That night, Prince Lucan and his wife were preparing for bed when a guard suddenly entered their courtyard.
"The master wants to see you," the guard announced.
The couple looked at each other.
After months of not knowing who their captor was, soone had finally stepped forward. Why now?
Many thoughts ran through their minds, but they had no choice. This was a call they had to answer.
Prince Lucan stood. Princess Karen followed. She called the maid and took her son into her arms.
She knew they were completely at the rcy of these people. She knew she might not be able to protect her child even if she held him tightly. Still, she pulled him close, seeking comfort in his small warmth. Only when she could see him would she be at peace.
When they stepped out, only one guard stood before them.
Prince Lucan sighed softly. He could feel other guards hidden at every turn, behind trees, and along the walls, watching.
This was the first ti he was allowed to walk beyond the small courtyard. Though darkness covered the grounds, he could see enough.
This was not just a hidden estate.
It was a military camp.
Torches burned low along the training field. Weapons racks lined the walls. Even at this hour, he could hear the faint clash of steel from a distant yard.
Elite soldiers.
Disciplined. Silent.
His heart trembled. Although he had always known about the soldiers, only now did he understand they were training elite soldiers.
Soone was planning a rebellion. And this person was more careful than the Third Prince had ever been—more patient than Lord Aureline. He did not believe that a place like this was built in a few months. There had been at least five years of work.
The more he thought about it, the colder he felt.
This eting would change everything.
They were led into the main house and down a long corridor. The guard pushed open a wooden door.
"The master awaits."
Inside, the study was dim. Only one lamp burned on the desk, its fla low. Shadows filled the room.
They could see a man seated behind the desk—broad shoulders, steady posture—but not his face. The light did not reach him.
"Sit," the man said.
His voice was calm. Deep. Controlled.
Prince Lucan did not sit at first. He looked around the room. No windows were open. One door behind them. Two shadows by the far wall—guards.
Princess Karen slowly lowered herself into the chair, still holding their son. Lucan sat beside her. He tried to make out the man’s face, but it was hidden in the darkness.
The man folded his hands on the desk.
"I will speak plainly," he said. "Give up your right to the throne. Publicly renounce your claim. Align with ."
The fla flickered.
"I will let your family live."
Silence filled the room.
Lucan’s jaw tightened.
"I reject," he said at once. "I would rather die than betray my brother."
A faint sound ca from the dark—almost like a quiet laugh.
"How noble," the man said. If the prince could see his face, he would have noticed the disdain.
The lamp fla bent as if stirred by breath.
"How do you think you were kidnapped under your brother’s watch?" the man asked softly. "It has been almost a year. You are still here."
His fingers tapped once against the wood.
"Do you truly believe he cares about your life?"
Princess Karen’s grip on their son tightened. She had no trust in King Edward, especially since he had tried to harm her son.
Lucan’s heart pounded, but his voice remained steady.
"My brother may be many things, but he would not harm . You do not know my brother," he said. His confidence did not co from his brother, but from their mother.
"I know enough," the man replied. "A king protects his throne first. Blood cos second."
The words hung heavy in the air.
Lucan leaned forward slightly.
"If my brother wanted dead, I would already be dead."
The man did not answer at once.
Instead, he rose slowly from his seat. He stepped closer—but still remained in shadow.
"Think carefully, Prince Lucan," he said. "You mistake survival for love."
Princess Karen felt a chill run down her spine. The room seed smaller. The air thinner.
"One word," the man continued quietly. "One oath to stand beside . Your son grows safely. Your wife returns ho. You live."
The lamp crackled.
"And if I refuse?" Lucan asked.
The man stopped walking.
"I do not like involving the innocent in my revenge," the man answered.
Silence.
Only the faint breathing of their child broke it.
Lucan reached for Karen’s hand under the table.
His voice was calm but firm.
"I will not betray my brother. Not for fear. Not for life."
The shadows did not move.
But the temperature in the room seed to drop.
The man returned to his seat. "Why do you think you have a choice?" he asked.
Prince Lucan felt his heart drop, but he chose to remain silent.
"You have been missing for so long. Do you think that if a banner of rebellion were raised in your na, your dear brother would trust your loyalty?" the man asked.
Prince Lucan lowered his gaze. He knew he had no negotiating power. Yet he could not bring himself to betray his brother.
The man watching from the shadow was relieved to see that Prince Lucan still cared about family.
"I will not betray my brother," Lucan said at last. "But if you defeat him, I will willingly give up my right to the throne in the presence of everyone. You can kill —but let my family go."
"Wise choice, Your Highness."
With that, he signaled with his hand, and the lights in the study brightened.
"Ernest," Princess Karen and Lucan called out at the sa ti. They had heard the news about him being the son of the late prince, but they never thought he had the ability to hold them captive for almost a year.
"You have never been loyal to the court," Prince Lucan said. There was nothing he wanted more than to draw a blade and kill this traitor.
"Why should I be loyal to a king who killed my father?" Ernest asked. He did not grow angry at the prince’s fury.
"Those are just baseless rumors," Prince Lucan argued even if he knew those rumors were likely true.
"I know better than anyone whether they are baseless rumors or not," Ernest replied. He paused.
"And I am sure that if you are truthful to yourself, you know what kind of man your father was. Your brother poisoned your son—do not tell you think your ruthless father was any better."
Prince Lucan wanted to argue, but he had no words.
"I waited many years to claim his head, but heaven struck first. I thought to let it go. You and your brother were innocent, so I did not want to carry the grudges of the older generation. My mother’s wish was that I grow up safely. But your brother..." Ernest’s voice hardened. "Ti and ti again he has proven unworthy. He left no choice."
Prince Lucan wanted to argue, but words failed him. He had already heard about Ernest’s wife and children. Perhaps Ernest had deliberately left his family in the royal city to tempt his brother—but his household had been attacked this was a fact.
"I never had a true claim to the throne. If you defeat my brother, I will give up my right to it," Prince Lucan said.
Ernest signaled to a guard. The man stepped forward with ink, pen, and Prince Lucan’s royal seal.
Prince Lucan said nothing. He picked up the pen and began to write.
After he was done, he sealed the letter and handed it to Ernest.
Ernest read it and nodded in satisfaction. "You will return to your courtyard and wait for news," he said.
The couple rose and turned to leave.
"Oh... Princess Karen, your father has sent aid to help find you," Ernest announced.
Prince Lucan paused. He wondered if Ernest was giving this information to see whether he would attempt to escape. But he was not foolish. If he dared to act, he had no doubt Ernest would have his entire family killed.
After all, his death could easily be frad on his brother. No one would expect the seemingly powerless Ernest to have the resources to kidnap him.
Ernest watched the two leave, and his carefree expression disappeared.
"Master," his trusted subordinate stepped forward.
"Raise the banner," Ernest instructed. Anastasia was in King Edward’s hands. He had to return to the royal city as soon as possible. He believed that with his disappearance and his uncle’s actions, Edward would not harm her for the ti being. She had beco a tool for negotiation.
Thinking about Anastasia’s unknown situation, his anger flared. There was a traitor in his camp, and he needed to deal with him.
"At once," the aide bowed.
Ernest rose and noticed a small note on the table.
He picked it up and imdiately recognized the handwriting.
"I am willing to write to my father and support you for the throne, on one condition."
Ernest read the short ssage.
"Interesting," he murmured with a faint smile.
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