Lukas reread the note. He shook his head as he kept flipping back and forth.

Moira stared at him as he continued to study every inch of the parchment. She waited for him to find whatever he was looking for, but after a minute she blurted out,

“I need to inform the Steward.”

Moira quickly curtsied and turned around. Before she could leave, Lukas caught her sleeve.

“Take it easy,” he said. “Hollis is probably gonna explode again if you bother him with something like this.”

“Forgive me, but this is something of genuine concern!”

“It’s really not. There’s no clear message, no clear threat, or clear warning.”

“But it does seem like a warning.”

“We don’t even know who sent this.”

“It’s Prince Jorgen.”

Lukas raised an eyebrow.

“Uncle Jorgen?” he asked. “How can you tell?”

“We’ve maintained a correspondence for years. I’d recognize his handwriting anywhere.”

“Wow, really? The man rarely sends me a greeting card on my birthday. And I’m the one whose gonna be King.”

“Your Highness, if this was sent by Prince Jorgen, which I believe it was, we need to consider the possibility of a real attack.”

Lukas stared at Moira for a moment before giving a mischievous grin.

“Alright,” he said. “Look into it.”

“Pardon?”

Lukas put his hand on Moira’s shoulder.

“Princess Moira, I’m putting you in charge of verifying the validity of this warning.”

“Wait, what?”

“You are a master of bureaucracy and information gathering. Just prove that this note is real or not.”

“Wait, I-I can’t do this.”

“Of course you can. And if you do end up finding the warning to be real, you can send your findings to Hollis or even Worland if you need to.”

Moira began to breathe heavily, but Lukas put his hand on her head as if to get her attention.

“It’s most likely nothing,” he said. “But if this is real, I know you’ll figure it out.”

He handed back the note and smiled before walking away.

Moira continued to breathe heavily. She had no idea what he was thinking but he technically was her senior and did have some authority as heir to the throne.

Despite knowing he wasn’t serious, Moira still felt that someone needed to be responsible with the contents of the note.

Still, she had no way of actually proving or disproving its validity. However, if someone with real authority could see the warning in the writing, she wouldn’t really need to prove anything.

Lukas was right about how her Master would react. She could not show this to him. But then she considered Sir Worland.

Sir Worland was the Captain of the knights. He was also the unofficial spymaster in the King’s court. It was his duty to protect the Kingdom, so maybe he would see the danger and do something about it.

+

The barracks looked like a very long hut. The walls were stacked stones and it had a tall thatch roof. It had a lingering smell of manure from the nearby stables though the smell of the barracks was still unique.

Inside were men doing a variety of chores. Some were smithing and organizing armor, while others were training. The rest were eating and laughing on benches.

Moira began to debate whether it was a good idea to enter considering how busy everyone was. She didn’t debate for long though when she spotted Sir Worland speaking to another knight out front.

She gathered herself and took a deep breath as she approached the veteran.

“Good morning, Sir Wo-”

“You didn’t try to stop him?” Worland asked the knight.

Worland had his usual scowl, though it seemed more prominent as he stared down his subordinate.

“Where is he now?”

“I’m not sure, Sir. He said he had to say goodbye to someone.”

Worland began to cough violently. He waved away the knight as he stared off into the distance, trying to regain control of his breathing. He seemed to be hiding something on his face.

Moira was worried about how she should explain the situation to Sir Worland. He seemed more irritated than usual, and yet his scowl was a bit more relaxed with widened eyes.

“Um… excuse me. Sir-”

“What is it, your Royal Highness?” Worland asked, without looking at her.

“Oh. Well… um…”

Moira took a deep breath.

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“I uh… I have a… a note! I have a note for you, Sir Worland.”

“Leave it with the other mail. I’ll sort through it later.”

Worland sighed and began to leave.

“Wait!” Moira grabbed Worland’s arm, catching the gaze of everyone around them.

He snapped his eyes on her this time, making her step back.

“Please…um. This is urgent.”

Moira presented the note to him with a shaking hand.

He stared at Moira as she breathed heavily and blinked repeatedly. Eventually, he sighed and took it. Flipping the note front to back, he seemed confused.

