By the time she reached the gates of the capital, the sun was creeping over the horizon, casting long shadows across the waking city. Her mind refused to rest. Why had that prison gone up in flames? Who was that boy, or rather, the criminal masquerading as a guard? It made more sense that he had been a prisoner, not a deserter. But the questions gnawed at her: how had he escaped, and why would a respected noble house help him?
She found herself at the HQ, a fortress of stone and ornamentation, noble yet weathered. The grand staircase rose before her. To the right, the private wing: each hero's quarters, the kitchen, and the dining hall. To the left, the armory, supply rooms, and library. Her destination lay at the heart of it all—the administrative center.
Her fellow heroes saluted as she climbed the stairs. The building had four floors, and when she reached her office on the third, she paused to take it in. Her desk faced the oriel windows, sunlight spilling across stacks of paperwork. Shelves lined the walls: manuals, records, artifacts, and memorials. A familiar order settled over the chaos.
She sat down, eyes scanning the pile before her:
"Training program for the recruits"
"Inventory and condition reports for weapons"
"This year's budget allocations"
"Patrol reports and hero performance evaluations"
And one document stood out: a royal invitation, personally sent by the crown prince, summoning her to the palace without delay. She knew she could not refuse. But the paperwork would only pile higher in her absence.
She let out a long sigh. "Tomorrow, then. Tomorrow I'll bury myself in this mess." Rising, she left the office, locked the door, and made her way to the stables. Mounting her horse, she set off toward the palace.
Normally, a normal invitation would require a gown, a proper display of courtly respect. But this was no ball, no banquet, no normal invitation. The weight behind this summons was far heavier.
As she rode, heads turned. Some glared, some gawked, some bowed their heads in fear, admiration and respect, even from those who despised her.
Finally, the palace gates rose before her. The guards allowed her to cross the long bridge at a gallop. The palace itself rose atop a massive rock at the city's western edge, it was connected to mainland via a bridge 120 meters long. She handed her horse to the stable hands and paused at the base of the steps, taking in the sight. Towers, walls, and spires caught the morning light, a dazzling reminder of wealth, power, and the lives within, a fortress and symbol of the kingdom's power.
The Palace exhibits exquisite stained glass windows, shining marble floors, and the finest corbels and column work.
Making her way through the palace's stern halls, as she came inside, Leisel sensed sun filtering through high-stained glass windows, casting colorful hues upon the marble floor. The walls were adorned with battle and courtly function tapestries, and the burnished floors reflected her sturdy walk. Palace staff hurried past, carrying trays and documents, and nobles, some still waking, others already going about their morning regimens, paused to regard her. Their faces changed from inquiring to wonder, and even faint murmurs followed her way, as though the air itself recognized her power.
Albert, the equerry of the prince, arrived to greet her hello. Tall and well-muscled with broad shoulders and a keen, angular face, dark hair was tied back in a ponytail and brown eyes met hers with a professional yet civil air. He made a fine bow, his deep and well-trained voice saying,
"My lady Leisel, it is an honor to see you have arrived safe. Come, I must take you to the private office of the prince."
Thank you, Albert. I am right behind you," she replied.
Albert led the way through the corridors. Upon arrival, he knocked loudly on the door. A few seconds later, a gentle voice responded,
"You may enter."
Albert opened the door and motioned for Leisel to enter. She nodded in appreciation before he closed the door behind her and left her with the prince.
The prince's office was a site of quiet grandeur that radiated gold from every surface in the room, almost as if his own existence in the room blessed it in that way. The polished floor shimmered in the sunlight coming in through long arched windows. Rich tapestries hung on the walls. A select few ornate shelves were lined with neatly recognizable scrolls and books. Evidently, every corner and every detail exuded grace and order, yet it was alive, it was cozy, it was welcoming, just like him.
There he stood, Prince Adam. He looked as gorgeous as always, with silver hair glistening and his golden eyes while blazing, warmed anyone's soul who cared to look into them. His face was smooth and perfect, and wore a tender, compassionate expression. That was why he gained everyone's trust so easily; he was a beautiful man, in body and spirit, in everyone's eyes. He looked regal, dressed in white with golden accents, white pants under his tunic, and golden slippers to match.
Positioned behind his desk with his elbows resting on the surface, hands pressed together and chin resting on top, Adam squinted and gave Leisel a warm smile.
"You look tired, dear," he said softly, his golden eyes surveying her face with gentle concern.
She met his gaze with determination. "I am fine, Your Highness. You shouldn't concern yourself with my well-being. You have far more pressing matters."
He gave her a kind but slightly teasing smile. "My dear, you are more important than any paperwork."
She forced a smile at his words.
Adam noticed, though he mistook it for her weariness. He chose not to waste more of her time and shifted the subject, his voice still soft but now serious, the smile gone. "I heard about the prison fire from a messenger sent by Mystes, but I want to hear it from you. How bad is it?"
Leisel straightened herself. "Yes, Your Highness. The prison block is gone. Three-quarters of the garrison are dead or injured. The prisoners are presumed dead as well."
Adam's smile faded into concern. "That is no typical accident. Do you think it was intentional?"
"I do," Leisel replied without hesitation. "The fire began in the barracks. Whoever set it wanted the men disabled before they could respond."
Adam leaned forward slightly, tone heavy with worry. "Who would do such a thing? And why?"
Leisel answered firmly. "I believe this was a prison break. If you are fully informed, then you should know there was a boy sent to get help, but he never returned, at least when I last checked. How recent is the report you received?"
