At the outskirts of Eldham Vale, Baron Slovene’s villa.
Morning broke gently over the hills, washing the fields in soft golden light.
Inside the villa’s east wing, a man sat in silence by the window, one elbow resting on the table, his hand cradling his chin.
Sunlight filtered through the parted curtains, casting warm stripes across the wooden floor and catching faint motes of dust in the still air. His gaze, calm yet focused, lingered on the winding road beyond the hills.
His tousled brown hair frad a face marked by quiet confidence, and his dark eyes, steady and unreadable, gave little away.
"They are near, my lord," a voice said gently behind him.
An elderly woman, face lined with age, placed a small cup of steaming tea onto the table beside his elbow. Her voice was soft, but it carried a weight earned from decades of silent service.
The man didn’t turn his head. He simply reached for the teacup, lifted it to his lips, and took a slow sip. The warmth spread through his chest.
Allen Slovene.
The Slovene family had four children. At least, that was what the forged records showed.
The eldest, Henry Slovene, served the empire from the shadows. Outwardly, he was attached to a modest departnt in the court archives, a position that invited little scrutiny. But behind that quiet title, Henry was the head of the empire’s spy division, running one of its most critical covert operations.
The youngest sibling, Clara Slovene, only sixteen, had already spent two years undercover in the Wittelsbach Duchy, serving as one of the household maids. Her mission was to gather intel and aid Alessio’s covert mission from within enemy territory.
And then there was the third son, Alessio Slovene. Though not born into the family, his na had been listed in the registry from birth to conceal his true identity.
And Allen...
He was the second son of Baron Slovene.
On the surface, Allen was just another knight quietly serving in the palace. He was dutiful, distant, and unremarkable. But behind the scenes, he was the personal guard to the crown prince and Alessio’s most trusted companion.
Though the two weren’t bound by blood, they had grown up together, trained together, and bled together. On paper, they were brothers. In reality, Allen was the prince’s right hand.
He never left the prince’s side.
Even over the past three years, when Alessio began working undercover as a knight in the Wittelsbach estate, Allen remained in the shadows, silently watching over him and ensuring his safety.
Clink.
He set the cup back on its saucer with a asured calm, the porcelain tapping lightly against the table.
"Alright," he murmured, rising to his feet, his expression composed. "Let’s get ready."
The woman bowed, her movents graceful and silent. "Yes."
* * *
anwhile, far down the vale, Johann’s group pressed forward on the winding road that led deeper into Eldham Vale.
The sun had risen higher now, chasing away the early fog that once blanketed the hills. The sky above had turned a gentle blue, and with each passing mile, the path narrowed into the kind of secluded trail only locals would know. The land here felt quieter, more untouched. Fewer farms, fewer signs of recent travel.
Johann rode at the front, eyes scanning the terrain ahead. Behind him, a handful of knights followed at steady pace, their horses trotting over uneven ground with natural rhythm.
"We’re close," Johann said, narrowing his eyes at the map he kept folded in his coat. He gestured to a fork in the road ahead. "The baron’s villa should be just beyond those hills. Half an hour more at most."
"Still seems odd to build a noble’s villa out here," one of the knights muttered from behind. "There’s barely anything around. Not even smoke from chimneys. You sure this isn’t so kind of trap?"
Johann didn’t answer imdiately. He adjusted the strap across his chest and glanced up at the gentle morning light. A faint breeze had picked up. Cool and dry.
"I don’t trust it either," he said finally. "But it’s not a trap. If it were, we’d already be dead."
He continued, "Besides, the baron was certain. Said the villa was tucked near the southern edge of the forest, built long ago. Not many people live out here now, but it still belongs to the family."
"Alright then," one of the knights replied with hesitant look.
They continued on, passing through a grove of silverleaf trees that shimred faintly in the wind. The path narrowed again as the slope rose gently, curving toward the peak of a low hill.
As they crested it, the land opened.
There, nestled among tall pines and flanked by overgrown hedgerows, stood the villa.
It was a modest structure by noble standards. White stone walls with ivy creeping up their sides, pale blue shutters, and a pointed slate roof. There was no sign of servants, no carriages, no guards patrolling the grounds. Just a single chimney with no smoke, and a cobbled path leading to the front door.
Johann slowed his horse, raising a hand to halt the others behind him.
"...This is it?"
"It’s quiet, but it doesn’t look empty," one of the n said, squinting toward the windows.
Johann said nothing for a mont. Then he dismounted in one fluid motion, landing softly on the gravel.
"Stay alert," he said as he adjusted his coat and approached the gate.
The others followed suit, boots crunching softly against the ground as they spread out in a quiet semi-circle. Not drawing their weapons yet, but close.
The iron gate creaked open with a gentle push.
They stepped into the front yard. The grass here had grown a little wild, but not completely neglected. The hedges were trimd just enough to suggest soone still cared for the place.
As Johann reached the front door, he took a deep breath.
The air was strangely still.
He lifted his hand and knocked firmly.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
After a minute of tense waiting, the door creaked open from the inside. The knights tensed, hands hovering near their weapons.
But instead of a threat, a small girl, perhaps no older than ten, peeked out through the gap.
"Huh? Who are you?" she asked, blinking up at them with wide eyes.
"A... kid?" Johann murmured, his brows furrowing in confusion.
Before he could say more, a voice called from deeper inside the house. "Sarah, where are you going—?"
A plainly dressed woman stepped into view, wiping her hands on her apron. Her steps faltered the mont she noticed the armored n standing at the threshold. Her eyes widened briefly, but she quickly composed herself.
"Oh my, are you guests?" she asked politely.
"Uh, yes, that’s right," Johann said, clearing his throat. "We’re here looking for Sir Alessio Slovene." His expression was carefully neutral, but his shoulders remained tight with tension.
The woman tilted her head, then smiled with relief. "Oh, Lord Alessio! He’s in his grandmother’s chamber at the mont. Please, co in. I’ll let him know he has guests."
She opened the door wider and gestured them in. The knights exchanged quick glances, still wary, but the sight of the harmless girl and the woman’s warm deanor finally convinced them. Their hands dropped from their hilts, and they stepped inside, exhaling in quiet relief.
The interior of the villa was far neater than the weathered stone exterior suggested. Though modestly furnished, the floors were swept clean, the wooden furniture well-kept, and the scent of herbal soap lingered faintly in the air. Sunlight stread through sheer curtains, casting gentle patterns across a low table surrounded by cushioned chairs.
"Please take a seat, gentlen," the woman said with a kind smile as she guided them into what appeared to be a parlor. "I’ll go call for the young lord."
They nodded and sat down. Despite being in her thirties, the woman’s features were youthful and soft, her kind expression enough to make a couple of the younger knights glance away with slightly reddened cheeks.
"Ahem... thank you, ma’am," one of them muttered.
Once she disappeared down the hallway, the n allowed themselves to look around more freely.
"This place is actually in decent shape," one of them remarked, leaning slightly forward in his seat. "From the outside, I thought it’d be more run-down."
"Yeah," another nodded. "Maybe they just don’t have enough hands to tend to the exterior. But inside... it’s spotless."
"It has a lived-in feel," Johann added thoughtfully, resting his arms on his knees. "Warm. Not like a noble estate, really. More like a family ho."
Their quiet observations ca to a halt as soft footsteps approached.
A tall, broad-shouldered man entered the room, unmistakably familiar. His brown hair brushed the tops of his ears, and his eyes, wide and surprised, locked onto Johann.
"Sir Johann?"
It was the comrade he knew so well, the one who had been working with him at the Duchy.
Alessio Slovene.
Reviews
All reviews (0)