Lysander stood in front of the grand mirror in his chambers, adjusting his attire as if preparing for yet another courtly performance. His reflection stared back at him—calm, composed, every hair meticulously in place. He knew appearances mattered more now than ever. In the world of noble politics, looking confident and poised could be the difference between survival and ruin.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. He didn’t need to ask who it was; the rhythm of the knock was familiar.

“Come in, Oliver.”

The door creaked open, and Oliver, Lysander’s trusted aide, entered the room. He was a tall man, slender, with a sharp face that rarely betrayed emotion. Oliver had been with Lysander since they were boys, their bond forged through shared secrets and mutual ambition. If there was anyone Lysander could trust in this world, it was him.

“There’s been movement,” Oliver said without preamble, his voice low, as if the walls themselves had ears. “Our sources have confirmed that the Kurogane are gathering supplies at the southern border. It looks like Sibel’s suspicions were correct.”

Lysander turned slowly, folding his arms as he processed this new information. “Supplies for what?”

“A siege, most likely. They’re preparing for something big, but they’re keeping the details locked down tightly. Even our best informants can’t get close enough to confirm their full strategy.”

A siege. That would explain the sudden urgency from Sibel. If the Kurogane were planning a direct assault, it could destabilize the entire kingdom. But Lysander knew better than to assume they would act so openly. No, there had to be another layer to this. The Kurogane didn’t make reckless moves—they were too clever for that.

“What’s your take on this, Oliver?” Lysander asked, his gaze flickering with curiosity.

Oliver’s expression didn’t change. He had a habit of playing things close to the chest. “It’s too bold, even for them. My guess is this is a distraction. They want us to focus on the south while something more significant brews elsewhere.”

Lysander nodded. He had suspected as much. “And Sibel?”

Oliver smirked slightly. “She’s meeting with Father as we speak. She’ll present her findings and push for immediate military action. She thinks she’s moving the pieces on the board, but...”

“She’s only playing into my hands,” Lysander finished, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. “Let her make her moves. We’ll watch and wait for the opportune moment.”

Oliver nodded, stepping closer to Lysander. “There is one more thing. Word has it that a mysterious envoy from the west arrived in the capital late last night. They’re being kept under close guard, their identity hidden. But they’ve requested an audience with the king.”

The west. That changed things. Whoever this envoy was, they held enough weight to demand an audience with the king without announcing their presence first. It had to be someone with considerable influence—or perhaps dangerous information.

“Have we uncovered anything about them?” Lysander asked, already sensing how this could work to his advantage.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Not yet, but I’ll see what I can dig up. There’s been little mention of western powers for months, so their sudden interest is… suspicious, to say the least.”

Lysander’s mind raced. An envoy from the west, the Kurogane’s brewing conflict, and now Sibel’s eagerness to seize control of the situation. The puzzle pieces were beginning to fall into place, but the picture was far from clear. If the envoy’s presence was connected to the Kurogane, there was a much bigger game afoot—one that could shift the balance of power entirely.

“Keep a close watch on the envoy,” Lysander instructed. “If they’re here for more than diplomatic pleasantries, I want to know before anyone else does.”

Oliver bowed slightly, his face as impassive as ever. “As you wish. And what about Sibel?”

Lysander smiled faintly. “Let her continue down the path she’s chosen. For now, we’ll observe. But if she becomes a liability...”

“You’ll handle it,” Oliver finished, understanding Lysander’s unspoken implication.

Lysander turned back to the mirror, adjusting the lapel of his coat with a final flourish. “Exactly. The time will come when all the pieces will fall into place. Until then, we play the long game.”

Oliver left without another word, and Lysander was alone once more. Alone with his thoughts, his plans, and the gathering storm that he intended to turn in his favor.

