Egor still hadn't come back.
Hours had passed.
Klaus lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, while Lilith sat nearby, completely absorbed in her book.
"You can read?" he asked abruptly.
"Yes," she said. "They taught me. Reading. Writing. Enough to be useful."
A pause.
"They gave us lists. Like the other children. So we wouldn't get in the way."
So we would stay quiet.
Klaus exhaled through his nose.
"And what exactly are you studying so intently?"
He didn't care.
Not really.
He just needed something—
anything—
to stop thinking about where Egor had gone.
"Lissa gave it to me," Lilith said, evasive.
Of course she did.
Klaus didn't ask further.
He could imagine well enough what kind of "education" a former pleasure-house slave passed on.
"Is he even coming back?" Klaus snapped suddenly, pushing himself up from the bed.
"Who?" Lilith blinked.
Klaus's expression darkened.
"Egor," he said flatly. "Who else lives in this room?"
"Oh," she said. "He asked to be moved today."
Klaus went still.
"…What?"
"He said it was too cramped for three people."
A pause.
Then—
"Where?" Klaus asked sharply.
"I don't know."
Of course she didn't.
For her, that wasn't important.
If anything—
this was better.
Her master had always paid more attention to the first slave.
Now—
that space was empty.
"If you need anything," she added quickly, leaning forward slightly, "you can tell me. I can do everything he can."
A beat.
"Just as well."
Klaus didn't even look at her.
"I don't need anything," he said, already moving toward the door. "I need to find him."
He stopped.
Turned.
"Which room?"
"I told you—I don't know," she said. "He said he'd take me to Lissa every day. That's all that matters."
Of course.
That was enough for her.
Klaus left.
—
He searched.
Corridors.
Rooms.
Training halls.
Storage areas.
Everywhere.
Nothing.
Eventually, someone told him which room Egor had taken.
He went there.
Empty.
Of course.
The rest of the day—
wasted.
Walking.
Searching.
Thinking.
Failing.
By the time he returned—
he was tired.
Irritated.
With Egor.
With himself.
With everything.
He spread out his mattress.
Lay down.
And fell asleep without finding him.
Without speaking to him.
—
"So," Klaus said the next morning, his tone sharp, "you want to start with the smallest, weakest nobles?"
They sat alone in August's quarters.
The discussion helped.
Barely.
At least it kept Egor from intruding into every thought.
"Small," August said, "but useful. Most of them sit along the borders. Easier to pressure. Easier to break."
"They're weak," Klaus said flatly. "No armies. No power. A handful of guards and bought slaves."
A pause.
"What exactly do we gain from scraps?"
August exhaled slowly.
"Klaus… you're thinking like an idiot today."
A glance.
"You didn't sleep."
"I slept badly," Klaus snapped. "That's not the point."
A beat.
"You want to recruit remote border nobles in order to—"
"They live on the border," August cut in.
Each word deliberate.
Pressed.
"So what?" Klaus shot back. "Don't talk to me like I'm stupid."
"Klaus," August said sharply, "use your head."
A pause.
"You said it yourself. Border territories. Constant clashes with neighboring states."
Another.
"And yet—these nobles don't maintain armies."
Silence.
Then—
it shifted.
The realization came slower than it should have.
Too slow.
The borders were protected.
Not by them.
By the crown.
By the Council of Six.
The real power.
Which meant—
they should be exposed.
Vulnerable.
Always.
And yet—
they weren't.
"They have agreements," Klaus said.
The thought locking into place.
"With neighboring states."
August smiled.
"There it is."
A pause.
"So what happens," he continued, "when this country tears itself apart?"
"They invade," Klaus said immediately. "They take what's left."
"And how do we stop that?"
Silence.
Then—
"We make our own agreements."
"Good."
A nod.
"They already have quiet ties. Small ones. Hidden."
A pause.
"They get you access."
Another.
"Or at least buy you time before the borders collapse."
Klaus leaned back.
Irritated.
"…I should have seen that."
He didn't just miss it.
He failed.
"Little brother," August said lightly, "that's why you have me."
Yes.
August was better at this.
Strategy.
Politics.
Long-term thinking.
But—
If Egor had been here—
Klaus wouldn't have missed it.
Wouldn't have looked like this.
He crushed the thought.
Hard.
"Fine," Klaus said. "Where do we start?"
—
They mapped it out.
Six houses.
One month.
Move fast.
Divide the visits.
But there was a problem.
"No leverage," Klaus said.
"None," August agreed. "Too small. Too remote. No dirt to exploit."
A pause.
"So you improvise."
Klaus didn't like that.
But he nodded.
"What about travel?"
