The royal stables lay in the shadow of the Great Palace's eastern wing, where the morning sun had not yet burned away the cool dampness of night. Stone archways opened onto rows of stalls housing the Empire's finest horses, their breath visible in small puffs of vapor. The scent of hay and leather mixed with the earthier smells of animals and well-tended straw.
Yarihc made his way through the corridors with careful steps, his silk slippers making barely a whisper against the stone floor. He had chosen his route deliberately—the servants' passages that connected the palace to the stables were rarely used by nobles at this hour. The corridors were narrow, lit by oil lamps that cast dancing shadows on the walls.
At the stable entrance, he paused to listen. The sound of horses shifting in their stalls reached his ears, along with the rhythmic scraping of a brush against hide. Someone was already at work, despite the early hour.
Yarihc stepped into the main stable area, his eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. The space was vast, with high vaulted ceilings supported by wooden beams. Stalls lined both sides of the central walkway, each housing one of the royal mounts. The horses were magnificent creatures—war steeds from the northern highlands, swift coursers from the southern steppes, and the rare silver-maned destriers that were the pride of the imperial cavalry.
"Good morning, Kael," Yarihc called softly.
A figure emerged from one of the stalls, a brush in his hand and straw clinging to his rough-spun tunic. Kael was perhaps fourteen, with the lean build of someone who had known hunger but was well-fed now. His dark hair was cropped short, and his hands bore the calluses of honest work.
"Your Highness," Kael said, offering a quick bow. His voice carried the accent of the southern provinces—not quite the refined tones of the capital, but not the harsh dialect of the frontier either. "I wasn't expecting..."
"No need for formality," Yarihc said, moving closer. "I often rise early. The palace can be... stifling."
Kael nodded, though his expression remained cautious. In the months since arriving at the palace, he had learned to be wary of unexpected visits from nobles. Most came with demands or complaints.
"I was just grooming Thunderhoof," Kael said, gesturing toward the stall behind him. "She's to carry Prince Darius on his morning ride."
Yarihc glanced at the mare—a powerful bay with intelligent eyes. "Prince Darius's horse. My eldest brother has always preferred the spirited ones."
"Aye, Your Highness. Though she's gentle enough with the right handling."
The young prince moved to examine the horse, running his hand along her neck. Thunderhoof whickered softly, accepting the attention. "You have a gift with them," Yarihc observed. "The horses trust you."
Kael's chest swelled slightly with pride. "My father taught me, before..." He trailed off, the words hanging in the air.
"Before he died in the border skirmishes," Yarihc finished quietly. "I heard. I'm sorry for your loss."
The stable boy's eyes widened slightly. That a prince would know—or care—about the death of a common soldier was unexpected. "Thank you, Your Highness. He died serving the Empire."
"And now you serve it as well, in your own way." Yarihc reached into his robes and withdrew a small cloth bundle. "I brought you something."
Kael accepted the bundle with obvious curiosity. Inside, wrapped in fine linen, were several pieces of crystallized honey—a delicacy that rarely found its way to the servants' quarters. The sweet aroma filled the air between them.
"Your Highness, I cannot—"
"You can," Yarihc said firmly. "A small token of appreciation for your hard work. The stables are always immaculate, the horses well-cared for. Such dedication deserves recognition."
Kael carefully rewrapped the sweets, his movements reverent. "Thank you, Your Highness. This is... this is very kind."
"Tell me, Kael," Yarihc said, settling onto a bale of hay with casual grace, "what do you hear in the stables? The grooms and handlers must share stories while they work."
The stable boy looked puzzled. "Stories, Your Highness?"
"About the palace, the court, the other princes and princesses. Servants often know more about what happens in the halls than the nobles themselves."
Kael shifted uncomfortably. "I... I wouldn't want to speak out of turn, Your Highness."
"Nothing inappropriate," Yarihc assured him, his voice warm and encouraging. "I simply find it interesting to hear how things appear from different perspectives. The view from the throne room is quite different from the view from the stables, wouldn't you say?"
The stable boy considered this, then nodded slowly. "I suppose that's true, Your Highness."
"For instance," Yarihc continued, "I've heard whispers that Prince Darius has been visiting the training grounds more frequently. Have you noticed anything about his horse's condition? A mount often reflects its rider's activities."
Kael's expression brightened as he moved to safer ground. "Oh, aye, Your Highness. Stormwind—that's Prince Darius's destrier—has been returning quite lathered lately. More so than usual for his morning rides. And there's been mud on the hooves, the kind you get from the practice fields."
