I never imagined someone was watching me. Since when, exactly?

According to Viktor, he’d felt those unpleasant eyes on him ever since the royal palace. At first he chalked it up to ordinary noble curiosity—just people sneaking glances at the famous Gale Knights commander—but the gaze had clung to him like a shadow, relentless.

"Maybe it’s because I lived in seclusion for so long, but I’m sensitive to that kind of thing."

"That’s a useful talent. Think you can catch them?"

"Hard to say. It won’t be easy, but I’ll try."

Viktor took a small group of knights and disappeared down a back alley. I had no idea why the Grand Duke’s Guard was watching me, but the fact that their eyes hadn’t lifted made it clear enough that I was their target.

If the Grand Duke’s Guard was on the move, that meant the Grand Duke himself had taken notice of me. Had something I’d done put him on edge? Just knowing I was being watched was enough to set off every alarm in my head.

Why now, of all times, was the Grand Duke watching me?

Or maybe those eyes had been on me for far longer than I realized. Viktor only noticed because they’d slipped up, and thanks to that, I knew the watchers existed at all. A foul, prickling feeling rose in my chest.

Viktor had taken his men to ambush them, so I expected to see those bastards’ faces with my own eyes. But the long and short of it was, he failed. The watchers vanished before Viktor could close in.

That meant there had to be other watchers besides those ones. Someone must have signaled them, allowing them to slip through the maze of alleys with perfect timing, just before Viktor and his men closed the net.

"It looks like there were other watchers. They slipped away before we could pounce. Sneaky little rats."

I couldn’t tell him they were the Grand Duke’s Guard. From a normal person’s perspective, how could I name them when I supposedly didn’t even know they existed? But this whole incident had taught me one thing: I was being watched.

So I pulled every single soldier on standby at Knights headquarters and tightened security around me. Outside the royal palace gates, I had every legal right to march armed men through Breisburg.

I expanded the unit from thirty-three to fifty-five.

The remaining twenty-two were standing by in Feuzen under August’s command. I also sent a messenger to Feuzen to fetch Bodo. If I wanted help from the friends at the bottom of the heap, I needed Bodo.

Fiel, who had returned to his family estate, came back the next day. One look at his haggard, drained face and I had to ask. He gave a wry, slightly embarrassed smile.

"My wife wouldn’t let me go."

"Ah, well, that’s how it is. From now on, you commute."

"She already gave me an earful about how I could be so neglectful of my own household."

It was my fault for not sending a married man home sooner. Fiel’s wife was Elisabeth, one of Hilda’s friends and someone I’d met before. As the daughter of Viscount Loewenbert, she was quite the formidable woman.

"Sir Steinhof, treat your wife well. The person who’s always at your side, the one you take for granted—when she’s gone, you don’t realize how brutal the loss is until it’s too late."

"...I’ll bear that in mind. And what of your wife, Vice Commander?"

"Dead. Took ill while I was away on campaign and never recovered."

Viktor washed it down with a swallow of bitter beer. Ever since Rosengarden became the unit’s temporary lodging, beer consumption there had skyrocketed. Viktor had a particular taste for beer heavy with the bitter scent of hops.

Maybe that bitterness on his tongue was the closest thing he had to the bitter ache he carried inside.

When the mood grew heavy, Fiel quietly let me know that the Steinhof family was also looking into the rumors.

I didn’t know how much intelligence reach a swordsmanship dynasty had, but a friend with sharp ears could sometimes turn up information you’d never expect. At noon, I headed for Beien Boulevard.

Just as Eisenach had told me, the crown prince and his party were out incognito. To avoid drawing attention myself, I wore the old tunic and surcoat I used to wear back in the day. Comparing them to what I wore now, I had no idea how I’d ever managed in those clothes.

"Do you go for walks like this often, Your Highness?"

"If you don’t know what life is like at the bottom, you end up just a bird in a gilded cage."

"Not bad. You’ve changed since the war."

"I’d like to think it’s been a change for the better."

The crown prince grinned and offered me one of those plain pretzels they sold on the street. Vermeer had already tasted it, so there was no concern about safety. Hmm—the same heavily salted pretzel I remembered from before.

"Truth is, this really is just a walk. I needed to clear my head."

The crown prince’s mood seemed different from the last time I’d seen him. Since Eisenach was running the incognito detail, I’d brought only Fiel along to avoid getting in the way. Vermeer’s gaze, though, was bothering me.

"How have you been, Sir Vermeer?"

"Well, thank you. Is Lady Hilda doing well?"

"She’s settling in just fine in Feuzen. Manages it better than I do, frankly. I think I could leave the whole thing in her hands."

"That sounds like her. I miss her sometimes."

