The Sileus gang was puzzled by the guards' behavior ... what were they up to? What kind of plot were they cooking up on a slow fire?
One guard leaned toward the other:
— "I'm sick of this game. How about we share a few jokes?"
The other smirked:
— "A teacher once asked his students: If you had to choose between 100 coins or intelligence, what would you pick?
One student immediately shouted: The 100 coins, of course!
The teacher said: If I were you, I'd have picked intelligence.
The student replied: Well, we all choose what we lack, sir."
Laughter erupted.
Then, one of the gang members couldn't help but join in:
— "That reminds me of a joke: A drunk man looked at himself in the mirror and said, This face looks familiar…
He turned around and gasped: Ah, I get it now—he must be a spy!"
The guards laughed, unbothered, carrying on with their little party.
The night passed. The sun rose. No one slept.
The three guards left, and three others replaced them.
When they noticed the gang beginning to doze off, they dumped a bucket of cold water on them.
One said with a wicked grin:
— "Our shift with you has just begun… No sleep from now on, hahaha!"
The gang groaned, their eyes bloodshot, their bodies drained. They could think of nothing—nothing—except sleep. Just one minute. That's all they wanted.
But the guards showed no mercy. Every time someone's eyes closed, a slap landed or a splash of cold water followed.
Jokes, stories, laughter—whatever it took to keep the torment alive.
Walter stepped into the cell, smiling.
— "How are we doing today?"
One of Selius' men replied with mockery:
— "Your guards are brilliant clowns. You all should join the circus!"
Walter chuckled:
— "And you lot… you'd make fine dancers at the circus gate, dressed in grandma's dresses and festive ribbons!"
The man burst out laughing:
— "Hahaha! You've got quite the imagination, Walter!"
Walter then turned to his men, the humor fading from his tone:
— "Stay sharp. I don't want a single mistake."
He left, a strange sense of satisfaction creeping in—perhaps the plan was working.
———
Meanwhile, the prince felt a heavy weight pressing down on his chest, as if the very walls of his study were closing in. He decided to step outside for a brief breath of peace.
In the hall, he caught sight of Mera standing among the maids. They were laughing together, speaking softly and playfully.
His heart betrayed him—it skipped, then pounded, uninvited.
As always, he ignored the flutter that rattled his focus, changed direction at once, and made his way to the stables.
There, he stood silently before a white mare, staring into her deep, calm eyes.
He asked the stablemaster:
— "When will she give birth?"
The old man gently patted the mare's neck and replied:
— "I'm not sure, Your Highness… but very soon."
The prince's voice was quiet, almost tender:
— "Take good care of her."
Just as he turned to leave, the stablemaster called out hesitantly:
— "Forgive me, my prince… the sheep need to be taken to pasture."
Raven didn't turn around. His voice came distant, wary:
— "Not now. Things are too uncertain… I fear Selius' men are watching our every move."
Concern deepened in the old man's face:
— "Let us hope these days pass safely..."
The prince murmured, almost to himself:
— "So do I…"
A messenger from the ruler arrived, requesting an immediate audience with the prince.
Annoyance flickered in Raven's eyes as he muttered through clenched teeth:
— "What does he want from me now?"
He rose and prepared to leave. Walter stepped forward firmly:
— "I'll come with you."
But Raven stopped him with a sharp glance:
— "No. Stay here… keep pressing the gang. Try again."
— "But Your Highness—"
— "I'm not a child, Walter. I'll find out what he wants and return."
———
Inside the grand palace, its golden walls gleaming—
Raven entered wearing his black cloak, his confident strides slicing through the silence. His sharp eyes scanned the guards and handmaidens as he searched for one face—his mother's.
He found her.
Curled up in a corner of the stables, trembling as she scrubbed clothes with frail, blistered hands. Her face pale. Sweat streamed down her temples… despite the cold.
Raven's steps faltered.
He knelt before her and took her shaking hands in his:
— "Mother… please, don't strain yourself."
She smiled faintly through exhaustion and whispered:
— "Don't worry about me, my son. What matters is you. Stay away from the Queen's schemes…"
Tears welled in Raven's eyes as he hugged her tightly:
— "I promise, Mother… I'll save you, heart of my heart. Just hold on."
She held his face and murmured:
— "Leave this place. Go far… live in peace."
He gently stroked her cheek:
"If you go, I go with you. Take care of yourself… until I find a way to bring you with me."
He left, her heart silently breaking. She didn't want to let him go… but she had to
Inside the palace hall…
The ruler sat on his throne, his Queen beside him.
Raven approached, bowed respectfully—though he never fully lowered his head.
The ruler said:
— "Finally, you've arrived."
Raven's expression hardened:
— "What is it you want from me?"
The ruler spoke with weight:
— "There is a plague spreading in the village of Dalma. No prince dares to approach it. The people are dying. I fear this disaster could grow."
The Queen, with a sly smile, added:
— "And you, Raven… you're brave, aren't you? Strong and fearless?"
Raven's gaze sharpened, ignoring her mockery:
— "You want me to walk into a plague-ridden village? Alone?"
The ruler said, almost solemnly:
— "I ask it of you, Raven. This is what sets you apart."
Raven clenched his fists:
— "Entering that place… is stepping into death itself. Do you truly wish to send me there?"
The ruler sighed heavily:
— "Do it… for yourself. If you succeed—I will release your mother from her bondage."
The Queen snapped:
— "We never agreed on that!"
The ruler cut her off, voice firm:
— "I'm sending my son into death. If he returns… he deserves to be honored as the hero he is."
Furious, the Queen stood and stormed out.
Raven stood tall:
— "Then, to ensure my mother's safety… send her to my estate. Whether I die, I'll have sacrificed for her—and if I return, I'll emerge with the courage you hoped to see in me."
The ruler nodded, smiling faintly:
— "Granted."
Raven bowed:
— "Then with your permission… I'll take her with me."
———
He rushed back to the stables.
— "You're coming with me."
— "Where…?"
— "To your son's palace."
— "But… is that truly allowed?"
— "The ruler himself gave the order. Let's go."
Joy filled her face like sunlight breaking clouds:
— "He allowed it… truly?"
Raven smiled softly:
— "Yes, Mother."
She laughed like a child, hurrying to prepare herself.
And so, he brought her with him… to his quiet little palace, where love and loyalty awaited their next storm.