He left his chambers shortly after, making his way through the labyrinthine corridors of the castle. The usual courtiers and guards greeted him with the deference expected for a son of the king, but Lysander barely acknowledged them. His mind was already focused on the next move. He needed to be seen in the court, but he also needed to make subtle preparations. Information would be the key to outmaneuvering not just the Kurogane, but Sibel, Valen, and anyone else foolish enough to stand in his way.

As he approached the main hall, the sound of raised voices reached his ears. Curious, he slowed his pace, blending into the shadows near a stone pillar as he listened.

“—an overreaction, Lord Valen,” Sibel’s voice rang out, sharp and authoritative. “We need to act now, before the Kurogane gain any more ground. Father must see reason.”

Lysander’s interest piqued. So, Sibel had already taken her concerns directly to Valen. A bold move, but not unexpected. Sibel was always one to strike first when she sensed an advantage.

Valen’s voice, gruff and full of disdain, answered her. “The king is not so easily swayed, Sibel. He knows better than to act on unverified intelligence. You would do well to learn some patience.”

“Patience will get us killed,” Sibel snapped. “The Kurogane are moving now, and we’re sitting on our hands, waiting for them to strike. By the time we’re ready to act, it will be too late.”

Lysander smiled to himself. Sibel was pushing hard, but Valen wasn’t the type to bend under pressure. This confrontation was telling, though—it meant that Sibel’s plan wasn’t as airtight as she pretended it to be. She was desperate to force Valen into action, but desperation rarely yielded favorable outcomes.

“You forget your place, Sibel,” Valen growled. “You may be the king’s daughter, but you do not dictate the affairs of this kingdom. I suggest you remember that.”

There was a tense silence, and Lysander could almost picture the rage simmering beneath Sibel’s cold exterior. She hated being reminded of her limitations, especially when it came to Valen, who wielded far more influence than she ever could.

Sibel’s voice, when she spoke again, was icy. “I will not forget.”

Lysander decided it was time to make his entrance. He stepped from the shadows, his face the perfect mask of neutrality as he approached the two of them.

“Is this a private conversation,” he asked smoothly, “or may I offer my input?”

Both Valen and Sibel turned to him, their expressions unreadable. Sibel’s eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance, but she quickly composed herself. Valen, on the other hand, looked irritated by Lysander’s sudden appearance but said nothing.

“Lysander,” Sibel greeted him with a cool smile. “How fortunate that you should arrive just as we were discussing matters of such importance.”

“Indeed,” Lysander replied, his tone pleasant. “I couldn’t help but overhear. It seems we are in the midst of quite the predicament.”

Valen grunted, crossing his arms. “And what would you have us do, Lysander? I assume you have a brilliant solution.”

Lysander met Valen’s gaze evenly. “We cannot afford to act rashly. But we also cannot afford inaction. A measured approach is what we need.”

“And what does this ‘measured approach’ entail?” Sibel asked, her eyes narrowing.

Lysander smiled. “Simple. We gather more information. We use our resources to determine the full extent of the Kurogane’s plans. Once we know exactly what we’re dealing with, we strike with precision.”

Valen snorted. “You sound just like your father.”

Lysander’s smile didn’t waver. “That is hardly an insult, Lord Valen.”

Sibel regarded him with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. “And you truly believe we have the time to gather more information?”

“I believe,” Lysander said, his voice calm and steady, “that it’s better to act from a position of strength than weakness. And right now, we are operating in the dark. We must shed light on the situation before we make any final decisions.”

Valen grumbled under his breath but didn’t argue further. Sibel, however, continued to watch Lysander closely, as if trying to discern his true motives. She wouldn’t find them, of course. Not yet.

“Very well,” Sibel said at last. “We will wait. But mark my words, Lysander—if this delay costs us, I will hold you personally responsible.”

Lysander inclined his head. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With that, Sibel turned on her heel and strode away, her frustration palpable. Valen watched her go, then turned back to Lysander.

“You play a dangerous game, boy.”

Lysander chuckled softly. “It’s the only game worth playing.”