Chapter 29: The Grand Duke Reads an Ancient Name (1)

"Careful, Your Highness," I said softly.

The Crown Prince did not look away.

"I am trying to be."

Oh. How very, very interesting.

Perhaps the imperial puppy had not merely brought bait.

Perhaps he had found a key.

The exhibition hall remained quiet around us, though it was not empty. Scholars moved between glass cases with reverent caution, whispering to one another as if their voices might bruise the relics.

A few selected nobles admired ancient blades and treaty fragments with varying degrees of genuine interest.

Most were likely here to be seen being educated.

A difficult performance for some, I imagine.

One young lord had been staring at the same ceremonial spear for the past five minutes with the grave expression of a man trying to read a language he did not know.

The plaque was in modern Yarinan.

A tragedy in three acts.

Still, despite the number of people present, the space around us felt separated. Not because Abi had cast a barrier this time.

He had not, which was remarkable restraint on his part, I dare say. No, this separation came from the Crown Prince’s words.

Because Sonomi is not merely land to your family, is it?

Not many would dare say such a thing to a Konstantin in the face.

Fewer still would understand that the statement was not flattery, insult, or idle speculation.

It was a dangerous inquiry.

I looked at the cracked tablet once more.

Lorillis.

Not the Lorillis Desert, as one would expect from common records. Not the deadliest terrain in the continent, or a region, or even a geographical nightmare that swallowed armies and humbled kingdoms.

It was a name.

An old one.

Ancient enough to have been carved in Paravel before the empire had learned to wear its legitimacy like a crown and degenerating.

"Where was this found?" I asked.

The Crown Prince’s gaze shifted briefly to the tablet. "In the lower vaults of the imperial archives. Officially, it was catalogued as a damaged campaign record from the founding era."

"Officially?"

"Unofficially, it was misfiled."

I smiled faintly. "Hmm. How convenient."

"I agree."

At least he did not insult me by pretending otherwise.

I leaned closer to the glass case and studied the inscription. The tablet was broken along its left side, leaving several lines incomplete. The words that remained were weathered, but legible enough for someone properly trained.

Fortunately, I was properly trained.

Unfortunately, however, this was becoming too troublesome for my liking.

The text referred to early imperial envoys who traveled eastward under oath-binding protocols. The language was archaic, ceremonial, and irritatingly fond of repetition.

Ancient scribes truly adored making a single point with seven lines of decorative solemnity.

I understood the appeal, but I did not have to like it.

Still, between the cracked sections, one phrase stood out.

...before Lorillis, keeper beneath the sun-scoured silence...

I narrowed my eyes.

Keeper?

Not ruler. Not spirit. Not god.

But a keeper?

Hmm. Interesting.

Abi moved beside me, his earlier amusement nowhere to be found. His amethyst eyes had dimmed into something colder, older. For once, he looked less like an irritating brother and more like the ancient being he claimed to be.

A rare improvement.

"You can read it?" the Crown Prince asked.

"Obviously."

He looked faintly amused. "The court scholars argued for three days over the first line."

"Your court scholars are underfunded, undereducated, or overconfident. Possibly all three."

A nearby scholar glanced over with visible offense.

Good.

If he heard me, the he had a chance to improve.

The Crown Prince’s lips twitched. "Then would Your Excellency be willing to share what it says?"

"No. Not willing."

The amusement vanished. And Abi laughed under his breath. Yeah, I know this guy couldn’t keep up his serious bearing before devolving back to his irritating self.

I straightened and turned to the prince with a pleasant smile. "At least, not here."

His eyes sharpened when he understood what I meant.

The words on this tablet were not something to casually discuss in a hall full of listening ears and ornamental intellects.

If the palace had truly misfiled this item, that was one matter. If someone had allowed the Crown Prince to find it, that was another. And if someone wanted me to see it, then this exhibition was not merely bait.

It was a stage.

And I disliked performing without knowing who owned the theater. I had to know who to go to for my compensation.

I wonder if they could afford my fees.

"May I ask why this particular tablet was included in today’s exhibition?" I said.

The Crown Prince’s expression became carefully neutral. "I requested it."

"Because?"

"Because the title mentioned the eastern campaigns."

"That is a poor answer."

"It is the public one."

I chuckled faintly. "Then Your Highness is learning quite well."

"From last night, perhaps."

"How concerning. I did not intend to become your tutor."

"Yet you gave advice freely, if I remember correctly."

"Oh, it was not for free. You paid me with entertainment."

