CHAPTER 36: SMALL TALK

Edward inclined his head slightly. "Your Majesty."

"Please, just call me Arthur,"

The prince waved off the formality as he led Edward toward the balcony. The air outside was sharp and crisp, carrying the faint scent of roasted meats and wine drifting from the banquet hall.

"How are you finding the banquet so far?" he asked.

"Good," Edward replied, his eyes still scanning the guests inside through the glass.

"I saw you brought two girls with you." The prince’s tone carried a mischievous edge. "I must say, I didn’t take you for the type..."

"What? No, I—"

"I’m only jesting. Relax." The prince chuckled, though his eyes didn’t lose their keen glimmer. He leaned on the balcony’s stone railing, gazing out over the torch-lit town below. "I’ve made all the arrangements for tomorrow, but..." His voice lowered, almost confessional. "I can’t shake this uneasy feeling. Are you certain we can trust the words of your friend?"

Edward paused.

His gaze flicked back through the glass to where Seraphine was speaking animatedly with Aeris, her black silk dress catching the light. "I believe we can," he said, though the words tasted heavy.

"Hmm." The prince studied him for a moment, then nodded. "I trust your judgment. Perhaps it’s nothing. We royals are raised to expect betrayal at every corner. We see shadows where none exist. I suppose it’s simply a bad habit."

He turned back toward the night. The torches along the streets burned steadily, illuminating the gathered crowds still celebrating the announcement. "Why this town, I wonder?" he murmured. "The capital I’d understand, but here? What makes this place special?"

"Less soldiers?" Edward suggested cautiously.

"Perhaps," the prince answered absently, still deep in thought. Then, with a small movement, he produced a folded piece of parchment from within his coat. He pressed it into Edward’s hand. "All the details about tomorrow are here. Only you, Chief Warren, and I know them. The soldiers believe we’ll be conducting training exercises. They have no idea about the Crimson Oath."

Edward slipped the paper carefully into his jacket. "Smart," he thought, though the responsibility weighed heavily in his chest.

"Take care of yourself, Edward," the prince said at last, his smile practised but his eyes sharp. With a polite nod, he returned inside, his presence instantly swallowed by the swell of nobles.

Left alone, Edward drew a deep breath of the cold air.

He lingered for a few heartbeats before a softer voice broke the quiet.

"You okay?"

He turned to see Aeris standing beside him, the pale blue of her dress luminous beneath the moonlight. The tied-back strands of her hair revealed the curve of her neck, and though she carried herself with her usual stoic composure, the night air had left a faint flush on her cheeks.

"Yeah." He straightened, meeting her eyes briefly before pulling the folded parchment from his coat.

Without a word, he handed it to her.

She blinked, taking it. "What’s this?"

"From the prince. These are all the plans for tomorrow. No one else can know."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she read his expression, then she nodded firmly, slipping the parchment safely away. "I’ll keep it secure."

The two of them stood in silence, the night air heavy with unspoken tension.

Then, suddenly—

"Here!"

Seraphine’s voice rang out, shattering the quiet. She bounced up to them with three glasses in her hands, grinning ear to ear. "I brought drinks." She thrust one into each of their hands and lifted hers high. "Cheers to us!"

Edward and Aeris exchanged a glance, but both raised their glasses half-heartedly. "Cheers," they said quietly, before drinking.

"Why are you standing out here? It’s freezing. They’re serving food—we should eat!" Seraphine urged, already heading back into the hall.

With little choice, Edward and Aeris followed the girl inside.

The next part of the banquet passed more quietly. They ate courses richer than anything Edward had ever tasted—roast duck glazed in honey, tender venison, fruits that glistened like jewels. For a moment, the murders, the cultists, and the uncertainty of tomorrow faded beneath the veil of royal indulgence.

Afterwards, Seraphine insisted that Aeris accompany her to refresh, leaving Edward momentarily alone at the long table. He leaned back in his chair, observing the shifting tides of noble interactions, when a voice cut into his thoughts.

"Have you known the prince long?"

Edward turned, startled, to see a tall man standing beside him. His long black hair was tied neatly behind his head, his posture refined yet relaxed.

"Huh?" Edward muttered, narrowing his eyes.

"I beg your pardon," the man said smoothly, inclining his head.

"I am Auron, a friend of Chief Warren. I couldn’t help but notice you speaking with the prince earlier. Can’t say I’ve seen you before. Someone so young already gaining his attention—that’s impressive."

Edward studied him carefully. "Friend of the chief?" he wondered for a moment before speaking out loud.

"I met the prince only recently."

Auron’s lips curved into a polite smile. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Something to do with the recent killings, perhaps?"

Edward froze, his instincts immediately on edge. Something about the man’s smile rang hollow, like a mask too perfectly set.

Before Edward could respond, however, a sudden commotion erupted at the far end of the hall.

"Chief Warren!" someone cried.

Edward’s head snapped around. The chief was doubled over, coughing violently. His face had gone pale, his body wracked with tremors. The sound grew harsher with each cough, followed by dark flecks of blood splattered across his sleeve and the floor.

"Chief Warren!" Soldiers rushed forward, but his body gave out before they could reach him. With a sickening thud, he collapsed onto the marble floor.

The music screeched to a halt. Silence swept across the hall, broken only by the ragged sobs of the chief’s wife as she fell to her knees beside him.

Edward stood frozen, his mind racing, as the weight of the moment crashed down like a storm.

And just like that, the banquet had turned to chaos.