Klaus surfaced from sleep slowly.
The first thing he felt was someone leaning over him.
He opened his eyes and saw two tense, worried faces hanging above him.
"My lord!" Lilith exclaimed, reaching for him—only for Egor to smack her hands away.
"Don't touch him. He might not be fully conscious yet."
Klaus blinked.
The overwhelming pain was gone. What remained was a deep, bone-heavy exhaustion.
Familiar.
Manageable.
He could deal with this.
He tried to sit up.
Two pairs of hands immediately pushed him back.
"Don't move," Egor said quickly. "I'll get Brod."
Before Klaus could even open his mouth, Egor was already gone.
Klaus tried again, brushing Lilith aside. This time she didn't argue—just adjusted the pillow behind him so he could sit without straining his shoulder.
She couldn't meet his eyes.
He had bled for them.
And she had run.
At the time, it had been instinct. But the image of him—broken, covered in blood, an arrow driven straight through him—wouldn't leave her.
Shame burned in her chest.
"How are you feeling, Your Majesty?" Brod asked as he entered, holding a packet of powder.
"I told you not to call me that," Klaus snapped.
"Then you're doing better," the healer said calmly, handing him the powder and a cup of water. "Pain relief."
"I don't need it." Klaus waved him off. "I'm fine."
He remembered the whip tearing into his flesh. The arrow shattering bone. The solution burning through ruined muscle.
Compared to that—
This was nothing.
Brod knew perfectly well he wasn't fine, but didn't argue. He checked the reset nose, replaced the bandage on Klaus's arm, then stepped back.
"Everything looks good," he said. "I didn't use the bone solution on the cuts on your face and torso. It would've been too much for your body. Use the ointment morning and evening if you don't want scars. And don't use that arm for a few days."
The second Brod stepped away, Klaus swung his legs off the bed.
Only then did he realize—
He was completely naked under the sheet.
"Where the hell are my clothes?" he demanded.
"They'll be returned when I decide you're ready to leave the infirmary," Brod's voice came from somewhere deeper in the room.
"This is ridiculous. I'm not lying here naked."
"You've got a sheet," the healer replied dryly, already disappearing into his office.
Klaus snorted.
"Right. Like that's supposed to stop me."
He stood, wrapped the sheet around himself, and tied it over his uninjured shoulder. The cold stone floor bit into his bare feet.
"You were told not to use your arm," Egor said sharply as he came back.
"Then let's go," Klaus said. "I'm starving. You're feeding me."
"In that condition?"
"What, you offering me your pants?" Klaus raised an eyebrow. "From experience, they won't fit."
Egor rolled his eyes.
Together with Lilith, they headed for the exit. Somewhere behind them, Brod sighed.
"At least take the ointment!"
Egor rushed back, grabbed the jar, muttered a quick apology, and hurried after Klaus—who had already stopped in the doorway.
"Running off already?" August stood outside, holding a tray.
"Perfect timing," Klaus said. "I'm starving."
"Where exactly do you think you're going?" August's gaze swept over him. "And what the hell are you wearing?"
"Your healer stole my clothes."
"Let's not traumatize the entire city," August said. He handed the tray to Lilith, unclasped his cloak, and threw it over Klaus's shoulders. "Eat first. I'll get you something decent."
"I'm not some delicate maiden," Klaus muttered. "This covers everything that matters."
"It makes me feel better," August replied calmly, pushing him forward.
Back in the small room Klaus shared with Lilith, he dropped down and started eating immediately.
"So Abel's still alive?" he asked between bites.
"Unfortunately," August said. "Complaining about how unfair his situation is."
"You talked to him?"
"I did. He told me who gave the orders. Did you know our dear brother has a rather interesting ability?"
"He has an ability?" Klaus frowned.
August summarized the conversation—leaving out a few details—while Klaus worked through the food.
"We can't wait any longer," Klaus said at last, pushing the empty plate aside. "When will the border nobles respond?"
"They claim negotiations are ongoing," August replied. "Sorting things out among themselves."
"So we can count on them?"
"Did you give them a choice?" August smirked. "But let's drop strategy for a second. I can't take you seriously dressed like that."
Klaus glanced down at the sheet wrapped around him and grimaced.
"What's wrong with it?"
"That look suggests… completely different intentions," August said mildly, then flicked a pointed glance at Egor.
Egor cleared his throat and sat down beside Klaus.
Lilith soon returned with clothes, more food, and wine. She climbed onto the bed with a book, completely uninterested in the discussion.
The three men sat across from each other on the floor.
"I'm done waiting," Klaus said. "The situation with the border nobles is almost settled. Next—the Council of Six."
"What brought this on?" August asked.
"I'll admit it," Klaus said evenly. "I wasn't sure I was ready to go against Father openly. But he made his move first. What am I supposed to do now—sit still?"
He paused, then added quietly:
"After what happened, I'm not letting it go unanswered."
"I wouldn't call Abel's stunt an open move," August said. "But you're right. The king made a move. He'll start tightening his grip on the nobles—if he hasn't already. Going against him won't be easy."
"Isorobia respects strength," Klaus said. "So we show it."
"How?"
"When I spoke to the townspeople, a lot of them wanted expansion. To come out of hiding. Take land. Make themselves known. What better way to prove our strength?"
August frowned.
"You're not worried that this will unite the nobles against you? That you're handing the king exactly what he needs?"
"That's exactly what I want."
August stared at him.
"You've lost your mind. I spent years keeping the rebels hidden, and you want to drag them into the open? What exactly do you think a bunch of former slaves, mercenaries, and peasants can do against the royal army?"
"We're not going head-to-head with the army," Klaus said. "We approach certain nobles. Offer cooperation. And make our visit… memorable. Those who refuse lose their lands. We take them by force."
"You want to scare them."
"I want them to understand their king can't protect everyone. I want them to see I have power too. I want them to see what this new force looks like. You've got nobles who abandoned their families—but the rest? Slaves. Peasants. What do you think the highborn will feel when that kind of 'trash' takes their estates?"
"You're trying to scare the nobles and pull the rest to your side," August said slowly.
"Yes. After the first demonstration, we spread the message."
"And what does that make you?" August shot back. "A liberator—or just another tyrant? Why replace one bastard with another?"
"We don't kill those who surrender."
"That's optimistic," August muttered. Then he gave a faint grin. "Still… I like that you're finally ready to act."
"You want war?" Egor asked quietly.
The room went still.
"I want this land secured as quickly as possible," Klaus said.
"War doesn't guarantee that," Egor replied. "It doesn't guarantee you survive."
August cut in, voice sharp.
"That right there proves you still don't understand this world. Power isn't negotiated. It's broken and taken. And yes—it bleeds."
"August, enough," Klaus said.
But Egor was already standing.
"He's right. I don't understand this world. I'll go find something useful to do somewhere else."
He walked out before Klaus could stop him.
The door slammed shut.
Silence lingered.
Klaus exhaled slowly, then stretched, careful with his shoulder.
"I need a bath," he said. "I'm using your hidden spring."
"Klaus," August replied quietly, "everything here is yours. You don't need to ask."