Abi grinned. "And possibly old stones."

The Crown Prince glanced at him. "Lord Abinatha has an interest in history as well?"

Abi’s smile became strange. "Only when it refuses to stay buried." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

For a moment, something passed between the two of them. The Crown Prince did not know what Abi was. Not truly. He knew only what had been introduced publicly. That he was my sworn brother. An unknown person who suddenly became a Konstantin. A man who looked like he had walked out of a forbidden mural.

And yet, His Highness was not foolish.

He knew Abi was not ordinary. Anyone with a working brain could figure that out, I suppose.

Sadly, not everyone has a working brain.

The knight standing near the Crown Prince knew it too. His posture had not changed, but the slight strain in his aura told me everything.

He was ready to die protecting his master.

How admirable.

Futile, but admirable.

I suppose he takes after his master. Unnecessarily brave.

Then again, bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity.

I returned my attention to the tablet.

"Your Highness," I said softly, "who else knows you requested this item?"

His gaze flickered.

"One archivist. My personal aide. And the keeper of the lower vault."

"And?"

"My mother."

Ah, the empress. Of course.

A woman who was serene in public usually hid either great wisdom or excellent knives.

Sometimes both. Women were scary in that way.

"Does Her Majesty know why you requested it?"

"I told her I wished to understand the eastern territories before the coronation."

"Did she believe you?"

"I don’t know. She merely smiled."

So no.

Mothers were frightening creatures. I knew this well enough. Mine could discover a lie from across the continent, likely while drinking tea on a ship and scolding my father for encouraging her.

The empress knowing about the tablet’s presence complicated matters. It meant the Crown Prince’s interest in Sonomi had already been noticed within the highest circle of the palace.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

I had come here to see and enjoy old things and perhaps gather leverage. Instead, I was being drawn toward ancient, possibly unpleasant, implications wrapped in imperial family dynamics.

What was I?

A historian?

Well, yes.

But that was beside the point.

I turned away from the tablet before my curiosity could claw its way out of my chest and embarrass me in public. Gossip is a fearless creature. It needs to be tamed.

"Shall we continue the exhibition?" I asked.

The Crown Prince seemed to recognize that the topic had reached its temporary limit. "Of course."

He guided us through the hall, showing several artifacts from the founding era. Some were impressive, I must admit. The empire had some capital to boast of.

However, there were others that were replicas pretending not to be. One ceremonial dagger labeled as belonging to the first emperor was clearly made at least thirty years after his death. The metalwork betrayed it. But I did not mention it aloud.

I wasn’t being merciful or saving the imperial family’s face.

I simply wanted to see how many experts in the room would continue embarrassing themselves.

Abi noticed, naturally. "That knife is a fraud," he murmured.

"Yes. I am aware."

"Are you going to tell them?"

"No. I won’t trouble myself."

"Why not?"

"Because silence is sometimes more educational than a lecture."

"How cruel of you."

"Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment."

The Crown Prince, who heard us, looked at the dagger with renewed suspicion. "Is something wrong with it?"

"Many things are wrong with many things, Your Highness."

"That was not an answer."

"It wasn’t. You can take it as a life lesson."

His lips twitched again.

We moved farther into the hall, past displayed banners from early noble houses, fragments of old armor, and a series of treaty documents sealed beneath preservation glass.

There, at last, was the founding oath.

Or another version of it.

The document was displayed prominently in the center of the room, surrounded by subtle yet powerful warding arrays. Even the air around it seemed stiller.

The parchment itself had yellowed with age, though the preservation magic had protected it from decay. The imperial crest sat at the top, beside the crest of House Konstantin.

My family crest.

The sight of it stirred something unpleasantly warm in my chest.

Pride, perhaps.

How annoying.

I stepped closer.

The public version of the oath was well known. Sonomi would be acknowledged as part of the Yarina Empire in name. House Konstantin would hold the title of Grand Duke, second only to the imperial family. The empire would not interfere in the East’s internal affairs. In return, Sonomi would not raise its blades against Yarina unless Yarina first broke the pact.

It was simple, elegant, and mutually threatening.

A good contract.

But as I studied the document, I found the expected text only in the middle portion. The upper and lower lines were written in smaller script, the kind usually meant for ceremonial invocation rather than legal content.

Most people would ignore them.

But I knew better not to. I have to thank the Honorable Lady Konstantin for that.

My eyes moved slowly.

By sun and silence, by oath and blood, before the witness that sleeps beneath gold...