Duke Cedric returned to his tent with a satisfied smile, his boots crunching softly against the cold ground. Sam trailed behind, his grin wide and full of praise.
"Congratulations on winning the princess over, my lord," Sam said, his voice warm but sly.
Cedric's chest swelled with pride, his posture tall and commanding. "There is nothing I cannot achieve once I set my mind to it," he said confidently, as if it were the most natural truth.
Sam chuckled. "Of course, my lord. You're the sharpest mind in this entire convoy. Lord Blackthorn will never even see the strike coming."
The words pleased Cedric, his arrogance wrapping around him like armor. But soon, his expression shifted, growing colder and sharper. "The princess wants Malin removed," he said.
Sam's smile turned thin. "That much is expected. The boy has become far too important to Lord Blackthorn. A weakness he had tried hard to hide.