There was something oddly stiff about him.

The moment I checked Vermeer’s disposition, I understood why his attitude had shifted. Last I remembered, his disposition read loyalty (good). Now it read loyalty (neutral).

Through Winter, I’d learned that, while rare, certain triggers could shift a person’s disposition. So what had changed Vermeer? Whatever it was, the influence had clearly been negative enough to push him from Good to Neutral.

It was hard to predict what kind of complications this change in him might bring.

"Fiel, I’ve heard you’ve been making a name for yourself as Vice Commander of the Gale Knights. Was the reason you turned down my offer simply so you could serve under Sir Streit?"

"My deepest apologies, Your Highness."

"It’s water under the bridge. What’s there to apologize for? Just know that it stung a little."

The crown prince smiled mischievously, and Fiel was thrown into a fluster.

So how was I supposed to bring up what I’d come for? I needed to steer the conversation toward the queen naturally. The crown prince started in with all the little things he’d been wondering about lately.

"How does it feel, being Lord of Feuzen?"

"I was overjoyed when I first took possession of the village, but I quickly ran into its limits."

"The limits of a small village, you mean? Right, it’s an awkward position. Hard to call yourself a prince when you’re lord of a place that small."

The grand title of "Ruler of Feuzen" was, frankly, like calling some kid the king of a back alley. To landless nobles it might still feel like a slap in the face, but compared to actual princes, it really didn’t measure up.

The crown prince asked me about all sorts of things: life in Feuzen, how Hilda was doing, how I’d uncovered the embezzlement scheme. I answered each question sincerely, watching for an opening, and finally turned a question back on him.

"And how have you been faring lately, Your Highness?"

"I’ve been feeling it for some time, but Mother seems to be meddling more and more."

"Lord Franz, that’s a sensitive subject."

"What does it matter? This isn’t just anyone—it’s Sir Streit."

The exact topic I’d wanted to hear came tumbling out. The crown prince started venting about the queen. He’d already disliked how she involved herself in every detail of his life, and lately it had only gotten worse.

"Slipping out for a walk under the guise of going incognito has become a hobby of mine."

"I’m afraid I can’t offer much advice. I know nothing about Her Majesty the Queen."

"Ah, right. You wouldn’t know my mother."

The only time I’d seen her was at the war council banquet after the war ended. Things had been such a whirlwind back then that I hadn’t really paid attention to the queen, and I never imagined the connections would lead here.

"I’ve met Prince Louis and Princess Evangeline, but never Her Majesty."

"You’ve met Louis? He never said a word to me about it."

"Just briefly, with Hilda, before we left for Feuzen."

"I see. Well, ever since his health turned, he’s developed a real admiration for knights."

The crown prince seemed to feel sorry for his younger brother. But based on what I’d gleaned through the Scouter, Prince Louis didn’t harbor warm feelings toward the crown prince at all.

Lies become truth, and truth becomes lies.

It was something Louis had once quoted to me from the Gospel of Saint Mark.

At the time I’d wondered why he was telling me that, but only now did I think I understood.

"Mother has been wanting to meet you for a while, but the schedules never aligned."

"If it’s not an imposition, I’d very much like to be presented to Her Majesty."

"You mean it? I should warn you, she might catch you off guard with strange questions."

Was anything stranger than what I already knew? The crown prince promised to ask the queen and try to arrange something. The conversation had flowed naturally enough that I was satisfied.

"Oh, by the way, did you hear Leo has a fiancée?"

"Sir Vermeer? No, I had no idea."

"Lord Franz, that hasn’t been made public yet..."

Vermeer’s face crumpled in awkward distress. But the crown prince found his reaction so amusing that he leaned in and told me everything, like a delighted little boy itching to spill a great secret.

"You’ll never guess. It’s the daughter of House Mainhof."

Mainhof. Wasn’t that the court noble Klugen had killed?

For the crown prince to call it surprising, the match really was unexpected.

What’s more, that young lady had been quite taken with the crown prince himself—so much so that I remembered him keeping Hilda seated next to him as a sort of shield. Hilda had gotten irritated because she’d wanted to be with me, and the crown prince kept getting pulled away.

And now that very same young lady was engaged to, of all people, Vermeer.

You really couldn’t predict a thing when it came to matters of the heart.

"She was the only direct heir of House Mainhof, but as an only daughter, the family had no choice but to take in a son-in-law."

"There must have been a line of suitors, then. Or men trying to pressure her into a match."

"Exactly. And in the middle of all that, the one she came to lean on was Vermeer."

Given Vermeer’s nature, he couldn’t bring himself to turn his back on the young lady, and apparently, while helping her, the two ended up falling for each other.