The Prince in Question Is Not Stable

[Imbrium, the Capital of Lunar.]

[Penumbra. The Crown Palace.]

It was a fine morning, but for some reason, it felt eerie to Cassian.

The corridors of Penumbra were already awake before the sun had fully risen up.

No lamps burned along the walls. Instead, every intersection had been carved several feet into the black stone, creating deep recesses where controlled fires burned without smoke.

Their light reached only a short distance. Cassian walked through the darkness in heavy steps.

He wore a long black royal coat over a dark shirt, the gold insignia of the crown fixed beneath his collar.

Vega walked beside him. She was his second wife.

She carried a thin leather folder beneath one arm, wore a fitted charcoal gown whose simplicity stood out. Her dark chestnut hair had been arranged into a low know, with only two carefully placed strands falling beside her temples. A narrow gold chain rested against the base of her throat, which paired perfectly with her golden rimmed spectacles.

They had walked together for a long time without speaking to each other.

"Cymbal has started spending unusually," she said.

Cassian continued walking.

"Odd," she whispered.

His eyes shifted toward her for a moment.

At the next intersection of the corridor, Vega reached toward the recessed fire and touched the tip of a cigar against the flame before offering it to Cassian.

Cassian took it naturally.

"For how long?" he asked.

"Eleven days, funds have been pouring out from his treasure at a devastating rate, it’s as if he’s not even trying to hide the movement," she said.

He inhaled once, then removed the cigar from his mouth as smoke slowly escaped through his nose.

"Where?" he asked.

"Where precisely? I’m not so aware of that. But they’re being used by Krells," she said.

Cassian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"Krells? How much of it reached them?" he asked.

"All of it," she replied.

That made him stop, only for a moment.

The court ahead could already be heard beyond the next set of doors. Voices, the sound of pages turning, and the occasional scrapes of chair, which was unlikely of a mythical Palace of Lunar.

Cassian looked at Vega, and then passed her the cigar.

"I surely don’t think he’s preparing for any sort of personal campaign for his entertainment," she scoffed, and smoked the same cigar.

"That’s concerning," he tilted his head, and took back the cigar from her.

"I was hoping you’d say that, after all, it was your choice not to help the Krells when they were collapsing from within," she said with a teasing smile.

"Marcus was involved with them," he said. "And he did handle them with care."

"But now he’s not, and you know what Krells would demand if it comes to war," She replied.

"You shouldn’t worry about Cymbal," she said. "We...shouldn’t worry about Cymbal."

"If Krells come after what I really fear they will...then Ymir will no longer sit in his palace,"

Cassian nodded at her words, and passed her the cigar back.

He then began moving forward, entering the Royal Court without breaking his stride.

The chamber beyond was far brighter than the corridors.

Tall windows occupied most of the eastern wall, allowing the early morning light to fall across the long table.

Strategists stood behind their chairs with reports held against their chests. Military officials had their documents arranged in front of them, some of the pages were already marked with ink, they lowered their voices as Cassian entered and few of them glanced toward Vega as she passed while puffing the cigar.

Documents had been arranged in small stack before each seat, several clerks stood against the walls with fresh reports in their hands.

At the far end of the chamber stood the royal throne. Behind it was a towering structure of crescent moon made of complete diamonds.

The structure alone was worth the mythical palaces. It brightened the reflected lights, illuminating the whole court.

But Cassian never approached the throne.

The queen was alive. And her isolation was nearing end.

Staying away from the throne was Cassian’s way of remembering that he wasn’t the King yet. His mother was still alive, and the real ruler of the Kingdom.

His chair stood several feet away, below the throne.

The Regent’s seat. Vega stopped beside the table and leaned over Cassian’s seat’s armrest.

Several reports had been arranged in front of Cassian before his arrivel. She glanced over them carefully, while Cassian took the seat.

No one interrupted her while she leaned forward and observed the documents.

She wasn’t just the Princess of Lunar, and Second wife of Cassian. She was a genius strategist, someone who Cassian listened to and took advice from.

All of Cassian’s wives remove themselves from attending banquets. Instead, they excel in some finest aspects of their own.

She flicked the cigar to her side, and leaned back, and gave him a nod.

"Begin," Cassian said.

"My Prince," The first minister rose.

"Two western dukedoms have requested additional funds for their counties following recent flooding, and Giovanni is in dire need of funds since they’re starting from the ground-up-----"

Cassian listened to the matters that were ordinary.

Supplies, roads, funds, taxes, disputes of major merchant houses, and so on.

Sometimes he approved. Sometimes Vega whispered advices in Cassian’s ear and he followed, sometimes he rejected, sometimes he simply told the clerk to record the matter for later review.

The machine continued until the military strategist seated nearest the eastern windows placed both hands over a closed folder.

His fingers remained there for a moment, then he looked at Vega, a silent permission requesting him to speak.

She nodded.

"Your Highness," The strategist spoke.

Cassian’s eyes moved toward him.

"Go on."

"Calliope County in the south needs a certain kind of attention," he said.

"There have been more than thirty disappearances over the past days. All women, unmarried and widowed. There were no ransoms, no bodies, and no confirmed witnesses. Human trafficking could’ve have been an issue but there was an expedition issued for the Academy of Lunar, and it’s already underway," the strategist spoke.

"The wanderers of Royal Guards think it might not be something those children as capable of yet. Two of our wanderers are near the settlement, and they’re requesting permission to interfere in the expedition," he said.

"They’re my men, Your Highness, and they have deep compassion, conscience, and intelligence."

Cassian took the cigar from Vega and rested it between his fingers.

"The cadets...you mean those children are investigating these disappearances? Who approved of such inhumane expedition?" Cassian asked.

Cassian glanced at Vega, and she nodded, it was weird. Expeditions usually are some mere hunts for beasts that are not considered a major threat. But cases like these are best handled by experts.

"...Uh, that...Professor Marcus Rile," the strategist spoke.

The room went quiet for a moment.

Cassian did not react immediately.

He simply rolled the cigar between his fingers, watching the thin thread of smoke. The cigar was about to die.

"Marcus Rile," he repeated.

"He approved of four three four cadets to investigate thirty disappearances?"

"Why?"

The matter was concerning.

"He also approved the expedition of mysterious Monk deaths throughout the Kingdom," The strategist added.

"And both of these expeditions are in complete opposite direction. One in the north, other in the south," he said.

Cassian lifted his eyes.

’He’s onto something,’ Cassian thought.

Marcus Rile had been a wandering strategist, and now the former leader of faction since Cassian dethroned him. He couldn’t keep a transcendent under him, that would be insult to Marcus’s warrior title.

But Cassian knew that whenever Marcus moved oddly, something far more dangerous was always brewing.

"Approve your wanderers and make sure they prioritize protection of children leading expedition," Cassian said.

"Yes, Your Highness," The strategist bowed, and Vega did not interfere with that decision.

She herself studied the way Marcus Rile moved while overthrowing the Krells from inside, and stopping the rebellion.

But now it seemed as if the civil war among the princes was inevitable.