The rest of the journey was uneventful. They reached the estate without any further trouble.
As soon as the carriage pulled into the manor grounds, Fenric stepped out.
He headed inside without a word.
The old maids and butlers—those who had served him for years—were already waiting at the entrance, their belongings packed. Silent. Heads bowed. A few of the older ones had tears in their eyes.
But Fenric didn't stop.
He didn't speak to them.
He simply walked past without a glance.
The message had already been sent.
Loyalty to the Third Prince was no longer optional—it was a requirement. And betrayal had consequences.
The last thing he saw from the corner of his eye was the older head maid giving a deep bow, her shoulders shaking. But he didn't turn back.
Not even once.
Instead, he shifted his gaze to the group now lined up at the side of the courtyard.
The slaves.
No longer in chains.