“It’s a warning,” she said.

“A threat?”

“Well no, it’s merely-”

“Warning us of a threat. But what is the threat?”

“Oh. Well, it seems like an attack is… imminent.”

Worland’s scowl became more prominent as he focused further.

“It’s vague.”

“Yes, but it came from Prince Jorgen.”

Worland raised an eyebrow, making Moira put her head down.

“The handwriting seems very similar to um… If this is from one of our allies, I believe it merits further investigation.”

Worland took one more look at the note and shook his head.

“I'm sorry, but no.”

“No?”

“We can not trust anything that isn’t sent through the proper channels. At the very least, it should have been delivered more discreetly than the mail.”

“But what if this was the only way he could send it?”

“Princess, that isn’t-”

“And if he needed to send it through the mail, wouldn’t it have been best to send the most brief of messages?”

“You’re trying to make this more than what it is.”

“Forgive me, but what if this were a real attack and we just neglect it.”

Worland sighed and shook his head again.

“Princess, you should know what we knights are capable of. Because of the magic the King grants us, we have defended this Kingdom from the most dangerous of threats. We stood firm during Emberfall.”

Moira began to shake again.

“We did not underestimate our enemies then and we will not start now. Please leave the defense of the Kingdom to me and I promise you, it will continue to stand tomorrow.”

Moira couldn’t seem to think straight under her embarrassment. Through the shame she managed to muster another question.

“Have you seen the Prince?”

“He’s in the back.”

Moira wanted to rush inside but she still had one more question. Though she really didn’t want to ask, Sir Worland seemed to catch the intention on her face.

“Is there something else, Princess?” he asked.

Moira opened her mouth, but it took another five seconds to finally say it.

“Y-you said you are granted magic.”

Worland’s expression remained unchanged as he stared at her. She hated herself for how much it was about to change.

“B-but… what happens if the King falls?”

Worland’s scowl came back. He handed over the note and walked away fuming again.

Moira kept her head down. She could feel the many who witnessed the conversation staring and whispering. She wished she wasn’t such an idiot.

As if Prince Jorgen would deliver such an important message in such a stupid way. And if he did, why would he send it to someone who would not know where it came from?

Moira tried not to show her face as she found the entrance to the barracks.

Moira did her best to navigate the many soldiers in their revelry. She even managed to dodge a right hook between a couple of brawlers. She quickly shuffled away as more men either tried to put a stop to the fight or entered themselves.

Eventually, Moira found a Prince but was disappointed to discover it wasn’t Lukas but instead her baby brother, Ronan.

“Ronan? What in God’s name are you doing here?”

“I brought him here.”

Sister Bretta walked up to Moira, dragging a couple of soldiers by their ears.

“I wish I was back at the convent, tending to wounded men defending the King’s honor.”

She suddenly slapped each soldier with great force.

“And not children bruised up for acting a fool!”

The soldiers walked away with their heads low and cheeks red.

Sister Bretta wore her standard church robes. Around her neck was a copper necklace with a symbol of Nyr’s Tree on it.

“As I was saying,” she said. “Today I was teaching the little Prince about appreciation towards family. We’ve actually been searching for both you and Prince Lukas. Ronan would like to give something to each of you.”

Moira knelt down and smiled at Ronan.

“Is that true, my Prince?”

Ronan giggled with a bashful glow on his face. He quickly put something in Moira’s hand before hiding behind Bretta. That’s when Moira saw Ronan give her his “black tooth.”

It wasn’t really a tooth, but rather a stone Ronan began biting when he first started teething. Everyone tried to take it from him due to the obvious damage it could do to his still-developing teeth, but because of the tantrums he would make, they let him keep it. With it being in his mouth all the time, it was dubbed Ronan’s Black Tooth.

Somehow, Ronan ended up with a better smile than most of the Kingdom. Still, Moira knew she couldn’t accept something so important to her little brother.

“Oh little Prince, I know I’m a Princess, but you shouldn’t spoil me like this. Here, take it back.”

Ronan giggled as he shook his head. Sister Bretta chuckled and stroked Ronan’s hair.

“Earlier he said it was meant to keep you safe.”

