At the top floor of Tartaro's town hall, in the office of Count Veznik, a short fat man with a balding head in a black robe with golden embroidered and the ruler of this town, slammed his pudgy fist with many gold rings on his fingers onto a bunch of ledgers on top of his desk.
"You're telling me WHO is walking my streets and doing WHAT right now?!" His double chin jingles as he throws away the letter that he was reading in his other hand to the floor after the report scroll arrived to him from the townguard captain that told him about the sighting of Zarba's group in his town.
From what the report said, the prince had already purchased two wagons and was currently walking around the market with his companions to buy travel supplies right now.
"We believe they are the associates of the imperial crown prince and Prince Zarba himself, my lord," replied the Tartaro townguard commander Krolik with his long mustache curled on top of his lips and his aged face scrunched as he gestured to the sketched figures of Zarba and his group on the posters that were scattered on the count's desk. "The man fits the crown prince's description: brown hair, brown eyes, brown skin, and accompanied by three females, an elf descendant, a warrior woman, and a little girl of unknown race. They are being escorted by Black Knight guards..."
Count Veznik's fist trembled against the ledgers as he thought about the implications of this situation Zarba had caused him. He had hoped the nonsense between the imperial family and the Bastari family would remain far, far away out of his life, but now it had slithered into his town like a venomous snake.
"Why can't you just head straight to the goddamn bridge?!" Veznik hissed, with his gaze looking out to the sole window of the room, where the silhouette of the bridge loomed on the horizon beyond his town, where the coalition of the mercenaries and the nobles' army was supposed to ambush the prince and his group on the bridge.
"Should we... capture the prince, my lord?" Krolik asked, his dark brown eyes looking at the Count with uncertainty. They can probably surround the prince and his group now if they act with haste, but the count seems reluctant, so the townguard commander wants to make sure if he is on board with the idea.
"Goddamn it...! We don't even have justification to act, and we can't pretend not to notice since who knows how many spies are keeping track of the prince's group..." The count's voice trailed off as he pressed two fingers against his throbbing temple. This really put him in a tight spot, a risky gamble with a lose-lose outcome.
No matter which side he picked, he would be targeted by the other.
'Doom if I acted, still my doom if I didn't!' Veznik feels his stomach starting to hurt from stress.
"There's also another option, my lord..." Krolik's whisper was barely audible over the desk in front of the count. "If we alert the mercenaries then—"
"Then my fucking town will be a battlefield!" Veznik roared, sending a porcelain inkwell on the desk crashing to the floor. The sound of shattering ceramic barely muffled the distant sounds of his townspeople going on about their business—a mundane normality that was familiar to him but now felt very annoying to the count. Veznik really wants to shout out at the people outside about what he is currently dealing with.
"But if the other nobles learn we just let him pass..." Krolik trailed off, his mustache quivering as he imagined the consequences that definitely will follow as the scent of spilled ink mixed with the count's nervous sweat filled the room.
"Hah...!" Veznik exhaled sharply through his nose with a resigned expression; he knows he has to make a decision right now, or he will be automatically assumed to be the loyalist that is the weakest faction of the empire since no sane person is going to support the mad emperor's reign of arbitrary terror.
"Ahhh, fuck it! Order the town guards to capture them!" Veznik finally barked, flecks of spittle dotting his ledger. He decided to side with the Duke, as they are the stronger faction. "If they resist, we'll claim they were bandits and forcefully arrest them. If they don't... well, the bounty pays the same either way..."
"Yes, my lord!" Krolik saluted and turned around, walking out of the office to carry out his order after hearing the count's decision.
Seeing Krolik go out with his armor clinking like coins in the pouch, Veznik turned back to the window where the evening last light bled across the river. Below, lanterns flickered to life along Tartaro's crooked streets—moths and insects already dancing around their glow. The fat count's reflection in the glass looked grim, like he was a man on death row.
"Damn it all, why do I have to be involved in this...?" Veznik hissed through clenched teeth. Just his luck that the prince would visit his town and force his hand, causing his perfectly planned neutrality to crumble like a castle made of sand.
Unbeknownst to Count Veznik, his decision today would come back as the worst consequence possible and blow up in his face very soon.
÷×÷×÷
'Everything is proceeding smoothly,' Krolik smirked to himself as he strode down the well-lit corridor of the town hall, his iron plate boots clicking against the smooth stone floor. The curled edges of his mustache seemed to twitch with satisfaction. 'Duke Habanero would be pleased if he knew of this...'
It had taken years of careful manipulation and luck before he actually managed to get into his position as Tartaro's townguard commander under Count Veznik—all just to wait for a moment like this so that he can move to carry out a plan that would benefit the Duke of Karo.
Krolik's fingers reach toward the concealed necklace with a golden coin that has a zero-letter engraved on it, which is tucked securely beneath his armor and shirt, the metallic coin cool against his collarbones, an identification item that marks him as one of the Duke's countless agents across the realm.
The Count Veznik never suspected a thing—he was too busy counting his coins and stuffing his face with honeyed pastries most of the time, like the gluttonous fool he was. He won't ever suspect that his entire security force is not entirely loyal to him.
Now Krolik must act on the count order but not in the way that Count Veznik would expect. He would relay the order for the town guards to mobilize against the prince's group, yes—but with deadly force meant not to capture but to eliminate.
A fatal "accident" during the arrest would serve Duke Habanero's purposes far better than delivering Zarba alive into the hands of any indecisive and unreliable nobles.
"And I would be greatly rewarded in return—" Krolik's triumphant expression suddenly froze as one of the corridor's lanterns snuffed out, casting a long unnatural shadow across the walls and ceiling that cut off his path forward as a humanoid silhouette shape detached itself from the shadowed wall—a tall cloaked figure now stood in the corridor blocking the path.
"Who...?" Krolik's hand immediately moves to his sword hilt as he looks at the figure's face but can't see anything since it's hidden beneath a deep hood, but the smell of great danger this figure emits is making him not want a confrontation with the mysterious figure at all costs.
"You look like a man with a plan..." The figure's deep voice sounded out from the figure, making Krolik very nervous as his fingers tightened around his sword—but the blade wouldn't budge from its scabbard as if it were fused to the leather since he instinctively knew that he would die if he decided to pull it out.
"Could you share a detail with me?" The cloaked figure murmured, stepping out from the shadow. The light of the lanterns on the walls illuminated the figure as the town guard commander could see the shadow writhing beneath the hood where the figure's face should be.
Krolik's throat went dry at the sight. It looks like things might be getting a little too complicated for him...
÷×÷×÷
At the smithy, while Zarba is looking around for the right armor with Nadia, the reincarnated prince suddenly feels like his peace will be disturbed very soon for some reason.
"What is it now..." He clicked his tongue as he looked outside the building but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
'Better be ready for it...' He's sure something will soon happen, but he doesn't know when, as his protagonist's sense is tingling.
"Hey, do you think this would suit me?" His attention soon draws to Nadia, who is very enthusiastic, showing him a cuirass with a large open boob window.
"No!" Zarba instantly rejected her ridiculous choice of armor.
"Why?!" Nadia complained.