Levan frowned at the door, his gaze trailing lower to where the faintest shift of shadow hinted at the princess hunched on the other side. He wondered if she had any idea how easily her muffled squeals and whispers slipped through, even the soft thud of her hands tapping against the panel were all carried straight to him.
Did she not realize he could hear every foolish sound she made? For a second, he thought about opening it just to see her reaction, then irritation flared as he realized he was getting distracted by trivial matters.
Ha...It does not matter.
Levan was about to turn on his heel when a thought struck him. His gaze shifted to the guards stationed outside her chamber, and at once their spines stiffened. Unlike the second prince who was easy with his words and friendly with anyone, the crown prince rarely spared anyone his notice. So when he did, it was enough to leave even a battle-hardened general uneasy.
"If anything happens under your watch, you will answer to me." The command was quiet but edged like a blade.
Both guards went rigid, their hands flying to their chests in salute.
"Yes, Your Highness!" Roderic barked, his voice a little too loud, betraying his nerves.
Alaric, though trying to stand firm, felt sweat bead trickling down at his nape. "We'll not falter, my prince," he added quickly, but his tone cracked halfway through.
Levan's attention lingered on them a fraction longer, long enough to make their knees feel like stone before he finally turned and strode away. The regality in his stride was so imposing that they felt compelled to watch every step he took. Only when he disappeared around the corner did both men exhaled in unison.
"...Saints above," Roderic muttered under his breath, shifting the grip of his clammy hand on his spear. "Why does he look at us like we've already failed?"
Alaric swallowed hard, eyes still fixed forward. "Because if we do, we're as good as dead."
The weight of the day pressed on his shoulders as Levan returned to his chambers. The soft click of the doors shutting behind him muffled the faint echoes of the palace, leaving only silence and the low hum of his own thoughts. Dawn was drawing near, though the sun rose late in this land, soon enough, he would have to move again.
He dragged a hand up the front of his tunic, loosening the clasp with a practiced flick until the collar eased from his throat. His hair, slightly disheveled from the long hours, fell against his brow as he shrugged out of the heavy outer layer with an elegance that seemed entirely unintentional. Even in fatigue, he still looked effortlessly regal.
The Chamberlain, who had been waiting at his post by the writing desk immediately greeted him. "Your Highness. Shall I prepare for your rest?"
Levan strode past, shoulders straight despite the weariness weighing on him. He set the folded tunic aside on the stand, his long fingers brushing the polished wood. "Not yet."
At the answer, the Chamberlain immediately caught the gist of his mood.
"Then, wine, Your Highness?" he offered smoothly. "Or perhaps something lighter to cut the edge of the night?"
Levan's gaze drifted toward the hearth, where the fire burned low, its embers snapping softly in the silence. The restless flames stirred a memory, pulling his thoughts back to Melyn's reckless stunt earlier in the night. While he had refused to give it a thought, seeing his wife just now made him change his mind.
"Marion, arrange an audience for me," Levan said at last, his voice low but carrying. He turned to face the Chamberlain fully, gesturing for the wine with his fingers. "At first light, bring me the Mistress of the Household."
The Chamberlain, Marion Vinicius, lifted a decanter from the tray and offered it forward. Levan took it without pause, slipped the glass stopper free, and poured the dark wine into the waiting glass on his desk, almost filling it full.
"Shall I know the matter, sire. So she may come prepare?" Marion asked, his tone respectful but steady, as he was accustomed to such late-night commands.
Levan swirled the wine once, the crimson surface catching the lamplight, then set the decanter aside with deliberate care. "Some of the palace maids have grown careless." He moved to his desk. "If negligence touches my wife's chambers, then it concerns me directly. And I want to know why."
Marion was thoughtful as he observe the crown prince. As far as he concerned, him and the princess never shared a close bond despite having known each other for approximately eight years. Distance had been their way, an unspoken truth that the entire palace had learned to accept. After all, the prince is still busy with The Blithe's matter.
However, tonight, for the first time, Marion wondered if that truth was shifting. Alas, it was not his matter to indulge, perhaps something serious did happened within the palace that it managed to caught this aloof prince's attention. "Understood. I'll have her ready to answer you at dawn."
Levan nodded and did not say anything further, he lifted the glass to his lips and drank slowly. The wine was strong and meant to be savoured in careful sips, yet he emptied it in one steady swallow. The burn slid down his throat like an old companion, and he set the glass aside with the same calm precision as though he had merely taken water.
Unknowingly, his gaze drifted across the polished surface of his table, sharp as ever, scrutinizing the parchments and letters he had reviewed in the morning, until it landed on the now-empty space where the sweet roll had been. He stilled for a moment, as if the sight of it being gone itched something in his mind.
"Marion," he said, "where are they?"
The Chamberlain bowed slightly. "The rolls, sire? I had the maids clear them. By afternoon they were swarmed with ants, quite unsalvageable."
