While Christopher was saying all this, Wellesley quietly looked into his eyes.
There was madness there—not rage, but the cold, dangerous kind. A fire that wouldn't burn out until it consumed the one responsible.
Wellesley gently touched his cheek, grounding him.
"Okay," she said softly. "You can go. But promise me one thing."
Christopher didn't even hesitate. "What is it?"
"If you ever feel your life is in danger, you'll call me through the video communication device. No delays, no excuses."
He nodded, then leaned forward and rested his head on her shoulder.
They shared a quiet moment, just the two of them. The tension, the planning, the madness—all of it faded for a few precious breaths.
Then Wellesley asked, "Your Highness, when will you leave?"
"Tonight," Christopher replied.
"Tonight meaning today?" Wellesley repeated, blinking as though she had heard something terribly wrong.
From inside, the Prince's voice echoed,
"Hey, idiot. She's reacting like that because the you she knows doesn't even know how to pack. She's panicking for a reason."
Christopher winced internally.
'Wait, are you serious? You didn't even know how to pack?'
"Why would I?" the Prince shot back smugly. "I had staff. I pointed, they folded."
Christopher thought, 'Great. Now I have to pretend to be clueless too or she'll get suspicious.'
He lifted his head from Wellesley's shoulder and blinked innocently at her.
"What's so strange about that? Why are you reacting like this?"
"Your Highness," Wellesley said patiently, "you're leaving tonight and you haven't even started packing."
Christopher shrugged. "What's the need? We've got a storage ring. I'll just toss everything in there, right?"
Wellesley stared at him, sighed, and massaged her forehead.
"Your Highness… you said you're leaving quietly so the First Prince doesn't find out. That means no servants. You're packing alone."
"Yes, exactly. I'll throw everything into the ring and leave. No one will even know," Christopher repeated, still feigning oblivious confidence.
Wellesley gave him a strange look, then began explaining like she was talking to a child,
"Your Highness, your storage ring is extremely rare. Only about thirty people in the entire world own one. If you use it openly, people will notice. It will scream that you're someone important. That defeats the purpose of going incognito. Which is why you'll need a backpack—for the basics at least."
Christopher gave a sheepish laugh. "So… I have to pack. And you're going to help me, right?"
"We don't have much time. Come on."
She began packing swiftly, efficiently. Magic stones, extra clothes, food—all neatly folded and prepared. The essentials went into the backpack. The valuables went into the ring.
Before sealing the pack, she looked him dead in the eye.
"You will only use this ring when no one's watching. No exceptions. Got it?"
Christopher waved a hand. "Yes, yes, I got it. How many times will you say it? You've said it three times already."
Wellesley gave him a look, somewhere between fond and exhausted.
He was acting… different. Almost boyish.
'In all the time I've known Christopher, I've never seen this side of him. He's lowering his guard around me… is it because he's finally started to love me?'
As the thought drifted through her mind, another question surfaced.
"Your Highness, you're taking someone with you, right?"
Without thinking, Christopher nodded. "Yes. We two are going."
Wellesley visibly brightened.
'At least he's not going alone. Maybe I can relax a little.'
"And who are you taking with you?" she asked.
Christopher opened his mouth to say 'me and the Prince', but stopped just in time. Right—he and the Prince were the same now. That would've been a massive mistake.
So he blurted, "Me and… I mean, I'm taking my horse with me."
Silence. Then—
"HAHAHA. Wow." The Prince roared with laughter inside his mind. "This is entertainment! One simple question and you nearly gave yourself away."
Christopher ignored him, but Wellesley wasn't done.
"Your Highness," she said, staring at him, "how can you say two are going when the other one's just a horse? That doesn't count."
She folded her arms. "Why don't you take a guard with you? Someone reliable, discreet. He'll protect you and I'll have a bit of peace. I promise, he won't interfere with your work."