Right…"
He mounted his Courser and rode toward the center of the clearing without looking back at me once.
I stood there, frozen. It wasn't just that he was distant. It was that he had found warmth elsewhere. With Felix and Alecia.
What would happen if I didn't save them? I wondered, a pang in my chest. Would Aurelio act the same or differently toward me? Was my action a good thing, or did I just create a wall between us?
…
We moved to the edge of the clearing to watch the ceremony. My heart was still racing from the encounter and my own dark questions.
We turned our attention to the gathering armies. It was a chaotic sea of movement, but amidst the horses and the participants, the packs of Hounds caught my eye. Hundreds of them gathered among the nobles, yet the four main houses stole the spotlight.
"Adel," I whispered. "I have never seen so many… varieties of hounds before. What are they?"
Adel followed my gaze. "They are reflections of their House, My Lady."
She pointed to the Royal pack first.
"The Royal Family uses Greyhounds and Alaunts. Built for speed and elegance. They hunt by sight and are designed for the spectacle."
I looked at the sleek white dogs with their blue velvet collars. Beautiful, but somehow fragile.
"Mastiffs," a voice said behind me.
I turned around. It was Lady Octavi, walking toward me. She pointed to the red-draped dogs of the East.
"War dogs. They do not chase; they wrestle. House Aemilia uses them to pin down boars or maybe bears. They are blunt instruments of violence."
"And House Valerius?" I asked, looking at the silent black pack trailing the Duchess's empty camp.
"Lymers," Adel said. "Scent hounds. They hunt in silence. Once a Lymer has your scent, you cannot hide. They are known as the Bloodhunt."
Then, I looked at our own pavilion. Beside the Aurelius horses, a pack of medium-sized, alert dogs sat waiting.
"And ours?" I asked.
"Raches," Lady Octavi said with pride. "Balanced. Intelligent. They do not just chase or kill; they coordinate."
"Even though these four Houses have their own specialty dogs, they still need others, My Lady," Adel explained. "If the House specialty is a sighthound like the Greyhound, they still need scent hounds like Lymers to track the prey first. The hunt basically relies on two types: Scent Hounds to find, and Sight Hounds to chase."
"Except Greyhounds," Lady Octavi interjected. "Greyhounds are special. The owner of these hounds must be the Royal Family. They are considered a symbol of nobility and prestige. All other nobles are prohibited from owning purebred Greyhounds."
HWOOOOOM.
The Master of the Hunt blew a massive horn, cutting off our conversation.
In the center of the clearing, atop a raised wooden dais draped in blue and gold, the Crown Prince stepped forward. He gave a speech about glory and ancestral tradition, his voice echoing over the silent crowd.
"May the forest yield its prizes to the worthy!" Fabian shouted, raising a gloved fist.
The Master of the Hunt blew the horn again.
With a final roar, the earth shook as hundreds of horses and hounds thundered forward. Crown Prince Fabian, Lady Eliana, my father, and my brother Aurelio vanished into the treeline, chasing glory and the White Stag.
As the dust settled, the clearing felt strangely empty.
Most of the ladies began drifting toward the Tea Pavilion. I saw my mother already walking toward it, chatting with another noblewoman. But I stayed back, needing a moment to breathe.
I looked toward the edge of our encampment.
Near the weapon racks stood Cassius and Valerie. They stood out amid the deserted camp, two warriors with no war to fight.
Cassius spotted me first. His posture instantly relaxed. A warm, genuine smile broke across his face, and he started jogging toward me.
"My Lady!" he called out, raising a hand.
But before he could reach me, the atmosphere in the camp shifted.
There was no sound of marching boots. No clanking of armor. Just the heavy, rhythmic thud of a single horse's hooves hitting the earth.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
I turned.
Riding through the center of the empty lane was Duchess Valerie Valerius.
She was alone.
She sat atop a massive black warhorse, her sharp, marble-pale face exposed to the morning light. She had sent her men, her hounds, and her retainers into the forest. She alone had remained behind.
She was riding the perimeter, inspecting the empty camps with a look of utter boredom.
However, as she passed our camp, her head suddenly snapped to the right. Straight toward the weapon racks where Valerie—the mercenary—was standing alone, sharpening her dual blades.
The Duchess yanked her reins.
She steered her warhorse straight toward the lone mercenary.
Cassius, who was running toward me, skidded to a halt. He looked at me, then back at the Duchess, focusing down on his partner.
The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by cold panic.
He turned on his heel and sprinted back the way he came, placing himself squarely between the charging warhorse and Valerie.
He arrived just as the Duchess pulled her horse to a halt.
From where I stood, I couldn't hear a word. I could only watch.
I saw Cassius plant his feet, his hand hovering over his greatsword, his broad shoulders blocking the Duchess's path. He said something—likely a plea or a warning.
Then, Valerie stepped out from behind Cassius.
She shoved him aside, exposing herself to the Duchess's presence. She didn't bow. She crossed her arms over her chest, defiant.
For a moment, nothing happened. The Duchess looked down with cold indifference.
Then, shocking me to my core, the Duchess suddenly froze.
It was visible even from here. Her posture went rigid. Her hands tightened on the reins until her knuckles turned white. She leaned down from her saddle, staring intently at Valerie's face.
I didn't know what she saw. To me, Valerie just looked like… Valerie. But the Duchess was looking at her as if she were seeing a ghost.
I saw the mercenary say something. One word. Maybe two.
The Duchess stared for a long, agonizing second.
Then, I barely heard it—a short, sharp bark of laughter from the Duchess.
She nodded once to Valerie.
What was that?
The Duchess gathered her reins and turned her horse away from them. She didn't return to the main path. Instead, she rode slowly, deliberately, toward me.
I stood my ground as her warhorse loomed over me, blocking out the sun. The Duchess looked down, her face composed again into a mask of stone.
"You have a sharp eye, Little Aurelius," the Duchess called out.
She glanced back at the weapon racks, focusing on Valerie one last time.
"You…" The Duchess looked back at me, her gaze piercing. "You went out and found yourself a Wolf lost from her pack…"
Suddenly, her voice dropped, becoming dangerously low.
"What do you intend to do with her?"
What did she mean?
I stood frozen. I couldn't answer. I didn't even understand the question.
However, she didn't wait for an answer. She suddenly spurred her horse forward, alone, heading toward her own black pavilion.
I was left standing in her dust, my heart pounding against my ribs.
"Adel," I whispered. "What just happened?"
"I don't know, My Lady," Adel replied, her voice low and tense. "But whatever it was… the Duchess was shaken."
Lady Octavi stepped up beside us, her hand on her sword.
"Maybe My Lady needs to find out who Valerie actually is," Octavi murmured. "Is she just an ordinary mercenary? Or is she something else entirely?"
The only thing I knew was that Valerie and Cassius were part of the Twelve Figures. Bo was also one of them.
These Twelve Figures were the keys to the story. And now, one of them had just shaken the Iron Maiden of the North to her core.