Vaelorian left the Emperor's study with the approval he needed, but his victory felt hollowed out by the news of Duke Ashbourne's impending arrival. The weight of the world had shifted from military logistics to familial politics. He knew he had to tell Riven immediately.
Vaelorian bypassed the official palace channels and headed directly to the Knight's Quarters, a bustling, noisy place Riven frequented only out of necessity. He found Riven with Barron and Willow, their heads bent over a newly acquired map, still deep in strategic chatter.
"Lord Riven, I require your immediate counsel on a matter of extreme urgency," Vaelorian announced, his voice carrying just enough official urgency to silence the room without causing alarm. He caught Riven's eye and gave him a tiny, non-verbal command. "Now, please!"
Riven rose instantly, nodding to his friends. "My apologies, guys. Duty calls." He fell into step beside Vaelorian, his expression curious. "Urgency, Your Highness? Did my fight with the General really upset your father that much?"
Vaelorian didn't reply until they were down a secluded hallway. He grabbed Riven's hand and, with a subtle surge of his borrowed teleportation gift, they vanished from the hallway, reappearing a moment later inside the sanctuary of Vaelorian's private chambers.
Riven steady himself, giving Vaelorian a wry look. "Still no subtle way to manage that, Your Highness? I feel so freaking dizzy. What's the rush?"
Vaelorian hung his coat in the closet and shut the door before turning, the worry clear on his face. "The rush is very political, personal, and potentially explosive." He walked to the window, unable to stand still.
"My father just informed me. Duke Ashbourne is coming to the Palace. Within the week."
The Prince waited for the inevitable explosion of shock or fury. Riven simply stood still, digesting the information. His reaction was not the immediate anger Vaelorian expected, but a startling, profound stillness.
"My father is coming here," Riven repeated, his voice flat. "That's...unexpected."
"Unexpected is an understatement, Riven," Vaelorian countered, walking back to him. "He hasn't spoken to you in months. Not since you initially rejected the knight position, and certainly not since you returned to service and my betrothal was broken. By not talking to you or hearing you out, he basically banished you in everything but name. Now he's coming here, supposedly to discuss timber contracts? Does that even make sense?"
Riven finally moved, walking slowly to the small decanter of wine and pouring himself a glass, his eyes distant. "He doesn't need to visit for timber contracts. A letter would have sufficed. He's coming to see what I have become here."
"Exactly!" Vaelorian stressed, walking over and resting a hand on Riven's shoulder. "He's going to scrutinize every detail. No offense, my love, but your father is a very proud man. He's going to see your decision to be stationed here—with me—as either a colossal insult or a lack of better judgement. What if he requests to have you reassigned? I don't want you to leave. We need to prepare."
Riven turned, the glass held loosely in his hand. He took a slow sip. "Prepare for what, Vaelorian? He knows I'm a logistics commander and chief strategist in the Emperor's Knight Squad. There's nothing to hide."
He offered Vaelorian a faint, almost mischievous smile. "Honestly, I'm just curious to see what he's going to say this time. He wanted me to be a soldier, a traditional knight. He thought my look was a weakness, but then he saw how good of a fighter I've become. And now I'm the imperial logistics commander with a good relationship with the crown prince. He has to reconcile that."
Vaelorian looked at Riven, admiring his composure even as he worried about the storm brewing beneath it.
"Why are you so frighteningly calm about this?"
"I'm just tired of worrying about what my father thinks," Riven confessed, a genuine weariness in his tone. He has done everything the real Riven wanted. "I've spent years trying to measure up to his expectations. I'm done with that. He's coming to my turf now. We'll see how he measures up." Riven put down the glass and looked at Vaelorian, the confidence returning to his eyes. "You and I have survived Imperial decrees, assassination attempts, and six weeks with a battle-hungry General. We can handle one disapproving father. But I'm curious, what exactly did your father say he wanted to discuss with us?"
Vaelorian finally relaxed, reassured by Riven's unexpected resolve. "He wants a meeting tomorrow to discuss the official strategy for dealing with the Duke's visit. My father also thinks he might request to have you reassigned. We need to prove that you are an asset to the Crown right here in the imperial palace, I can't bear the thought of being here without you."
The Emperor's plan was clear. They need Riven's presence in the imperial Palace to be seen as an undeniable political advantage when Duke Ashbourne arrives before he tears it all down.