CHAPTER 53: RETURN

Edward retraced his steps, each motion deliberate, every breath measured. He scuffed out prints, bent to smear the edges of boots with dirt, mixed the faint splatters of blood into mud with the heel of his palm. His hands moved like a craftsman’s, but his mind churned behind them—half detective, half criminal. Every trick he had ever used to reveal the truth, he now twisted into a cloak to bury it.

Minutes bled into a long hour.

The night air pressed cold against his skin, sharper with each passing turn. Patrols prowled the streets with an almost predatory rhythm, lanterns swaying in their hands like drifting will-o’-wisps. Edward slid from alley to alley, patience his only ally. Each pause in shadow stretched into eternity as he waited for guards to pass. His pulse kept time with the echo of boots across cobblestone.

Finally, the familiar street stretched before him. The townhouse stood quiet, a black silhouette against the dark sky.

Edward crossed quickly, twisted the knob with careful fingers, and slipped inside. The door shut with a muted click.

He let his shoulders relax for the first time that night—only for two figures to step from the shadowed hall.

"What took so long?!" Seraphine’s sharp voice cracked, her eyes narrowed.

Before Edward could form an answer, Aeris pressed, her tone low but cutting. "What happened to your shirt?"

Edward’s gaze dropped.

The fabric was torn across his side, wrapped hastily into a band to staunch a wound that wasn’t even his. Blood had already dried into the weave, dark and stiff. Not to save the man, he had known that was futile, but to keep the trail from betraying them. Blood meant evidence, and he knew that better than anyone.

For a moment, he lingered on the thought—how he keeps losing shirts ever since he came to this town. Then, he shook the thought away.

"There’s been some... complication," he muttered, brushing past them and walking into the dining room.

The chair groaned as he sank into it, exhaustion dragging at his body. Aeris and Seraphine joined him almost instantly, one on either side, their gazes fixed on him with equal intensity.

Edward told them everything.

His voice was steady, recounting each step as though delivering testimony in a court of law. The ambush in the street, the blade raised high, the black shortsword piercing through the hooded man, the flight through alleys, the shallow grave beneath the trees. Every detail laid bare.

When at last he finished, silence pressed down upon them.

Seraphine sat forward, her nails brushing dangerously close to her lips, eyes clouded with fear. Aeris remained upright, posture unyielding, but her expression had darkened to match the weight of the tale. Edward alone seemed unmoved, his gaze distant, mind already racing beyond what had transpired.

The premonition he had felt in the Crimson Oath’s lair returned now with clarity. That attack had been no random strike, no reckless show of force. It was deliberate—a diversion, a ploy designed to pull the prince away and buy time.

And now, Auren, the man most likely behind Chief Warren’s death, was weaving Crimson Oath soldiers into the very veins of the town. Not in whispers, not in shadows—openly, in numbers far greater than they could hope to contain.

Edward’s eyes narrowed.

"Aeris," he said suddenly, the sharpness in his tone snapping her from her thoughts.

"Yes?"

"You and Seraphine will ride for the capital. We can’t trust letters with this information. You will find Prince Arthur. He must hear what’s happening here directly."

Seraphine’s head snapped up. "What? What about you? Why just us?"

"I’m staying," Edward said without hesitation. "Someone has to watch their movements. One of their soldiers just died. It’s a matter of hours, maybe days if we’re lucky, before the body is found. They’ll know it was us. If all three of us leave, it will only provoke them further, maybe push them into something reckless... we don’t wanna risk lives of the innocent townfolk."

He paused, eyes shifting between the two of them.

"My role is to observe. Yours is far more important. You must convince the prince—and perhaps even the king—of the danger this town faces. We don’t have time to waste."

He rose from his chair, the decision final in his stance. "You should leave immediately."

Aeris sat in thought for a long moment, weighing the words. Seraphine, however, stood in an instant, her face raw with emotion.

"You can’t just—"

Aeris placed a hand on her arm, steadying her. She rose slowly, resolve written across her features. "We will make him believe," she said with confidence.

Edward inclined his head. "See that you do."

Without another word, Aeris guided Seraphine toward the stairs. Their footsteps carried quick urgency as they began to pack.

Edward lingered, alone now in the dining room. His gaze drifted across the table, the walls, the quiet corners. His mind catalogued, turned, and calculated.

And then, inevitably, his eyes found the fireplace.

He moved toward it. One by one, he tossed every stained scrap of clothing into the flames. The fire ate through them, black smoke curling up the chimney, carrying away the last traces of blood.

Auren would suspect them regardless. The soldier’s watch, the timing, the disappearance—it all pointed too cleanly toward them. But Edward refused to leave a trail. To kill a man and leave evidence behind would have been an insult to his once profession of a detective. If he were to cross this line, he would not do so carelessly.

When the fire left nothing but ash, Edward turned from it. He climbed the stairs in silence, the weight of his choices pressing heavier with each step.

In his room, he opened the wardrobe and pulled on a clean set of clothes.

The moment he fastened the last button of his shirt, a knock came against his door.

"We... we’re ready," Seraphine’s voice called from the other side.

Edward stood in the quiet room for a moment. His gaze drifted toward the window, where the faint glow of dawn threatened against the horizon.

The game had shifted. They were no longer chasing empty leads but fighting a full-on battle against a threat far bigger than anything they could’ve imagined.