The next day passed by quietly. Edmund’s men had calmed down, having spent day and night enjoying themselves. Their stay was brief, but the few days they could walk, talk, and address the princes without trying to break their backs bowing repeatedly were a relief. Alas, their trip had come to its end, and the time to return to their kingdom had arrived.

  On their last day, the soldiers were packing their belongings and tidying up their rooms. Filandra was helping them pack up, as usual, starting with the princes and the two Alvarynn. Meanwhile, Edmund and Aristide were discussing what to tell their father first once they’d returned. The younger prince suggested they start from the beginning and explain the factors they’d considered that led them to accept Count Nicolas’s proposal.

  Edmund agreed without debate. He too wanted to share with their father everything they’d experienced here. However, the matter of helping Noel and his brothers retrieve a family heirloom from bandits that were turned into undead monsters was something they decided to set aside. Serena and Leif were quiet, careful not to reveal anything about Noel.

  That was when Aristide remembered that he didn’t find the shop Serena told him had an antique bearing House Rohan’s heraldry. The prince was upset but he just shrugged it off as bad luck. The men eventually finished packing and they all headed downstairs. Gualter thanked the inn’s staff for their “warm” services. The inn staff asked them to stop by anytime.

  “Like hell we will.” Gualter murmured.

  Outside, the men were loading their belongings when a familiar face arrived. Paul had come, having been told this was their last day in town. “Ah, it saddens me that you will be leaving so soon.”

  Edmund gave the same story. The snow was about to fall, and they didn’t want to be stuck in town for the next three to four months. Traveling merchants, after all, had to keep moving to make a living. They didn’t have the luxury of staying in one place too long.

  “Thank you for the tours, Paul,” Aristide said. “They were very… informative.”

  “It was a pleasure, and I hope to see you again one day,” Paul responded.

  “Yes… we also hope to… see you again,” Aristide replied.

  “I’m certain by the time you return, things will be very different,” Paul said.

  “How so?” Edmund asked.

  Paul’s gaze lifted at the sky. “I can feel it, as if the Twins were whispering to my ears. Our savior, the one who will take us out of this impoverished state,” he spoke, his tone almost reverent. “The true inheritor of Beldomagne’s legacy will come soon.”

  “Savior?” Edmund echoed.

  Before Paul could speak more, Damien called from behind. “We’re ready to move.”

  Edmund glanced past his shoulder. “Looks like we’re leaving.”

  “Safe travels to you all,” Paul said. “May the Twins bless you.”

  The princes bid him farewell and boarded their wagons. Paul stood there, remaining in place until they were on the road, and only then did he leave. The group wheeled out of town and passed through the gates without problem. Edmund looked back, watching as the city walls and the roofs of the town vanished from sight. “It felt longer than five days.”

  “We definitely saw a lot in that time,” Aristide responded. “I don’t know if I should feel relieved, or more tense, after finally hearing from those people what they think of us.”

  “Let’s set that aside for now,” Damien said. “Lean back and relax, you’ve earned it.”

  And so the princes did, electing not to speak of Danuville’s opinion about Aurelith and its royal family. There would be a time for that.

  Four days into the journey, and they had finally crossed the border. That made them feel at ease, traveling on their own soil, not worrying someone would throw rocks at them should anyone recognize the princes. They spent a day riding into their kingdom’s territory, and late afternoon on that fourth day, they stopped at a clearing near a village. The men were all too aware of what happened the last time they stopped at an unpopulated area. As always, they set up camp by the roadside.

  While the rest of the soldiers fixed their tents, Filandra prepared their meal along with Leif and Aristide, who had somehow found a liking for cooking. The smell of simmering broth drifted through the cold air, thin and comforting. Edmund went for a walk. He stopped some small distance from the village perimeter, staring at the sunset as it bled orange into bruised purple. Serena approached and joined him in watching it.

  “Still thinking about Danuville?” she asked.

  Edmund nodded and went on to explain how he lamented the state’s situation, and his desire to help them. “But they’ll always hate us,” he said. “I don’t know how I can change that.”

  Serena was quiet for a while, listening as he spoke. She recalled how he bonded with the townspeople all the while. The children, the adults, the men loitering outside… they all spoke with him, told their stories, mundane things like missing teeth. It was then she finally shared her thoughts.

  “They don’t hate you, Prince,” she said. “They actually liked you.”