“Well, I just know he’s gonna want it back soon. Come get it later if he starts acting up. Oh and speaking of gifts.”

Moira took out the parcel she had for her. Bretta shook her head slowly.

“Another anonymous donation you stumbled upon?’”

“No, it’s another discarded amount that shouldn’t go to waste.

Bretta raised an eyebrow.

“Scripture dictates I mustn’t take that which belongs to another. Since I am of the cloth, my virtue is absolute.”

“This isn’t for you. It’s for those your convent takes care of.”

“In His name, I cannot accept the token. If it is for His children, why not hand it to them personally?”

Moira smiled as she recalled a passage from scripture.

“Today I read the chapter that speaks of truth.”

“Yes, how truth belongs to us all, but this token does not.”

“But that isn’t how it's written.”

“I have read this chapter many times. There is no mention of-.”

“I’m not talking about scripture, but our inventory’s manifest. It seems the Steward made a few errors. The same goes for the Butcher. Technically this token has never been in our stores.”

“An omission of truth is still-”

“The truth is the ink on the contract signed by the Steward. Try as you might in your stubborn virtue against my Master’s strict bureaucracy, but he won’t ever admit to an error. As for the Butcher, his shop is in a neighboring city. The token would rot before it was ever returned.”

Bretta sighed as Moira began opening the parcel.

“This token will soon belong to no one. So why not accept that and take the donation?”

Moira presented a ham to Bretta.

“Please.”

Bretta sighed once more as she shook her head. She then began to chuckle through a line-filled grin.

“Very well. On behalf of the Sisters of the Green, this anonymous donation is gratefully accepted.”

Moira handed it over with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Moira.”

“It’s always a pleasure, but please continue to address me accordingly. For the sake of appearances.”

“Oh. Well, of course, your Highness.”

The three began making their way out of the barracks.

“Be honest with me, did you actually read that chapter?” asked Bretta.

“I admit, I only read it in anticipation of our meeting.”

Bretta raised an eyebrow as Moira smiled at her.

“Bless me, Sister, for I have sinned,” said Moira.

Bretta sighed.

“I’m sure He’ll allow it this time, as long as I see you and the older Prince at church tomorrow. Speaking of which, have you seen Prince Lukas?”

“I was hoping to find him here.”

“He missed morning mass. Though at least he came toward the end of the service. Ronan gave him his gift and that's when he left to collect something he said he had forgotten. We then searched for you at the Steward’s office but were told you left with the Prince earlier in the morning.”

“And what gift did Prince Lukas receive?”

“A small thistle.”

Moira tousled Ronan’s hair as he giggled.

“Aw. What a generous little Prince you are.”

Moira surveyed the room but still couldn’t see Lukas among the armored men.

“What did Prince Lukas forget?”

“I’m not sure.”

Moira pulled out the note. Despite her shame, she couldn’t help but still feel concerned.

Bretta took Ronan by the hand.

“If there’s nothing more, I’ll be taking this little one back to the Church.”

Moira pondered for a moment whether she should tell her about the note.

“You might wanna visit the workshop,” said Bretta. “Lukas is usually there at this time of day, studying.”

She noticed the note.

“What’s that?”

If there was no real threat, then there was no need to panic the nun. But then Moira remembered the part of the note that said, ‘trust no one.’

If this threat was real and Moira shouldn’t trust anyone, then it pointed to a possible conspiracy in the Kingdom.

“Just a formality,” said Moira. “But thank you. I’ll be sure to check the workshop.”

“Well then, may Nyr watch over you.”

Bretta curtsied while Ronan gave an exaggerated bow. Moira watched as Bretta walked and Ronan waved all the way back to Church.

Moira didn’t want to accept such extremes, but for the time being she felt it would be best not to share the note with the common folk. After all, there still wasn’t a tangible threat. She now needed to inform Lukas about Worland’s stance on the issue.

Still though, if Prince Jorgen knew about an attack and possible conspiracy against the Kingdom, why would he warn Lukas?

The vague nature of it all was starting to frustrate Moira. But she wanted to believe Prince Jorgen had a reason for all this.

Moira left and started making her way to the workshop.