Levan's jaw flexed, his eyes narrowing faintly as he rounded the table and sat on his seat, contemplating. He did not even know why he was thinking of that right now, it was not like he planned to eat it anyway. At last he exhaled, his voice carried no warmth.
"I see."
~×~
The first light of dawn crept into the chamber. Levan had granted himself no more than an hour's rest, just enough to sharpen his focus for the day ahead. It had long become routine as his body required little sleep to function. Yet, in the back of his mind, he sometimes wondered what it might be like to claim a full night's rest, one unbroken by vigilance and unshadowed by the need to remain alert. But such indulgence was a luxury reserved for men who had earned it.
He stood by the window, already dressed in black and gold. The sharp cut of his tunic remained immaculate despite the sleepless night. His golden eyes caught the first light of morning, hard and unyielding as he waited for his guest. In his work, every matter had its place, weighed and measured by severity. This one was hardly alarming, yet it demanded attention, if only to prevent it from festering into something greater.
When a knock broke the stillness as the Chamberlain opened the door, his eyes flicked to the entrance. The Mistress of the Household stepped inside, bowing deeply. Though her hair was silvered with age, her bearing was proud and her eyes alert. She had long commanded the palace staff with iron discretion.
"You summoned me, Your Highness."
"I did." Levan's voice carried the chill of steel. He did not move from where he stood, his silhouette stark against the light. There was no need for flattery, he went straight to the point. "Two names: Liana. Theana."
The Mistress stilled, her expression betraying a flicker of surprise before she composed herself. "Both are chambermaids, sire. Attendants to the princess."
"Were," Levan corrected, his gaze cutting into her. "Until I know where their loyalties lie." He moved then, crossing the chamber with slow, measured strides, each step echoing on the marble. He stopped by the desk, his hand resting on the edge, fingers tapping once before stilling. "Tell me what you know of their conduct."
The Mistress lowered her head slightly. "Liana has been under Melyn's direction since her appointment, a dutiful maid in her service. Theana likewise, though she has a tendency toward mischief if left unchecked, but I've made sure she was well-disciplined before she was assigned to Her Highness. Both are still young."
"Young is no excuse. Last night, my wife was left unattended in the library until I found her myself." Levan said calmly.
"Unattended?" The Mistress questioned with a frown.
Levan nodded. "I was under the impression I had made myself perfectly clear that her maids are to remain by her side at all times no matter the circumstances, especially through the night," he paused as he remembered what Ilaria had said, sighing in defeat then. "...But no matter, I will not dwell on it since it was the princess herself who dismissed her."
Levan's tone dropped lower as he shifted to lean back against his desk, arms crossing nonchalantly, his boots tapping languidly on the polished floor. "However, there is another matter I will not overlook." He went on, determined to resolve this quickly.
"The night of the family dinner, when the princess returned to her chambers, Liana and Theana were reportedly absent. Her balcony doors stood open, and the lanterns had been allowed to go out. Do you consider that acceptable vigilance?"
He let the silence stretch, his gaze unyielding. The Mistress know the risk of leaving the balcony open and the lantern dim in Noctharis. She answered, "I do not."
"And yet," he said slowly, his voice like a blade sliding from its sheath, "I am told only Liana was seen again. Where was Theana?"
The Mistress stiffened ever so slightly. It was the smallest betrayal, but he caught it.
He did not press immediately. Instead, Levan leaned further into the desk, arms still crossed, his silence heavy and deliberate. He had known this answer long before the words left his lips. Melyn's little stunt last night had been enough for him to make his deductions. Theana's nerves would never withstand such scrutiny. After her unbridled confession, she must have certainly fled.
And yet no report had reached him, which meant the Mistress was hiding it. "Well?"
The Mistress bowed her head, hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her composure held but only barely. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I have failed in my duty." Her voice wavered, low with shame. "It is true that Theana did not return last night. We searched the quarters, the kitchens, the halls, but there has been no sign of her since."
As expected. He let the weight of her admission hang in the air, long enough for her unease to sharpen.
When he finally spoke, his voice was steady and deliberate. "So one maid flees in the night, and the other leaves my wife unattended. Curious." He spat, pushing himself from the desk with quiet precision and began to pace slowly, each step measured.
"Tell me, then, on whose orders was the balcony left open? And why were the lanterns allowed to burn out? Was it neglect, or something else entirely?"
The Mistress lowered her head further. "I cannot answer, sire. I only know it was not by my command. But perhaps..." she thought of an excuse. "There had just been carelessness from the young maids."
Levan's gaze lingered on her bowed figure, unreadable, though the silence stretched heavy enough to press the air thin. Prolonging the conversation with lies will only slow him down, which he disliked. Therefore, with a click of his tongue, he broke it.
"Bring Liana here."
The Mistress' head snapped up, her eyes widening in horror. He had already calculated this much. Liana was her youngest daughter and he knew too well the bond between the two, so if she could not give him the answer he wanted, then might as well bring the culprit in.
"Now."