The moment the portal dropped them back into the cave, August caught Klaus by the arm and dragged him away, leaving Lilith—still shaken from the forest—in the hands of Goral and Egor.
Klaus tried to pull free.
Tried to turn back toward the dining hall—
toward Egor—
but August didn't let go.
After a few failed attempts, Klaus gave up with a quiet curse.
So much for talking.
"You're a natural enslaver," August said later, swirling wine in his glass, far too pleased with himself. "I almost laughed when Twig looked ready to piss himself."
"I don't see anything amusing about that," Klaus said coldly. "Put yourself in his place. It wasn't just his head on the line."
"Maybe," August shrugged. "Still—you handled it perfectly."
A grin.
"You were so convincing I almost believed you knew everything about his little network and just didn't bother telling me."
"I didn't have a choice," Klaus said. "We were lucky he broke as fast as he did."
A pause.
"He'll need weeks to reconnect with the others."
Another.
"That gives me time."
"And what are you going to do with it?" August smirked. "Drink? Plot? Pretend to be merciful?"
"I'm going to visit my uncle," Klaus said. "I've delayed long enough. If he starts looking for me, he might stumble onto this place."
August waved it off.
"There's a barrier. Tracking magic won't get through."
A faint smile.
"One of our better minds."
Klaus raised a brow.
"You have many of those?"
"Twelve who actually know what they're doing," August said. "And about twenty more who think they do."
A pause.
"I gave them their own section. Deep enough that if something goes wrong—it doesn't take the rest of us with it."
Another.
"And things do go wrong."
"When were you planning to show me?" Klaus asked.
"I wasn't," August said lightly. "I was going to show you results."
A grin.
"I like watching you realize you're not the smartest man in the room."
"I want to see everything," Klaus said. "Not just finished toys."
A pause.
"I want to see how they fail."
August studied him.
"You're thinking of trading the throne for a scholar's life?"
"I'm not king yet," Klaus said. "And I want to understand what I once thought impossible."
"Later," August said. "You're trying to swallow too much at once."
A beat.
"For now—you focus."
"On your father."
"Exactly."
A pause.
"But first—you stay here."
Klaus frowned.
"Why?"
"Because your speech worked," August said, amusement threading his voice. "Some of them actually believed you."
A smirk.
"They came with ideas."
Klaus closed his eyes briefly.
"…What kind of ideas?"
"All kinds. Expansion. Resources. Structure."
A shrug.
"I didn't bother sorting through them."
Another.
"That's your job."
"Do it yourself," Klaus muttered.
August laughed.
"No. You wanted to stand with the people."
A pause.
"So stand."
Klaus said nothing.
For a brief, bitter moment—
he almost wished someone would attack.
At least then there would be a reason not to sit through this.
—
From early morning, Klaus sat in what passed for an office.
A tent.
A table.
A chair.
And too many people outside.
No one had asked him if he wanted this.
Of course.
August lasted less than an hour.
Despite promising otherwise.
Only Lilith stayed—
curled on cushions in the corner, reading, smiling faintly as if none of this touched her.
Some proposals were useful.
To those, Klaus said:
"Good. Write it down. In detail."
Not everyone could write.
It didn't matter.
Within hours, those who could had gathered the others and built something resembling a clerical unit—recording every idea worth preserving.
Most suggestions—
weren't.
To those, Klaus said:
"I'll consider it."
Or:
"We return to this later."
The real problem—
wasn't suggestions.
It was demands.
"We should gather them all and slaughter them!" one man shouted—a former slave, the brand still burned into his neck.
Others crowded behind him.
Louder.
"Kill them! All of them!"
"String them up!"
"Burn their houses!"
Klaus exhaled slowly.
"You're asking for something that cannot be done."
"We knew it!" the man shouted. "The prince won't touch the highborn! You'll stand with them while we're butchered like livestock!"
"That's not what I—listen—"
"How exactly do you expect me to execute every highborn?" Klaus cut in, voice sharpening, slicing through the noise. "Do you understand what that would unleash?"
"Freedom!" someone shouted back.
The crowd surged.
Voices clashed.
Anger fed anger.
Until—
soldiers stepped in.
August's soldiers.
Despite Klaus's orders.
They forced the crowd back.
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Watching.
Measuring.
If he refuses—
he's weak.
If he agrees—
he's a monster.
Klaus saw it in their faces.
Felt it.
And had no answer.
Without the highborn—
he had no army.
No structure.
No chance.
But if he gave them blood—
he became his father.
—
By evening, August returned.
Rested.
Satisfied.
Annoyingly so.
He dismissed the remaining crowd and stepped inside just as Lilith slipped out, murmuring something about work.
Klaus barely noticed.
"Little brother," August said lightly, "you look miserable."
Klaus glared.
That only made August smile wider.
Good.
Let him struggle.
Let him feel it.
Let him understand—
who he needed.
Not that stray from another world.
Him.
And if this continued—
the boy would leave on his own.
Perfect.
"I have an idea," August said. "Something… enjoyable."
"I'm not interested," Klaus muttered. "Go find someone else."
August placed a hand over his chest.
"How cruel. I offer you relief, and this is how you respond?"
"What do you want?"
"I had food brought to the baths," August said. "Private ones."
A pause.
"How does that sound?"
Klaus exhaled.
"If I can eat and wash at the same time—I don't care what you call it."
—
The "private bath" was a small cavern with a natural pool.
Tables set along the edge.
Simple.
Efficient.
After washing away the dust of the day, Klaus had to admit—it worked.
He sank into the water.
Pulled a table closer.
Ate.
Quietly.
Practically.
He could almost see what August had imagined instead—
wine.
fruit.
half-naked bodies pressed close—
hands that didn't stop.
Klaus ignored it.
He washed.
Finished eating.
Got out.
Leaving August behind—
clearly dissatisfied—
to indulge himself alone.
Klaus still had work.
Notes to review.
And—
finally—
he needed to find Egor.
And this time—
he would make him listen.
But once again—
that wasn't going to happen.