"Interesting." Yarihc filed this information away. His second-eldest brother was indeed spending more time in martial training. "And Princess Mira? How does her palfrey fare?"
"Moonbeam is well, Your Highness, though..." Kael hesitated.
"Yes?"
"Well, she's been saddled for evening rides lately. Princess Mira usually prefers the morning, but these past weeks she's been taking Moonbeam out just before sunset."
Yarihc nodded thoughtfully. Evening rides were unusual for his half-sister, who typically spent her evenings in the women's quarters with the other court ladies. "Does she ride alone?"
"Oh, no, Your Highness. Always with her guards. But..." Kael glanced around nervously, then lowered his voice. "I heard one of the grooms mention that they've been heading toward the eastern gardens. The ones near the old shrine."
The eastern gardens were largely abandoned, overgrown with flowering vines and shadowed by ancient trees. They had once been the site of a small temple to one of the river orishas, but the shrine had fallen into disrepair decades ago. It was an odd place for a princess to visit regularly.
"The guards don't mind these evening excursions?" Yarihc asked.
"They seem... content with them, Your Highness. More so than usual." Kael's voice carried a hint of something—not quite suspicion, but puzzlement.
Yarihc understood. Guards who were normally vigilant about their charges' activities would only grow complacent if they were being compensated for their discretion. His half-sister was meeting someone, and paying for privacy.
"You observe much, Kael," he said with genuine appreciation. "It's a valuable skill."
The stable boy flushed with pride. "I try to do my duties properly, Your Highness."
"And what of the other servants? Do they speak of court matters?"
"Sometimes, Your Highness. Though I try not to listen to gossip."
"Of course not," Yarihc said smoothly. "But if you were to overhear something—accidentally, of course—what sorts of things concern the staff?"
Kael considered this carefully. "Well, there's been talk about the northern delegations. The kitchen staff have been preparing for more guests than usual. And the seamstresses have been working late, preparing formal garments."
"Delegations from which houses?"
"I wouldn't know the details, Your Highness. But I heard the head groom mention that we'll need to stable horses for House Storm and House Tide. Extra mounts for their retinues."
Two of the great houses arriving simultaneously was significant. House Storm controlled much of the northern trade routes, while House Tide held sway over the coastal provinces. If they were both sending delegations to court, something important was being discussed.
"And the seamstresses? What manner of garments?"
"Court dress, Your Highness. Very formal, from what I heard. The kind worn for important ceremonies."
Yarihc felt a small thrill of discovery. A ceremony requiring formal dress, with two major houses in attendance. Perhaps a betrothal announcement, or the confirmation of a new alliance. Either way, it was information worth having.
"You have sharp ears, Kael," he said, rising from the hay bale. "I appreciate your... observations."
The stable boy looked pleased but uncertain. "Is there anything else you'd like to know, Your Highness?"
"Nothing specific," Yarihc replied, reaching into his robes again. This time he withdrew a small silver coin—not a fortune, but more than a stable boy might see in a month. "But if you should happen to notice anything else of interest, I would be grateful to hear of it."
Kael accepted the coin with wide eyes. "Your Highness, I... thank you."
"Think nothing of it. Consider it payment for your excellent care of the horses." Yarihc's smile was warm and genuine. "I may visit again soon. The stables are peaceful—a good place to escape the noise of court."
"You're always welcome, Your Highness," Kael said earnestly.
As Yarihc turned to leave, he paused at the stable entrance. "Oh, and Kael? Perhaps it would be best if our conversations remained between us. Some nobles might not understand my interest in the horses' welfare."
The stable boy nodded quickly. "Of course, Your Highness. I wouldn't dream of speaking of it."
Yarihc made his way back through the servants' passages, his mind already processing what he had learned. Prince Darius was increasing his martial training—perhaps preparing for a formal challenge or demonstration. Princess Mira was conducting secret meetings in the abandoned gardens. And two major houses were sending delegations for some sort of ceremony.
Each piece of information was valuable, but more importantly, he had established a reliable source. Kael was hungry for approval and recognition, traits that could be carefully cultivated. The stable boy's position gave him access to information that would never reach the formal channels of court intelligence.
As he reached the main palace corridors, Yarihc allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. The morning had been well spent. A few kind words, some crystallized honey, and a silver coin had purchased him a window into the palace's hidden activities.
The ten-year-old prince straightened his silk robes and prepared to return to his chambers. There would be lessons with his tutors soon, and then the morning court session where he would sit quietly and observe the formal proceedings.
But now he would watch with new eyes, armed with knowledge that others did not possess. The game was always more interesting when you knew the rules that others were following in secret.