"Five transfer stones," August said. "Each tied to a specific location."
A pause.
"Scouts have already mapped all six."
Convenient.
Too convenient.
"Like a damn carriage service," Klaus muttered.
Egor would have liked that.
Lazy enough to complain about walking.
August grinned.
"They work both ways."
"Capacity?"
"Five per stone."
A pause.
"You're bringing your retinue?"
"That's not the issue," Klaus said. "I want Lilith to see the world. While it's still relatively safe."
August studied him.
Then nodded.
"Five per stone. We travel together. A few guards."
A pause.
"A crown prince doesn't walk into noble territory alone."
"Then we need at least eight."
"You mean me?" August smirked.
"I'm supposed to be dead. Let's keep it that way."
A beat.
"I'll pass as one of your guards."
Another.
"We take one more capable fighter."
A glance.
"And your… strays—"
a faint, deliberate smirk—
"we dress them as soldiers."
"I'll have armor made."
"Good."
Klaus leaned forward.
"What about the Council of Six?"
A pause.
"If we want real power—we need at least half of them."
"I've already looked into it," August said.
"They control the largest forces. Most of it centered in the capital."
"Then how do we break them?"
August counted them off.
"One by one."
"Stig Mor. Slesh Digger. Krop Truk. Sivel Murphy. Lucius Krik."
A pause.
"And my father."
"I know who they are."
"I'm reminding you."
A beat.
"My father is useless to us."
"Why?"
"He already has everything," August said. "Power. Influence. Control."
A pause.
"And he's careful."
Another.
"The only way to bring him over—"
a look—
"is to promise him the throne."
Silence.
"And keep the system exactly as it is."
"That's not happening," Klaus said flatly.
A pause.
"But I still don't understand him."
Another.
"What he wants. Why he needs me."
A beat.
"That matters."
"It does," August said. "So for now—you go back. Pretend you're on his side."
Klaus grimaced.
"I hate this."
"Then don't lose."
A pause.
"Next—Stig Mor."
"The owl."
"Education."
"Control," August corrected. "He decides who learns—and what they're allowed to learn."
A pause.
"He's greedy."
Another.
"And restricted."
"The king limits him."
"Exactly."
A faint smile.
"Offer him expansion."
"More schools. More students. Foreign knowledge."
A pause.
"Let him profit."
"And he's ours."
"Yes."
A beat.
"He's already breaking rules."
"Selling teachers to anyone who can pay."
A glance.
"Your girl carries his mark."
Klaus frowned.
"How would you know that?"
"Relax," August said dryly. "I didn't touch her."
A pause.
"The girls talk."
"Old marks are usually removed."
A shrug.
"In her case—no one bothered."
"…That explains it."
Her literacy.
It hadn't made sense before.
Now it did.
"Next—Slesh Digger."
"Military."
"The largest force," August said. "Slave soldiers. Raised. Trained. Conditioned."
A pause.
"He doesn't care about money."
Another.
"Or influence."
"He cares about war."
"Yes."
Silence.
"That makes him dangerous."
"He lives for it," August said. "Conflict. Expansion. Blood."
A pause.
"If you don't offer him war—he won't move."
Klaus thought.
Slow.
Careful.
"I might have something."
A glance.
"But it needs work."
August smiled.
"Good."
"Next—Krop Truk."
"Food supply."
"And control."
A pause.
"He limits growth."
"How?"
"No surplus. No expansion. No independence."
Another.
"Everything measured. Reported. Restricted."
Klaus frowned.
"That's excessive."
"It's intentional."
A pause.
"A well-fed commoner is a risk."
"Not if he's starving," Klaus said.
"Exactly."
A beat.
"Feed them just enough."
Another.
"And they stay obedient."
Klaus shook his head.
"That kind of pressure breeds revolt."
"Not here," August said. "Here—it breeds fear."
A pause.
"They won't move without guarantees."
"And the king never gives them any."
Silence.
"What about Sivel Murphy?"
August snorted.
"Greedy. Careful. Loyal."
A pause.
"He controls money."
Another.
"And skims more than his share."
"But the king allows it."
"Because he's loyal."
A beat.
"I have nothing on him."
"Then we leave him."
"For last."
"Exactly."
"And Krik?"
"Coward," August said.
A pause.
"Wants power. Fears risk."
Another.
"Cruel to slaves who can't fight back."
A beat.
"To them—he's a god."
"So we offer him power."
"And safety."
"A chance to join when it's already decided."
"And if it isn't?"
"He won't come."
Silence.
Klaus leaned back.
A long breath.
"We still have a month."
A pause.
"I'll figure something out."
August smiled.
"I know you will."