Adam replied, "Quite recent."
Leisel's eyes narrowed, though she quickly masked it. Recent? How recent? she thought. And if he summoned me here to discuss this, why was he given the report before me? The headquarters is only half an hour away from the palace…
Adam noticed her unease and softened his expression. "I know what you're thinking. You're wondering why I was informed before you, right?"
Her eyes widened slightly. "I wouldn't dare question such a thing."
He smiled reassuringly. "It's all right. Mystes sent it to me because it concerned the security of the capital directly. She deemed it urgent for the royal family to be informed at once, before the full report was finalized for you."
"Oh, I see," Leisel said, forcing composure. After a short pause, she continued. "What does it say? Any progress?"
"I am informed that there were five new recruits: two confirmed alive, one confirmed dead, and two unknown, since all the bodies are badly burnt and nearly impossible to identify."
She let out a sigh. "So, we have no idea who he might be."
"Seems so," he confirmed.
She narrowed her eyes, she had to ask him something. "My prince, I must ask a favor."
He raised an eyebrow. "What might that be?"
"I think Lord Petasius, heir of House Petasius, might be a part of this prison break," she said with determination, though a trace of nervousness slipped into her voice.
He rose from his seat and slowly walked up to her with soft, measured steps, stopping right in front of her. Looking into her eyes, he asked, "Lord Petasius is the heir of a very influential figure in this kingdom. Do you have any proof to support your claim, or are these merely your suspicions?"
Only he and the king have the authority to grant me such immediate permission to investigate him she thought. I have to convince him, I must support my allegation strongly.
"I base my suspicions on two things. First, to escape the prison, this boy needed information, about the guards' schedule, the timing to burn the prison and trap most of them inside, and how to acquire the necessary equipment. He may have even received help from within, perhaps from corrupt guards or—"
Adam cut in, looking at her with suspicion. "What if he escaped with his own abilities?"
"Yes, that might be a possibility too. That's why my men questioned the survivors, but most of them knew nothing about the boy, and—" She reached for the report on Adam's desk and scanned it. "Mystes even used her techniques to make them talk, according to this private report. That means the survivors didn't help him."
"What if the guard who helped him ran away with him?" Adam asked.
"Yes, that would been possible. But the boy went to seek help alone. I also tracked his trail, there were only the footprints of a single person in the forest. That brings me to my second reason: at the end of his trail, on a hill near the capital, I found the tracks of a horse and another person. I believe those belonged to his accomplice."
"Or maybe a civilian who happened to be passing by?" Adam suggested.
"When we compare the probability of both explanations, I believe the first is far more logical. And to conclude my second reason, men of the city watch saw Lord Petasius entering the capital while sharing his horse with someone."
After a long pause, Adam, with a thoughtful expression, asked her a question in a calm, deliberate tone "So, you are telling me that Petasius helped a prisoner escape from the prison? Why? And who did he help escape?"
"That is the difficult question, my prince. We found bodies in every cell of the prison, which means all the prisoners are assumed dead. The person who escaped is believed to be a deserter, a traitor... at least, that's what they want us to think. But my theory is different, and I have explained why."
She took a deep breath and continued. "I believe the person who escaped was a prisoner aided by Lord Petasius. The lord bribed a guard to help this prisoner escape, the guard gave him clothes, helped him start the fire, and perhaps even planned to place another body in the prisoner's cell to make his death believable. Then he told him the meeting point with Lord Petasius. But when the prisoner no longer needed this guard, he killed him along with the others. Perhaps the body found in the prisoner's cell belonged to that corrupt guard."
The prince looked at her, speaking softly but firmly. "Leisel, I understand your point, and even though it sounds far-fetched, there are logical elements in your reasoning. But I cannot grant you permission to investigate Lord Petasius based on mere theories." Then his expression softened. "I am sorry, my dear, but I must decline such favor."
"But, my prince, the Petasius family might have helped a prisoner escape and might be responsible for burning down a prison full of prisoners and guards. Damaging a building that belongs to the Crown, killing guards serving the Crown and countless prisoners. Will we let these crimes slide?! And who knows what else they are planning!?" she exclaimed, before realizing she had broken her formal stance and overstepped.
Adam looked at her with narrowed eyes. His voice was still kind, but his tone had hardened.
"Leisel, I understand your concerns. But starting such an investigation could end disastrously. What if there is no evidence against Petasius? You know they would have every right to be furious with me, and thus with the Royal Family, for accusing them baselessly. That could spark a crisis between houses, causing scandal and far worse consequences."
She knew. Of course, she did. She had known from the moment she began to suspect them. But letting them get away with this, the prisoner's identity, the unanswered whos and whys and hows gnawed at her mind. She gritted her teeth. She opened her mouth to protest, but the echo of his soft yet firm rejection silenced her. She bowed her head in resignation.
"As you wish, my prince," she said, her tone softened with defeat.
He gently cupped her chin and raised it. "It's all right, I know you mean well," he assured her kindly. He caressed her cheek. "I know you already have much on your plate, but will you spare some time to spend the rest of the day with me?"
"I... I should go, my prince. I have so much to do, and I haven't even slept yet."
He smiled gently. "I understand. I am sure your mind and body are exhausted from your duties. But let me be selfish for today. Stay, for me."
She couldn't reject a direct request from him. She was too tired to argue, and knowing her thoughts wouldn't let her sleep or work anyway, she gave in.
"As you wish, my prince."