Four riders and two horses appeared beside the same ruined house where they had once met the man in black.
August.
Back then, he hadn't even bothered to give his name.
The estate was close.
Too close to waste time.
They moved immediately.
—
"Will you stop fidgeting?"
Klaus's voice cut through the air as Egor nearly slipped for the third time.
"I'm not doing it on purpose!"
"You didn't complain last time," Klaus snapped. "Or is it suddenly unbearable to sit this close to me?"
Egor went silent.
Completely.
He stopped moving.
Let Klaus pull him back—firm, controlled—until his weight rested against his chest.
—
"My lord… do I really have to wear this helmet?" Lilith asked. "We're going to your uncle's estate. Wouldn't it be easier to present me as a bed slave instead of a soldier?"
"Don't be stupid," Klaus said flatly. "An unmarked slave can be used by anyone."
A pause.
"I'm not branding you."
Another.
"It's safer like this. Soldiers aren't touched without permission."
Lilith fell quiet.
—
They were expected.
The gates opened immediately.
Giro himself stepped forward.
"My dear nephew! You had me worried," he said warmly. "Why so long? And how did your reunion go? You must tell me everything."
He turned sharply.
"You—prepare a table for three. Take the prince's attendants to the kitchen."
Then back to Klaus.
Eyes sharper now.
"I see your retinue has grown. You'll explain that as well?"
Klaus met his gaze without blinking.
"Haven't you already learned everything about what happened to me?"
Giro laughed.
"Don't overestimate me. I'm not omniscient."
A gesture.
"Come. Someone is eager to meet you."
That—
was wrong.
Klaus felt it instantly.
He motioned for his people to leave.
None of them moved.
Giro's brow lifted.
"Klaus," he said mildly, "your soldiers are poorly trained."
A beat.
"And where is that boy? The one you recently acquired?"
Klaus didn't turn.
"I left him in a nearby village," he said calmly. "You were right. Bringing him along is inconvenient."
A pause.
"You may go."
This time—
there was no room to argue.
They obeyed.
Reluctantly.
Egor lingered half a second longer—
just enough to notice—
then turned and followed the others.
—
"So," Klaus said lightly, "who is this mysterious admirer?"
His tone was relaxed.
His body wasn't.
Everything in him had already tightened.
Something was off.
Too few guards.
Too few slaves.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that didn't happen by accident.
Giro didn't answer.
—
"Brother!"
A young man rushed down the stairs in light, embroidered armor, five guards behind him.
Klaus turned.
Recognition came a moment later.
"Abel."
"I thought you were at the border."
"I was," Abel said quickly. "But when I heard you were here, I handed things off and came immediately."
A grin.
"Where have you been all this time?"
"It's a long story."
And not one he intended to share.
—
They had never been close.
Not like with August.
Same age.
Nothing else in common.
—
During the meal, Abel didn't stop talking.
Complaints spilled out—cold tents, bad food, no proper beds.
Klaus listened.
Barely.
"You should try living without luxury," he said at one point. "It builds resilience."
Abel's smile tightened.
For a second—
something sharp flickered underneath.
Then it vanished.
—
Klaus had always been like this.
He listened to August.
Really listened.
To stories. Battles. Hunts. Even nonsense.
But Abel?
Ignored.
Always.
And Abel hated it.
—
"So," Giro cut in, "why were you gone so long?"
"Complications."
"Be specific."
"You already know what happened at the former queen's estate," Klaus said. "I escaped. I couldn't return immediately."
A pause.
"I needed time to recover."
"And your father?"
"A message came. He wishes me a swift recovery."
A beat.
"But he isn't waiting for it."
Another.
"He expects me home."
"And?"
"That's all."
Giro didn't push.
He understood.
Returning to Anatodom meant stepping back into danger—
unprepared.
—
"I'll escort him," Abel said suddenly. "I haven't been to Anatodom in ages. I miss the palace."
"You have duties," Giro said.
"What's more important than the prince's safety?" Abel shot back. "I'll take soldiers, escort him, and return."
"Klaus?" Giro asked.
"We'll discuss it later," Klaus said. "Privately."
A pause.
"But I'm not convinced returning is… wise."
That was enough.
—
A soldier burst in.
Dropped to one knee.
"My lord! Disaster! The slaves have revolted!"
Giro stood so abruptly his chair scraped.
"Revolted? Have they lost their minds?"
"We don't know! They attacked all at once! We tried not to kill them—they're your property—but we can't contain them!"
A breath.
"You must activate their marks!"
Giro turned to Klaus.
"My apologies. We'll continue shortly."
Klaus inclined his head.
But inside—
everything sharpened.
Slaves didn't revolt.
Not like this.
Not without reason.
The pain of activation alone should break them.
So why now?
Why here?
—
"Well then," Abel said, forcing a smile, "shall we walk?"
"I'd rather rest."
Klaus needed information.
Needed eyes.
Needed control.
"You're ignoring me again," Abel snapped. "I came all this way."
Klaus exhaled.
"…Fine. A short walk."
—
They crossed the estate.
Nearly two dozen soldiers surrounded them.
Too many.
Abel kept talking.
Klaus barely listened.
He was watching.
Counting.
Windows.
Angles.
Blind spots.
Too quiet.
Even the soldiers—
silent.
Too silent.
—
"Why so many?" Klaus asked, nodding toward them.
"I'm the king's nephew," Abel said. "Status matters."
"Four is enough."
"That's the minimum," Abel scoffed. "You brought three—and two of them look barely capable. People will talk."
"The law doesn't specify numbers," Klaus said calmly. "Only that a highborn is not alone."
Abel rolled his eyes.
—
Klaus had always hated crowds.
At the palace—
he was never alone.
Guards.
Servants.
Voices.
Always someone.
Now?
He didn't care.
Let them talk.
—
"You've changed," Abel said quietly. "What happened to you?"
"Send someone for my men."
"Why? You already have enough."
Klaus looked at him.
Cold.
Unmoving.
Abel broke first.
Gave the order.
—
Egor, Goral, and Lilith were already waiting.
"My lord," Goral said.
The others followed.
"Yes," Klaus said. "I want to rest."
That was enough.
Goral understood.
—
"You're leaving already?" Abel asked.
"Yes."
Klaus didn't look at him.
He went inside.
Abel followed—
until the door shut in his face.
—
Only then—
did he understand.
—
Moments later—
raised voices.
Shouting.
Then—
steel.
Clashing.
—
Klaus had planned to send them to investigate.
But whoever started this—
ran out of patience first.