Marcus opened his eyes and finally sat up. A wave of pain rushed over his body, causing him to yell out in pain. Two guards ran in, and seeing their commander awake, they smiled and slammed their fists on their chest. "Good afternoon, Commander."

Marcus grabbed his head, a raging headache making him unable to focus. "Get me some food and drink. Please." The soldiers nodded and quickly left the tent, leaving Marcus alone. Looking down at his body, he saw the vast amount of wounds his body had treated. He rubbed his hand over his cheek and felt the stitching under his finger, followed by a stinging pain.

Getting up, he grabbed his sword and looked at himself in the mirror. ’It’s going to be a big scar.’ Adam walked in and saw Marcus smiling at himself. Throwing the pouch of water, he was holding at Marcus; he took a seat.

"The doctors said it will heal in time. Just don’t be stupid when eating. And no shouting. You’ll tear it open." Marcus nodded and downed the pouch’s contents.

Wiping his mouth, he looked at Adam and made himself comfortable. "How long was I out?"

"One and half days."

"And the battle?" Adam looked at Marcus but could see he was genuinely confused about who had won.

"You can’t remember." Adam burst into laughter, annoying Marcus. "I’m sitting here, and you still have your sword. Take a guess?" Marcus waved his hand at Adam, making the man laugh harder.

"Enough already. Fuck my head is killing me." Adam could tell Marcus wasn’t actually annoyed at him, just embarrassed. The two looked at each other silently, and Adam lowered his eyes.

"You messed up, Commander." With a grave tone, all Marcus could do was take a deep breath.

"I know."

"You should have called the retreat when Arek didn’t arrive."

"I know."

"You got lucky."

"I know," Marcus said sternly the final time and sighed. "I couldn’t, though, Adam. After a while, if I retreated, it would have cost me my life."

"Commander," Adam said, looking at Marcus seriously. "You are too important to die. Me, our brothers in your legion. All of us wish for you to take General Flanders’s place. But you can’t do that dead."

"It was perfect, Adam. If that fucking idiot Arek had arrived on time, it would have been perfect."

"But he didn’t, and you didn’t adapt. That’s not like you."

"I know." Marcus sighed and fell onto his bed. "I just kept thinking, one more minute. He will come soon. Each time, it nearly killed me. After a while, I just lost my mind, I think. I was so invested in that battle I didn’t care any more."

"I know," Adam chuckled. "I saw your performance from the wall. Had them shitting themselves."

"Thank you, Adam." He said, full of sincerity, "You saved my life and, quite frankly, the entire battle. I won’t punish you for disobeying my order, but don’t expect a reward."

Adam smiled and shook his head. "I just did my job." Marcus smiled, and in the next few seconds, a few soldiers came in carrying a plate of food and a jug of water.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Horace watched the Piast manor for a while, waiting for the perfect time to slip in. He analysed the guards, and seeing them look up at the sky and get ready to leave, he knew it was the perfect time. Getting out of the carriage, he ran over to the gates, carrying a small bag, trying to look as pitiful as possible.

The guards saw Horace and groaned in annoyance. Lowering his head, he tried to hide his face from them as much as he could and took out a small ornament. It tried its best to look high quality, but to other trained eyes, it obviously used poor quality materials and a minimal amount of precious ones. On it was the sigil of a broken spear with a flag gaining from it. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

"Kamila Cetner." The guards squinted a little at Horace’s fake voice but said nothing. If they did, it would insult a noble family, and the idea that it was a man seemed foolish. One took the ornament and looked it over, recognising the Center family sigil. Nodding to his colleague, he handed it back, and the two hurried off, ready to switch shifts.

Horace sighed in relief. The first and hardest step was done. His plan would be over before it began if he failed to get in. Walking into the manor, he looked around and remembered it. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Horace thought of the layout he remembered and moved to the laundry room. Watching the maids around, he subtly changed his posture to match them more.

