lygni`s pov
The carriage moved with an insulting smoothness through the polished stone streets of the Capital. The rhythmic sound of hooves on the perfect pavement was a constant reminder of how far I was from Valenreach, where packed earth and suffocating dust were the only companions for those who dared to walk.
Through the window, I observed the incessant flow of the elite. People wrapped in fine linen and silk, displaying vibrant colors that Valenreach's relentless sun would have faded in days. Shops crowded every corner; merchants shouted offers of spices and fabrics from lands beyond the sea. Everything there breathed an obscene wealth, an opulence that seemed to deliberately ignore the open wounds in the rest of the kingdom.
We crossed the central plaza, a vast monument to royal vanity. In the center, children played in crystal-clear fountains, oblivious to foul politics and the crushing weight of crowns. The day was beautiful, under a blue sky that seemed to smile at the city's glittering facade.
However, the mask began to slip as the carriage turned onto a side street, plunging into a narrow alley.
The further we advanced, the more the splendor gave way to the raw reality of the outskirts. The glow of polished stones was swallowed by damp, shadowy alleys. Colored linen became grayish rags, and the scent of flowers was replaced by the acrid odor of smoke and accumulated misery. The Capital had two faces, and I was diving into the darker one.
The vehicle finally stopped before a small, ordinary-looking house, squeezed between other buildings worn down by time. The coachman climbed down and opened the door with a mechanical bow.
"We have reached your residence, my lady," he announced.
I simply nodded with a short movement of my head. I grabbed my bag and stepped down, feeling the heavy air of the outskirts return to my lungs like an old enemy. Before entering, I looked toward the end of the street. On the horizon, the silhouette of the Royal Castle rose imposingly—magnificent, perverse, and unreachable for the vast majority of the kingdom.
"Where should I put this one?" the coachman asked, pulling out the second and last suitcase.
"Leave it on the ground," I replied, and he placed it by my side.
"My lady," he said, bowing before departing shortly after.
I picked up the bags and pushed the heavy wooden door. The interior was shrouded in gloom, smelling of old parchment and cold tea. A man sat near the cold fireplace, his features devoured by shadows.
"What are you doing here, Roma?" I snapped at the man, without letting go of my burden.
"Can't I visit my old battlefield friend?" the man said, turning slowly.
"Friend?" I arched an eyebrow. "Get the other one out too."
From the shadows in the back, a second man emerged, yawning and cleaning a fingernail with the tip of a pocketknife.
"Look at that, I see you're as sharp as ever," the newcomer said, standing beside the other with total disinterest.
"And you here too, Brin?" I asked, staring at the two of them. "Shouldn't you be with the Princess and the Prince?"
"Well, they are in the safest place in the kingdom. I suppose there are plenty of 'useful' people to protect them until we get back," Roma replied, turning to me with a corner-smile.
"Need help?" he asked, gesturing to the bags with his chin.
"Why would I want your help?" I replied, dropping the bags on the floor with a dull thud.
Roma let out a dry laugh, but Brin just shrugged, putting his knife away.
"Independent as always, refusing even kindness," Brin commented, shaking his head in a bored manner.
"Kindness? I don't expect kindness from either of you," I said, looking at them. I walked to the fireplace and, with a swift movement, lit the wood. The flames soon began to crackle, illuminating the small room and revealing their armor beneath their cloaks.
"We were curious... why did the King call for all his children, but the bastard is in the middle of nowhere?" Roma said, his voice laced with venom.
"And how the hell do you expect me to answer that?" I said, facing them. "I just arrived myself."
They leaned back against the wall. Roma still stared at me as if he wanted to cut me, but Brin was already looking at the door, tapping his foot rhythmically on the floor.
"Well, since there's nothing new, let's go, Brin," Roma said. "This house could collapse on top of us at any moment."
He walked toward the door, but before leaving, he stopped and shot me a deadly look.
"It's good to see you didn't drown in the swamp. I would spend my entire life cursing the gods, but seeing that you're alive... this way, I can kill you with my own hands and witness your final breath."
I let out a short laugh.
"Still holding a grudge, Roma?" I said, looking at him. "Fine. My blade will be waiting for that day to come," I said, looking at him seriously.
He let out a brief, cold laugh. "It's good to wait, because I will rip your head off and feed it to the pigs. Nothing will be left of that conceited face."
Brin, who was already outside the door, just poked his head back in and rolled his eyes at Roma's dramatic scene.
"He says that every week, Lygni. Don't take it personally; he's a resentful man," Brin gave a long yawn. "Goodbye. Try not to get involved in anything too stupid, and don't die until he finally kills you. Until then, stay alive until we meet again," he said, leaving.
I said nothing, and soon the door was closed with the boom of Roma's impact. I stood in silence. If the royal guards were here, and the legitimate heirs as well, then something of catastrophic proportions is happening at the palace. And Prince Aether, in his exile, is the only piece that doesn't fit on the board.