Return of the General's Daughter

In the days that followed, Lara found herself consumed by work alongside Gideon and Matthias, laboring tirelessly on producing and selling the Iron Horse.

The clang of metal and the hiss of steam filled the workshops from dawn till nightfall. Though they hired additional workers, the complexity of the machine and the relentless pressure of deadlines meant they managed to release fewer than fifty units—far short of what they had hoped.

Eventually, Matthias, worn down by the limitations of their resources, was left with no choice but to seek an alliance with Prince Reuben’s camp as per Lara and Peredur’s advice. It was an uneasy partnership: Matthias contributed the technical genius and hard-won schematics, while Reuben provided what they so desperately lacked—the vast factory, skilled laborers, and raw materials to bring the Iron Horse to life at scale.

Prince Alaric was uncomfortable, but since it was mostly Gideon, Matthias, and Peredur who dealt with Prince Reuben’s camp, his discomfort vanished. For Lara, the arrangement was bittersweet. She did not want the crown prince to benefit from their inventions, but her capability and wealth were limited at the moment. She could not deny the satisfaction as the coffers grew heavier with each passing week.

Then, at last, the day came when Prince Alaric was to begin his exile to the south arrived.

Before dawn on the first Saturday of February, Alaric rode out of the capital. A handful of loyal guards who had stood by him since their time in Ourea flanked him in solemn formation. The streets were silent, cloaked in shadow; not a soul stirred as they made their way toward the southern gate escorted by the royal guards. The capital still slept, unaware—or perhaps indifferent—to the prince’s quiet departure.

Lara, dressed in a man’s riding coat and boots, had slipped unnoticed from the Norse manor, determined to accompany Alaric and his men as far as the gates. The chill of the morning bit through the fabric of her disguise, but she paid it no mind.

"Lara," said Agilus, his horse keeping pace beside Alaric’s. His voice was low, tinged with surprise. "I thought you would be returning with us to Calma."

"It’s not time yet," Lara replied, her tone steady though her heart felt sad. There were still too many loose threads, too many promises unfulfilled. What she had once thought would be a stay of mere weeks now threatened to stretch into months.