It was hard to walk at first, but Horace quickly got used to it, not allowing anyone to see his struggle. Opening the door to the laundry room, he sneakily grabbed a couple of clean sheets and was ready to leave before being noticed, but was stopped by the door opening soon after.

The maids looked at him strangely for a couple of seconds. "Are you new?" Horace didn’t panic. He meekly nodded, again lowering his head, pretending he couldn’t make eye contact.

"This won’t do, " one of them said playfully and moved forward. Grabbing Horace’s cheeks, she forcefully raised his head and made him look her in the eyes. Taking hold of his shoulders, she froze for a second, thinking they felt a little wide. Horace just put on a fake smile and looked at her, wondering why she had stopped.

"Never mind." The maid put away the strange thoughts and played around with his arms until Horace had a new posture. "Always look up, never lower your head unless in the presence of His Grace, the Lady and Young Masters."

"Thank you." Horace smiled and walked off, the maids looking at his back strangely.

"Did she seem a bit...." The maid didn’t finish the sentence, but the other agreed.

"Yeah. It was a little weird." The third nodded in agreement as they all returned to work, not daring to waste any more time.

Horace sighed in relief as he carefully felt his sleeve with his finger. Had the maid tried to grab his lower arm, she would have instantly found the daggers he was carrying. Scaling the steps, Horace smiled politely at anyone who walked past without slowing his pace.

His mind had already decided on who to find, and when he reached the top floor, his eyes darted across the halls. Guards stood outside Paist’s office, showing that the man was in. Looking the other way, he saw two in the master bedroom.

Walking over, the guards stopped Horace with cold eyes. "Fresh sheets have already been brought." The guard said suspiciously. Horace fought the urge to click his tongue. His mind spun at an insane pace to find an answer. He needed entry into the room and couldn’t make an excuse that would send him away.

’All I can do is gamble.’ Horace said to himself and looked the man in the eyes. "The lady had requested more to come. I don’t know why." Horace said with slight pity, and the guards looked at one another. They knew what had happened to Lena those years ago, and whilst she had mostly returned to her old self, sometimes she would act strange.

Horace prayed his work those years ago still had an effect, or it would mean he would die. One of the guards clicked his tongue and opened the door for Horace. Giving him a smile, Horace walked in and saw the woman he had held hostage before. She had gotten thinner, and she obviously spent less time working on her appearance than before.

The guards closed the door behind Horace, and putting the sheets on a nearby chair, he walked over to Lena. Looking down at her with a friendly smile, the woman looked up in confusion.

"Can I help you?" Despite her confident demeanour, Horace could hear the slight shaking in her voice.

"Hello, Lena." Horace took off his wig and spoke in his normal voice. The woman’s eyes opened wide in shock as her breathing got quicker. Horace couldn’t tell if she was about to scream and leaned forward. Grabbing her cheek, he smiled. "I said I would be back. So..." He paused and leaned closer to her ear. His smile vanished, and with a cold voice, he quietly whispered. "Have you been good whilst I was gone?"

He could feel her freeze up from the single sentence, and pulling back, he smiled at her. "Tell the guards I will be staying with you for a while. And don’t think of saying anything else." Horace grabbed the wig and put it back on before laying next to her on the bed.

Lena took a minute to regain her confidence and got up. Horace knew it would be easy to hold a knife at her back and follow her to the door to make sure she said what was needed, but he needed to test her. He had to know if his work on her was effective.

Opening the door, Lena took a final glance at Horace. Her hands shook out of sight of the guards. "She will be staying with me for a while." The guards looked at one another but didn’t say anything. They nodded as the door closed on them again.

Horace sat up and smiled at her. Getting up, he walked to the small bookshelf and looked at it. His eyes lit up when he saw one, and he pulled it out; he walked over to Lena and handed it to her. "Shall we read?" Lena recognised the cover as the book he had given her during her time as a hostage. She meekly nodded. Horace made sure to sit beside her, one of his hands always pointing towards her throat.