The Baroness looks at you, genuine worry etched across her features. A shadow flits over her face, but she says nothing—true to the reticent manner of the aristocracy, who often prefer silence to the discomfort of alarming news.
—Your Grace, your fortune—or rather, your misfortune—has brought us together in this exact place and moment. As though the stars themselves conspired first to unravel your path, only to steer you, at last, toward mine. And the stars, as you well know, are never wrong. Your reign is faltering. You must return swiftly, before the damage to your lands—and your name—becomes irreparable.
—That much I know, my dear Baroness. But thank you for confirming what I feared. Still… fears are but shadows. I need truth, not omens. Do you have more details? What exactly happened back in Moravice? And who’s behind it?
—I know not who is truly behind it, but I’m convinced it’s retaliation for your uncle’s role in the war against the Emperor. There are two main possibilities: either Emperor Claudius himself seeks to destabilize the region—though in my view, that is the least likely.
—And the more plausible one?
—Someone within your inner circle. Someone exploiting your current vulnerability to challenge your father’s claim to the Duchy—or, at the very least, to siphon as much as they can before order is restored. Merely leaving your lands in such times… Your Grace, you’ve placed yourself in grave danger.
—And what should I do, then? And why did you offer me the diamonds?
—If I may be so bold as to advise you, Your Grace: finish your journey quickly and return to Moravice without delay, before the rebellion sparks into open flame. I’ve heard whispers—rumors of your death. They may have even reached the Duke himself. God only knows what he must be feeling right now. And in a place like this, there are always knives for hire, eager to turn rumor into truth for the right price. You’re in grave danger. Leave this city while you still can—either make for your uncle, if that remains your plan, or better still, turn back to Moravice at once.
As for the diamonds, they were meant as a gesture of loyalty to the Moravian crown. I stand to lose much if rebellion takes root. Call it a prepayment of future taxes, if you like. Or better yet, a tool. You’ll need coin, perhaps to buy off mercenaries or secure safe passage. Either way, you’ll find it useful when your status is no longer enough.
—Thank you for your help, Baroness. I’m forever in your debt…
She inclines her head, the faintest trace of a smile crossing her lips—but her eyes remain watchful to your surroundings.
—Then you truly believe that I face immense risk trying to reach Zalenica?
There’s a pause. The kind that tastes of caution.
—Yes, Your Grace. The only advantage you possess now is that few know you’re still alive. The desert paths are not what they once were. Raiders grow bolder with each passing day, and not all who ride beneath your banner do so with loyalty in their hearts.
I wouldn’t recommend going to Zalenica—especially not by night. The smugglers’ trails are teeming with hired blades, and the caravan routes are watched. Too many eyes linger where coin is expected—and tongues are all too eager to wag for the right price.
I advise you to turn back to Moravice… the safest route is to ride hard to the south, and not stop until you reach the dry well at Rasha’s Spine. There, switch mounts. That, among other things, is what the diamonds I’m offering you are for.
From there, continue straight to the edge of the Painted Cliffs, to the city of Al-Mirkat. You’ll find those still loyal to your cause—but caution will serve you well even here. Ask for Lord Gustav. He remains fully devoted to your house. If anyone can help you from there, it’s him.
She lowers her voice, gaze sharp as flint.
— But be discreet. In Al-Mirkat, even loyalty has a price—and ears have learned to live long by listening. And whatever you do, never sleep in the same place nor make camp beneath the same sky twice. In this heat, the knives come slowly—but they come all the same.
— Thank you for your counsel, Baroness. But I must ask—have you heard any news of Hiacynt, son of the Voivode of Drevanyn and Lady Margaret of Velhradus?
They accompanied me as far as the desert’s edge, yet to my dismay, I awoke alone—abandoned, stripped of provisions, left to the mercy of sun and sand. I believe they drugged me, then fled. If they meant to kill me, they lacked the courage to do it with their own hands.
— I’m very sorry to hear that, Your Grace. I’ve heard no word of them. But I must confess something troubling. There are whispers—persistent ones—that the Voivodeship of Drevanyn is no longer loyal to the Crown. And though I cannot yet offer proof, all signs point toward one man: Lord Ignacjusz. I fear he is not merely tolerating rebellion, but leading it. It seems he seeks to unseat your father and claim the Duchy for himself.
— If his father has turned against mine, then Hiacynt’s betrayal comes as no surprise.
Still… I have no words to measure my disappointment. I suppose greed never shines through friendly eyes—until it’s too late to react.
Seeing the plight you are in, the Baroness speaks softly, her voice laced with quiet resolve.
— I came here on family business—matters delicate enough to require my personal attention. I have well-placed kin in this city, whose influence stretches far enough to ensure the safety of my holdings.
She pauses, then adds with a measured look:
— I return to Moravice in two days’ time.
Her gaze lingers on you, thoughtful.
— If Your Grace is inclined to return as well, I would be honored to escort you to my relative’s estate. It is the most secure haven in this city for one of your station. You’ll be safe there—watched over and well guarded—until we ride.
I must also insist you keep these diamonds close, Your Grace—should fate force us apart. My protection extends only as far as my reach, and that reach is limited in this city’s shadows.
She pauses, her eyes steady and sincere.
—Please, accept my offer.
With that, she presses the small bag of diamonds into your hand once more—an unmistakable token of both loyalty and urgency.
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