Klaus lasted one more day.
That was it.
After that—
he snapped.
He refused to sit in that suffocating tent any longer, listening to an endless stream of increasingly absurd proposals.
If anything, it had shown him the truth about his country better than any report ever could.
Ignorance.
Half of them had spent their lives as slaves.
Others in fields.
Others on battlefields.
Each knew their trade.
Nothing beyond it.
The peasants spoke of harvests and family safety.
Short-term thinking.
Small.
Useless beyond the next season.
The soldiers wanted war.
More land.
More territory.
At least that made sense.
The underground city was already overcrowded.
Something had to give.
But Klaus—and August—understood the same thing:
Move too early—
and they would be crushed.
First, the Council of Six.
Everything else came after.
—
That evening, Klaus stormed into the captain's quarters without knocking.
"I'm leaving in the morning," he said. "I'm going to see my uncle."
A pause.
"This isn't up for discussion."
August didn't argue.
He didn't need to.
One look at Klaus—
at the cold, controlled violence in his posture—
was enough.
"Fine," August said. "I'll prepare everything."
He leaned back slightly.
"The portal sphere will drop you about two hours from the estate. On horseback—half that."
"Good," Klaus said. "I'm not interested in being seen. Traveling openly would take a week."
—
At dawn, Klaus and Lilith were the first to leave the caves.
Egor wasn't there.
Klaus hadn't seen him since the Twig estate.
He wasn't even sure he would come.
Lilith stood beside him.
Silent.
Blushing at nothing.
Klaus understood.
No one had touched her.
Not really.
Seventeen years in Mor's cellars—
then almost sent to a pleasure house—
but not quite.
A strange kind of luck.
He didn't speak.
Didn't push.
Left her alone with it.
—
August arrived a few minutes later.
No smile.
No mockery.
Dark circles under his eyes.
Klaus frowned.
"What happened to you?" he asked. "Too much wine? Too many beds?"
"Work," August said.
Flat.
Serious.
That alone was enough to make Klaus wary.
"What happened?"
"Two of my spies were caught. Inside the palace."
Klaus stilled.
"They won't give anything useful," August continued. "But my death might stop being convincing."
A sharp exhale.
"Bad timing."
"When is it ever good?" Klaus said.
August didn't answer that.
"You're going to Giro."
That changed things.
"If he finds out I'm alive, he won't need much to connect the rest."
A pause.
"I don't want him knowing we've met."
"You don't need to worry about that," Klaus said calmly. "I'm not handing you over."
August stepped closer.
His hand came up—
gripping Klaus's shoulder.
Firm.
Grounding.
"I'm not worried about myself."
Klaus huffed.
"You're worried about me? What do you think he'll do? Suffocate me in my sleep? Send another army like my mother did?"
A pause.
"I'm not careless."
"You don't understand him," August said quietly. "He's patient."
A beat.
"Stay."
Klaus frowned.
"No."
"We'll find another way. Send a message. Use intermediaries—"
August cut himself off.
Frustrated.
For once—
uncertain.
Klaus studied him.
"August," he said slowly, "you're not acting like yourself."
A pause.
"I don't want to lose you again."
That landed.
Hard.
"We've barely started moving forward."
A faint smile appeared.
Tired.
Real.
"Just come back," August said. "And we'll continue where we left off."
—
A pointed cough sounded behind them.
Klaus turned.
Egor.
Standing beside Goral.
Expression closed.
Cold.
"I thought you wouldn't come," Klaus said.
No greeting.
Egor noticed.
"I thought it didn't matter," he replied.
Sharp.
"Egor—"
"Let's not waste time," Egor cut in.
His gaze flicked—
to August's hand still on Klaus's shoulder.
Stayed there for a second too long.
"Your Highness," Goral said, stepping forward, "allow me to accompany you. Another blade might be useful."
A pause.
"And Egor shouldn't interrupt his training."
"Training?" Klaus repeated.
"Goral—" Egor groaned. "Why would you say that?"
"What?" Goral said, confused. "Aren't you doing it for him?"
Egor flushed.
Deep red.
Klaus saw it.
And, despite everything—
allowed himself the faintest hint of a smile.
So.
He wasn't leaving.
—
Two horses were brought forward.
Klaus raised a brow.
"Only two?"
"Four people and two horses is already pushing it," August said. "And your antimages can barely stay in the saddle."
Klaus let out a quiet laugh.
"…Fair."
"If you allow it," Goral said, already moving toward the black mare, "I'll take the girl. I'm large enough—it makes sense."
"No."
Lilith spoke suddenly.
"I want to ride with my lord."
Both August and Egor rolled their eyes at the same time.
Klaus noticed.
Said nothing.
"Lilith," he said lightly, "you can stay here and wait for me."
She pouted—
but didn't argue.
Moved to Goral instead.
He was already stroking the mare's neck, murmuring to it.
—
Egor approached last.
Still tense.
Still flushed.
Klaus was already mounted.
He extended a hand.
Silent.
Egor hesitated—
then took it.
—
The world twisted.
Folded in on itself.
Then snapped back.
They stepped through the portal.
—
"You didn't promise me," August's voice called after them.
Klaus didn't turn.
"I'll try."
But the portal was already gone.
—
August stood there.
Alone.
He exhaled slowly.
Tilted his head back—
staring at the cave ceiling as if it were the sky.
And tried—
not to think
that he might have just seen Klaus
for the last time.
—
Later that day, needing a distraction—
August made a mistake.
He took Klaus's place.
Agreed to hear petitions.
To "lead."
—
The moment he stepped into the tent—
he regretted it.
Immediately.
Klaus hadn't exaggerated.
Not even slightly.
If stupidity were a contest—
these people wouldn't just compete—
they'd fight to the death for first place.
And picking a winner
would be the hardest part.