I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly, as if the world outside could crumble and I wouldn't care—as long as she remained beside me.
"Having you by my side is a blessing," I whispered.
A soft smile bloomed on her lips, delicate and warm, like the first light of dawn brushing over frost. She didn't respond in words—but her embrace deepened, her silence heavy with feeling.
After a long moment of peaceful stillness, I murmured, "Wellesley, I have a surprise for you… Will you follow me?"
My eyes locked with hers, piercing through the veil of the world, seeking something deeper—something sacred.
She blinked, taken aback by the intensity in my gaze, but her response was immediate and unwavering. "Just say the word, Your Highness. I'd follow you into hell."
I chuckled softly. "I didn't know you were capable of delivering such cheesy lines with a straight face."
"It's a special occasion," she replied with a smirk. "I allow myself a little drama when I'm in love."
"No objections, then. But before we leave, I want you to use illusion magic on us. Something simple. Just enough to blend in—we're going on a date."
"A date?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. You and me. No titles. No watchful eyes. Just… two people walking the streets, for once, without the world expecting something from them."
She agreed without hesitation, and with a subtle wave of her fingers and a faint shimmer of light, our appearances blurred and shifted. We now looked like ordinary travelers—plain clothes, no emblems, no trace of nobility.
We stepped out into the sun-drenched city, hands intertwined.
The market was alive—vibrant stalls lined the cobbled streets, scents of roasted almonds and sweet pastries drifting in the air, the sound of laughter, haggling, and chimes mingling with the hum of the crowd. We blended in effortlessly, stealing glances, smiling at nothing, living a moment that was never meant for people like us.
As we walked, I began to recount everything that had happened over the past few days—well, almost everything.
I told her about the stone, the internal tests, and the encounters that had shaped my path recently. I conveniently left out the details of the contest and the deal with the barbarians—for now.
Her reaction was as expected.
"They doubted you?" she fumed. "They dared to test you? And you bowed before those savages to prove yourself?"
I could almost feel the heat radiating off her in waves. Her tone was sharp, each word cutting through the soft buzz of the market.
"If you had called me even once—just once—I would've burned their arrogance to ash. There would've been no one left to question you. I would've answered with their corpses."
I couldn't help it—I laughed.
But my laughter only deepened her glare. Her eyes locked on mine, narrowed with irritation and confusion, asking silently, 'Why are you laughing when I'm ready to tear kingdoms apart for you?'
I leaned in slightly, still smiling. "I'm laughing because… it makes me happy. You care that much. So much that you're ready to wage war for my sake. What more could I ever ask for?"
Her expression softened, her fury melting under the warmth of my voice.
"And what made you think I didn't care before?" she asked, pouting.
'Cute,' I thought.
But before I could say it aloud, she spoke again, "Still, why did you even talk to those tribal people?"
"Now that's the real question." I raised a finger as if to pause time itself. "I know you have a million more running through your mind, but since you were so gracious not to interrupt my dramatic monologue, I'll answer one. Just one. For now."
She rolled her eyes but smirked anyway. "Fine. Just one."
"But before that," I said seriously, "I need you to set up a sound barrier."
She nodded and, with a graceful snap of her fingers, silence descended upon us. The world outside faded into a blur, leaving only the space between us untouched, untouched by noise, by time—by anything that didn't belong to us.
"Wellesley," I began, my tone turning serious. "You already know the investigation team is heading to the eastern region. But what they plan to achieve there—it won't happen easily. The count who governs that area… he's not someone who listens to orders, especially not from the capital."
She nodded slowly, her brows drawing together.
"That man," I continued, "does not recognize the authority of the empire. And while he pretends to be loyal, his actions speak otherwise. He's not alone, either. Most of the counties along our eastern border are acting independently—not openly, not yet—but they're close. Very close. They bend or break royal orders as they please, and for the people living there, those men are the real rulers. To them, the royal family is nothing but a distant myth."
She frowned. "So using force would only turn the people against us."
"Exactly," I nodded. "If we push him down with an iron fist, the entire county will see us as tyrants. There will be no sympathy, no support, no unity."
She was quiet for a moment, digesting it all. Then she asked, "But how do the barbarians fit into this?"
I exhaled deeply. "The barbarians dwell on the easternmost border. Historically, they've always been at odds with those same counties. Hostile, violent, unforgiving. The enmity runs deep."
She tilted her head. "And you're using that hatred?"
"Precisely. I'm leveraging it. I made contact with the barbarians not as a prince, but as a negotiator. They don't trust us, and with good reason. But we share a common goal right now—a need to put pressure on the same enemy."
Wellesley looked at me, stunned into silence.
Then, quietly, she said, "But… why would they help you?"