He tried to sleep in the carriage more than once without success.

And he had nearly asked the carriage to turn back to Penbrook just as many times.

By nightfall, the carriage finally reached Glenwood.

He was famished, and very in need of a good sleep.

But as soon as he stepped down from the carriage, the housekeeper and a few others rushed towards him, all of them speaking at the same time.

He held up his hand to silence them. Then he turned to his housekeeper.

"What exactly happened?"

She went on to narrate the whole story, bursting into sobs as she did.

He listened quietly, nodding when it was expected of him.

Four rogues had been killed.

None of his men were harmed.

But his old steward had been killed.

Nothing was taken. Nothing was damaged except the window of his study and a few evidences of a struggle.

But why his steward?

"Was he involved in combat with any of the Rogues?"

The woman shook her head.

"He raised the alarm and rushed to the room to write a letter to you. He even offered to give them gold, but their leader just..." She broke into more sobs, wiping her red nose with a knitted handkerchief.

"Very well." Was all he said.

He stripped off his coat. "Where’s the body? We have to burn it and put him to rest."

The housekeeper covered her mouth to conceal her sobs.

"Upstairs." One of his attendings said. "We have not moved him since he... passed."

"But Your Grace, word of this has begun to spread, the Rogue attack is bound to terrorize the people in the Capital since this occurred to the King himself."

Yeren had been thinking of the very thing all day. Everyone will begin to panic for their lives, unaware that this was the doing of some sinister being.

Perhaps that was what the person who controlled the Rogues wanted.

A public uproar. An unrest that would question his position as King.

"What do you suggest we do, Your Grace? People need a new topic of discussion to get their minds off this."

He ran a hand through his hair. The only thing he could think off was a party. Parties were all women talked about anyway.

"I should throw a ball then. That would divert the attention. Tell whoever asks that what they heard were just rumours. After all, I wouldn’t be throwing a ball when my steward just died, so it would be easier to believe that way."

His attendant nodded. "Should I send word to the council in the Capital?"

Yeren nodded.

"Send your fastest rider. It has to reach there before dawn on the morrow."

The man nodded and disappeared in the crowd of people.

The funeral arrangements were made in haste and were over with after a few words from him and the priest were said.

His steward had been a fine man.

Arian Grouth. He was a good friend of his father’s.

After the funeral, he left the servants to collect the ashes while he went up to his bedchamber. He paused at the stairway leading to the East tower for a few minutes.

Claire had stayed up there.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and went up to his bedroom. Being in his room was even worse.

All he could think of was that was the first place he had made love to her.

She had a way of invading his personal space and thoughts even when she was not even there.

He left his guards outside and called for a bath.

Having a ball was a good idea - it would distract all the gossipers, even though for a short time.

But he didn’t need much time, he just needed to piece his facts together.

Something had been taken the first time the study had been raided. And something had been taken again.

What exactly was the person after?

He had to read through all those letters himself to know what evidence someone was going through such pains to get rid off.

And more than anything, he hated the way the culprit was sliding under his nose the whole time.

What was he missing?

Dawn met him seated on his chair with a goblet of wine in his hands.

His throwing a ball in the middle of chaos would send his unknown enemy into confusion.

And the person was bound to attend the ball.

To see what he was planning.

But that was all wishful thinking, he thought.

What would Andon want him to do? He realized that he needed Andon now more than ever.

He could send for him to return, but he was well aware that the council and the whole court would protest the decision. Everyone would claim that he was disregarding the laws.

After all, the man was always to blame when a woman of status’s virtue was questioned.

How would he prove that nothing happened between them? There was no point, he decided.

He would figure everything out on his own.

And he would have to return to the castle as soon as possible to oversee the preparations for the ball.

That was when he finally allowed himself to think of her.

He wasn’t sure he wanted her to attend, but it would raise eyebrows if he didn’t invite the woman he had just awarded the land of her beloved Uncle.

But their relationship had already raised so many brows that he couldn’t care about adding one more raised brow to the tally.

Yeren got dressed and went to the study.

He was pouring over the scrolls in his father’s study till long past noon. He hadn’t bothered with breakfast or lunch.

Every time there was a knock on the door, he would glance up expectantly, half expecting Andon to walk through those doors.

But he never did.

Instead it was always servants bringing up one report or another.

Until one of them was the steward of one of his guards. Lady Stenly’s guard.

He glanced at the sky beyond the balcony and saw that it was late in the afternoon.

What news could he possibly bring?

"Your Grace, I have a letter for you." He said after sketching a graceful bow.

Yeren gestured for him to proceed with the letter.

The young man brought it to him.

It was folded and sealed.

Yeren gave him a cursory glance before he opened the letter and read through it.

His eyes darkened as he read through it.

"So, I was right all along."