The journey back from the Iron Peaks was a victory lap, but it felt more like a funeral procession to me. Every mile we traveled away from the mountains and toward the gilded cage of Oakhaven, the heavier the air became.
"You're over-analyzing again," Bastian said, pulling his horse alongside mine. We were descending into the lush green valleys of the midlands. "We have the support of the North, the King's favor, and the 'Anointed' brand. Even my brother's own men are whispering that the Crown Prince is a 'Sunk Cost.' What is there to worry about?"
"In my world, Bastian, the most dangerous time for a company isn't when it's failing—it's right after a successful IPO," I said, my eyes scanning the treeline. "Success makes you a target for 'Hostile Acquisitions.' The Empress hasn't sent a single letter, a single threat, or a single assassin since we left. That's not 'Peace,' Bastian. That's 'Market Consolidation.' She's gathering all her resources for one final strike."
