Chapter 13

Gustav's smile didn't falter, though his eyes narrowed to slits. "Is this how a once-revered Marshal usually conducts himself?" He gestured to his attendant, who crouched at his boot to wipe away the spit.

Wilhelm's lip curled. "Are cheap tricks the Vazquez family specialty?"

The smile slipped from Gustav's face; his expression darkened. "Watch your tongue. It was your negligence that allowed the horse pulling my carriage to be poisoned under your watch as the head of security—an act that led to the Empress's death! Do not twist the truth!"

"Do not dare preach to me about my daughter!" Wilhelm jolted to his feet, chains clanking as they bit into his wrists. "Then answer me this, Gustav. Why were you absent from the banquet before the parade? Where were you that night?"

Gustav sneered. "Are you implying I poisoned my own horse merely to kill the Empress, wagering my life in the process?" His jaw tightened. "I was the one meant to die—!"

"Meant to die?" Wilhelm cut in with a bitter scoff, tone rising. "If you were the one meant to die, then why is my daughter buried in the ground while you still breathe? Tell me, Gustav—who benefited from her death, from the fall of House Godfrey?!"

"Do not spew nonsense to deflect your failures!" Gustav jabbed a finger toward Wilhelm. "Your incompetence didn't just cost us an Empress. It endangered the monarchs of other nations who attended as guests! Do you grasp the weight of that, Wilhelm? Do you understand that your negligence could ignite a war?!"

"I do not ask for pardon!" Wilhelm took a step forward. "I demand justice! If I am to fall, let it be by the blade of truth, not the lies of opportunists—"

"Enough!" Cyrus' voice thundered, silencing the square. "Have you no shame, trading barbs like squabbling merchants in front of the Empire's citizens?"

Gustav bowed his head at once, while Wilhelm's fists tightened at his sides.

Cyrus shifted his gaze to Wilhelm. Their eyes met for a lingering moment, and the Emperor's shoulders sank with a weary sigh. "…I can only ask that you accept the trial's verdict—"

A loud metallic clatter echoed through the square, drawing all eyes toward a small silver orb rolling to Wilhelm's feet. Black smoke erupted from it, engulfing the space in a flash, plunging the room into chaos.

"Argh! Help!"

"A surprise attack!"

"Protect His Majesty!"

Jostling through the crowd, Lucien rushed toward Wilhelm. "Grandpa!"

A hand yanked at his wrist, wrenching him back. A damp, sharp-smelling cloth pressed over his face, burning his lungs. His vision faded, and darkness swallowed him.

…

A sharp, excruciating pain pierced his skull. Lucien grunted and clutched his head. Blinking against the dim light, he was greeted by a familiar painting—a cavalry locked in battle—its worn colors casting eerie shadows above his canopy bed. Bringing his hand to his eyes, he saw a calloused teenage hand, marking his return to the real world.

"I will fetch the Physician," Sanchez's voice cut through the haze, followed by the soft click of the door opening and closing.

Glancing at the source, he found Wilhelm seated beside his bed, worry etched into his features. The man reached out and gently brushed his hair. "How are you faring? Are you experiencing any pain?"

He studied Wilhelm for a moment too long, and only then did he grasp the depth of Lucien's fear in the foresight. With Roseanne gone and Wilhelm facing execution, Lucien would be left alone.

A powerless young prince in the palace was as good as dead.

Lucien shook his head. "I am well, just a slight lightheadedness." He pushed himself up with Wilhelm's assistance. "For how long have I been unconscious?"

"Nearly half a day," Wilhelm answered, steadying him before handing him a glass of water.

"Thank you." Lucien took a sip; the cool liquid soothed his parched throat.

"Perhaps we should delay your return to the capital. You need time to recover."

Lucien whipped his head toward Wilhelm in surprise. "No. Please proceed as planned."

After witnessing the chaos of the future, he couldn't afford to remain idle. He had already wasted three months searching the library for nothing. The sooner he returned to the capital, the sooner he could uncover the clues that might lead him home.

Wilhelm let out a heavy sigh. Before he could protest, a knock interrupted them.

"Your Grace, I have brought the Physician," Sanchez announced.

"Enter."

The door creaked open, revealing Sanchez and the Physician stepping inside. The Physician commenced examining him and concluded. "Your Highness collapsed due to fatigue. There are no signs of illness, but you must rest properly. I will prepare a tonic to aid your recovery."

Lucien nodded faintly. "Thank you."

Once the Physician excused himself, Lucien turned back to Wilhelm. "Please proceed as planned."

Wilhelm regarded him with an unreadable expression, then sighed deeply. Rising to his feet, he rested a hand on Lucien's shoulder. "Let's address this in the morning. For now, get some rest."

Lucien swallowed a groan. Just like father, just like daughter—both were impossible to reason with when it came to his well-being. With no room for argument, he begrudgingly conceded. "I understand."

After bidding each other goodnight, Wilhelm and Sanchez exited the chamber. Left alone, he flopped back onto the bed and stared at the painting above him. Raking his fingers through his hair, Lucien exhaled a long breath.

The foresight was unquestionably the continuation of the last. Could the unmentioned accident that ruined House Godfrey be connected to Roseanne's death and Wilhelm's disgrace? The chaotic scene, however, left him uncertain whether Wilhelm was executed or assassinated.

But what unsettled him most was this: who in the world dared to abduct Lucien under the Emperor's very nose? Another of Godfrey's enemies, or a play by the Vazquez family?

Clicking his tongue, he rubbed his temples as the headache worsened. Chasing countless scenarios only made his head throb. Sleep was the only solution. There was no point in dwelling on possibilities without immediate answers; he would revisit them when he had the right resources.

With that, he turned in for the night.