“Historian Tuk,” the prince said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Do you know why small birds survive in a world full of predators?”

The question caught her off guard, but the metaphor wasn’t lost on her. “Because they’re quick, Your Highness,” she replied cautiously, “and because they know how to avoid drawing attention.”

The prince tilted his head, considering her answer. “Exactly,” he said, his tone light but laced with something darker. “But even the quickest bird can falter if it’s too focused on survival. Sometimes, it needs to learn to strike back.”

The firelight flickered across his features, casting shadows that made his smirk all the more sinister. Tuk’s breath hitched as the heat radiating from him seemed to seep into her very bones, suffocating and inescapable.

“Tell me, Tuk,” he whispered, his voice so soft it sent a shiver down her spine. “Are you ready to strike?”

Strike what? Her throat tightened, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. His words were a challenge, a test she wasn’t sure she understood. But then she remembered the small birds from earlier, their wings beating furiously as they fought for the piece of jerky she’d tossed. They weren’t predators, but they weren’t helpless either.

“Yes, Your Highness,” she said finally, her voice steady despite the fear curling in her chest. “When the time comes, I’ll be ready.”

The prince’s smile widened, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something almost like approval in his eyes.

“Good,” he murmured. Then, his voice shifted. “Now tell me, Historian Tuk… why do you think the historian’s office is hidden beneath my palace?”

Tuk hesitated, startled by the sudden change in topic. Why? How would I know? Maybe you just have a weird hobby of keeping everything under your thumb, I thought, but I wisely kept my mouth shut. My head was too fond of being attached to my neck.

“I… I guess it’s to protect the historians and the scrolls, Your Highness,” I replied carefully, weighing each word.

The prince’s smirk deepened. “No. It’s because some truths are safer buried. Even the emperor is content with the illusions we offer.”

His voice dropped, turning colder. A shiver raced down my spine.

“D-does that mean we’re doing something illegal, Your Highness?” I stammered, my voice shaky despite my best attempt to stay calm.

A soft laugh escaped him. He covered his mouth, but his shoulders shook, unsettling me. I froze.

Was he... laughing? What was so funny?

“Oh, Tuk,” he said, like I’d just told the best joke. But I hadn’t. I just wanted to leave—he was scaring me. “You’re always so amusing. But no, that’s not why you’re here.”

His smirk faded as he stepped closer, his eyes sharp now. “There’s no such thing as a legal or fair world. You should know that by now. If you want to survive, you must hide your true purpose. Only show people what they want to see. That way, no one will know where to strike.”

He leaned in, his face mere inches from mine. I fought the urge to step back.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Ah, isn’t that what you’re good at?”

“What do you mean, Your Highness?” I squeaked, trying to hold his gaze but squinting because—seriously—does this guy know how dangerous it is to look that handsome and intimidating at the same time? He’s not exactly my type because he's too scary, but with that look? Who wouldn’t bend?

I can’t be the only one affected by whatever aura he’s giving off, right? Even his words feel like riddles, each syllable twisting tighter around my brain. Is this what losing my grip on reality feels like? No, wait, Tuk. Now is not the time for that! Focus!

His smirk deepened further, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes now. “You hide well, Tuk,” he mused, circling me slightly. “Too well. Most men flinch when I get this close. Yet here you are, standing firm. Interesting.”

My stomach twisted. Was that a test? Was I failing or passing?

“I’ve simply gotten used to Your Highness’ presence,” I lied, forcing a casual shrug.

He hummed, unconvinced. “Have you now?” he murmured before, to my horror, reaching out and brushing a stray strand of hair from my forehead.

I stiffened. My heart nearly stopped. That was too close.

The prince’s fingers lingered just a second too long before he pulled back, watching me with an almost playful expression.

“For one, the court believes I study scrolls because I enjoy languages and history. After all, the empire strictly follows the rules that the great Marcellus Arvad created, giving us the perfect cover for a harmless hobby, wouldn’t you say?”

“Everything has a reason and a purpose. For one, the court believes I study scrolls because I enjoy languages and history. After all, the empire strictly follows the rules that the great Marcellus Arvad created, giving us the perfect cover for a harmless hobby, wouldn’t you say? Something to make me seem smarter.”

I stayed quiet as he stepped even closer, his golden-brown eyes locking onto mine, unyielding.

We’re the ones studying the scrolls, not you, I corrected him in my thoughts. Last time you opened one, you asked me to explain what the writing meant. Smarter, sure. And who is this Marcellus, anyway?

“But the Arcanographica is not just history. It’s power within,” he said, his tone low and deliberate.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. Power. That word carried too much weight coming from someone like him. What kind of power are we talking about? The scrolls I’ve decoded so far speak in riddles, always circling back to the dragon.

“Second,” he continued, “to keep the emperor and the court distracted, I give them just enough truth about the holy dragon—just enough to mislead them. If they don’t know what we’re really doing, they can’t stop us.”

He leaned in again, his voice dropping to a whisper near my ear. “When you build in silence, no one knows where to attack. And if someone does stand in our way… they must be crushed completely—body and spirit.”

A cold dread settled in my bones at his cruel words, my breath hitching at his proximity. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

“Do you understand now?” he asked, pulling back slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“I… I don’t, Your Highness,” I admitted, blinking in confusion.

Not a clue. Please stop leaning so close—I can smell your hair oil, and it sure smells nice.

“Good,” he said, his smile widening. Then, to my surprise, he raised his hand and lightly tapped the top of my head, like one might do to a pet. His fingers lingered for just a moment before he drew back.

“That means you’re not the one who spread about the scrolls,” he added, his tone lighter now.

I stared at him, my mind reeling. The tap on my head left me frozen. It wasn’t harsh or mocking—it felt almost… gentle.

Did he just… boop me? What am I, a puppy?

“If… if this is about the traitor among the historians, I will assist Sire Leo however I can, Your Highness,” I managed to say, struggling to regain my composure.

“I am counting on you. But you’re still coming to the emperor’s banquet soon,” he said with a smirk. “Don’t worry—you don’t have to do anything. Just watch and keep doing what you do best.”

His hand landed on my shoulder, firm but not heavy, like it carried weight without pressure. Before I could process the gesture, he turned and dismissed me.

I entered his tent nervous but ready to face whatever he had planned. I left it more confused than ever, my heart beating faster than I wanted to admit.

“That man is impossible to understand,” I mumbled to myself, heading back to where the warriors were waiting. My steps were quick, as if I could leave the strange, lingering feeling behind.

Did he eat something good that affected his mood today? They better serve it to him every day.