ALDRIC

The grand hall was filled with the sounds of the court—soft laughter, the murmur of conversation, and the clinking of glasses as the nobility of Lysander gathered for yet another banquet in the king’s honor. Aldric moved through the throng of courtiers, his face set in a mask of calm control. He exchanged polite nods and formal greetings, his eyes scanning the room with the practiced detachment of a man used to hiding his true thoughts.

But beneath the surface, his mind churned with barely suppressed frustration. Every moment spent in these frivolous gatherings felt like a waste of precious time, time that he and Elara could not afford to lose. They were no closer to finding the hidden passages, no closer to securing the future they had dreamed of. And the more he lingered here, playing the role of the obedient knight, the more he felt the walls of his life closing in around him.

“Aldric.”

The familiar voice sent a chill down his spine, and Aldric turned to see Lady Isolde standing a few feet away, her gaze fixed on him with unsettling intensity. She was dressed in a deep emerald gown that shimmered in the candlelight, her hair swept up in an intricate braid adorned with silver pins. She was every inch the picture of nobility and grace, but there was a coldness in her eyes that belied her outward beauty.

“Lady Isolde,” Aldric greeted her, forcing a smile as he bowed slightly. “You’re looking radiant tonight.”

“Thank you,” she replied, her tone polite but lacking warmth. “You seem… distracted, Aldric. Are you not enjoying the celebration?”

He straightened, keeping his expression carefully neutral. “My apologies, Lady Isolde. I was simply thinking of our upcoming union. There is much to consider.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and Aldric felt a flicker of unease. Lady Isolde was perceptive, far more than most gave her credit for. She had been watching him closely ever since the king had announced their impending marriage, her curiosity morphing into something more akin to suspicion.

“Indeed,” she said softly, her gaze never leaving his face. “Marriage is a serious undertaking. And yet, I wonder if there is something else occupying your thoughts. You’ve been… distant lately. Absent, even.”

Aldric suppressed the urge to tense, forcing himself to hold her gaze. “I assure you, my lady, I have been fully dedicated to my duties. The kingdom’s security must always come first.”

“Of course,” she murmured, a small smile playing on her lips. But it was not a smile of pleasure—it was a smile of calculation. “And yet, I have heard whispers. Whispers that you have been spending your evenings away from the barracks. Away from your duties.”

Aldric’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his face carefully blank. “Whispers, my lady?”

“Yes,” she said, tilting her head slightly as if studying him from a different angle. “People talk, Aldric. They notice things. Like a certain knight who disappears for hours at a time, only to return looking… preoccupied. What, I wonder, could be drawing you away so often?”

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The challenge in her voice was unmistakable, and Aldric knew he had to tread carefully. Lady Isolde was too clever for direct denials; she would see through any simple lie. Instead, he opted for a strategy of deflection, offering her just enough truth to satisfy her curiosity without revealing his real secret.

“I’ve been troubled by reports of unrest near the western border,” he said, his voice steady. “There have been rumors of skirmishes, of potential threats to the kingdom. I’ve taken it upon myself to investigate, to ensure that our defenses are secure. I’m sorry if it has made me seem… distant.”

Lady Isolde raised an eyebrow, the skepticism clear in her eyes. “Investigating skirmishes alone, in the middle of the night? You are either very brave, Aldric, or very foolish.”

“Neither, I hope,” he replied, keeping his tone light. “Simply… thorough.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, the tension between them palpable. Then, to his surprise, Lady Isolde laughed softly, a sound that held no true mirth.

“Very well,” she said, her smile cold. “I suppose I should not question the dedication of my future husband. But I must admit, I find it curious that your investigations take you to such… remote places.”

Aldric inclined his head, acknowledging her point without conceding it. “Lysander’s security is paramount. If there is even a hint of danger, I cannot rest until I am certain the kingdom is safe.”

Lady Isolde’s eyes narrowed, as if she were weighing his words against some unseen scale. “And the king knows of your… extracurricular activities?”

“He does,” Aldric lied smoothly. “I have his full support.”

For a moment, Lady Isolde said nothing, her gaze piercing. Then, slowly, she inclined her head, her expression inscrutable. “Very well. I shall trust your judgment, Aldric. But I do hope that, once we are married, you will devote more time to your… more personal obligations.”

“Of course, my lady,” he said, bowing slightly. “You will have my full attention.”

“Good.” She smiled again, but it did not reach her eyes. “Enjoy the rest of the evening, Aldric. And do try not to disappear again.”

With that, she turned and glided away, leaving Aldric standing alone in the center of the grand hall, his heart pounding. He watched her move through the crowd, her every gesture and smile perfectly calculated, as if she were performing on a stage. But he knew better than to be lulled by her charm. Lady Isolde was dangerous, and her suspicions were growing.

He had to be more careful. She was too close, too clever, and if she uncovered the truth, it would be the end for both him and Elara.

Taking a deep breath, Aldric slipped through the crowd and made his way to the edge of the hall, where he could observe without being observed. His mind raced, turning over his options. Lady Isolde would not stop digging, not unless he gave her a reason to turn her attention elsewhere.

He needed to divert her, to find a way to shift her focus away from him and onto something—or someone—else. But how?

As he stood there, his eyes scanning the room, Aldric’s gaze fell on a group of courtiers clustered near the far wall, their voices low and their expressions serious. One of them, a man with a thin mustache and a jeweled brooch pinned to his chest, glanced around furtively before leaning in to whisper something to his companions.

Aldric narrowed his eyes, a flicker of suspicion stirring within him. The courtiers had been at the edges of power for years, their influence waning as the king’s advisors gained more control. They had always resented the current order, murmuring of change and rebellion. If he could steer Lady Isolde’s attention toward them, if he could make her believe they were plotting something…

A plan began to form in his mind, a risky, dangerous plan. But it was his only chance. He would need to feed Lady Isolde just enough information to make her suspicious of the courtiers, enough to keep her busy while he and Elara pursued the hidden passages. It would be a delicate balancing act, one that could backfire spectacularly if he wasn’t careful.

But he had no other choice.

With a final glance at the gathering nobles, Aldric turned and slipped out of the grand hall, his mind racing. He would protect Elara, no matter what it took. And if that meant playing a dangerous game with Lady Isolde, then so be it.