  “They liked Edward,” Edmund responded. “If they find out who I am—”

  “Maybe they don’t have to,” Serena said. “Maybe you can stay as Edward, forever. Maybe… you don’t have to be the prince to help them. If they hate you… because… you were born to a name you didn’t choose… maybe they will like you… with a name you choose for yourself.”

  Edmund stared at her a heartbeat longer. He wasn’t prepared to hear Serena say something like that. Inside the palace, in front of other nobles, that would have been egregious—unthinkable. She had just suggested that he change his name, the crown prince to an entire kingdom, just to help mere commoners. But since he was Edmund, he only gave her a slight chuckle and even found her suggestion interesting.

  “If only it’s that simple,” he told her. “Imagine us walking back to town with a baggage train full of grain and they would all be like, ‘how did Edward buy all that?’”.

  Serena smiled and tilted her head, the fading light catching the edge of her hair. “Maybe it isn’t simple,” she said softly, “but… when you become king—”

  Before Serena could say anything more, they were interrupted by a noise. It came from the village.

  No one else seemed to notice. The two stepped closer, boots crunching over frost-stiff grass, listening. It came again, like something scraping from inside a home. It was only when they looked closer that they noticed something strange with the village: it was empty. Even as the sun set, there should have been villagers outside. Checking fire logs, gossiping, tending animals, calling children in before dark.

  Reluctantly, they entered the village, calling out, waiting for a response. Yet there was no one. There was no sound, save for that scraping noise, louder now, followed by a dull thump, wood shifting, something dragging itself.

  Then they heard noise again, but this time it came from the clearing behind them.

  They turned and saw the camp was surrounded by monsters. Gargoyles, quadruped and snakelike, each possessing a singular feature across them—a wolf’s head. Their eyes glinted in the dusk, and their breath steamed as they prowled in a tightening ring.

  Edmund’s brows knit. “The Draemhyr’s spawn?!”

  They’d only taken a step forward when, from behind, a house exploded, a large silhouette bursting outward. A grotesque monster. A hulking, horned undead with a skull-like face and glowing red eyes, its torso stretched over rotting muscle and exposed ribs. One arm was grotesquely overdeveloped, thick with sinew, while the other was withered down to almost nothing but bone. Long claws, digitigrade legs, and a spined tail sharpened its predatory silhouette, with ragged strips of flesh hanging as it lurched forward, scattering splinters across the street.

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  Edmund’s face hardened. “Get away, Serena!”

  Before Serena could say anything, Edmund rushed toward the monster. Without a second thought, he fired a lightning bolt at it. The crack of thunder snapped through the village, but it only pushed the creature back a little. The monster regained its footing, shaking off the impact like it had merely been slapped. It surged toward him and swiped with incredible speed. Edmund leapt out of the way, but the monster reacted fast. It grabbed a barrel and hurled it at him.

  The prince had just landed on his feet when he saw it flying toward his face. He swiped his sword upward, cutting the object in half inches away from him. Stale ale and broken staves exploded past his shoulders. But that distraction was enough. The monster was fast. It reached him before he could reset his stance, sending its rotting fist upward. It struck Edmund’s side, stealing his breath. The monster didn’t stop. It struck him again while he was in the air, sending him crashing into a pile of crates with a brutal splintering crack. It walked toward him, then stopped as Serena fired an ether blast into its back.

  The blast would send any creature screeching in pain or rage, but not this one. Unfazed, it turned and took steps toward her, only to stop. Its red eyes flickered. It tilted its head, letting out a low growl while it studied her. Serena kept her arms leveled, hands glowing, the cold air biting at her wrists. It was only for an instant. The monster’s breathing became faster, more shallow. It shook its head and growled before charging toward her.

  Serena fired another blast, only for the grotesque giant to swat it aside with its colossal arm. It sent its other, withered fist down at her, but Serena rolled out of the way, came up fast, and fired a continuous blast this time. The veins on her arms glowed faint, she was drawing more power than she should to keep the monster at bay. When she stopped, the creature still stood. Its arm was burned, but no more than that. It growled again and lumbered toward her when a lightning bolt struck it from the side. That pushed it back, even if only slightly, gouging the ground beneath its feet.

  The lightning strike had only dissipated for half a second when Edmund came charging, running as though he didn’t have broken bones. He leapt and sliced across the monster from shoulder down to waist with his sword crackling with energy, the force strong enough to send it crashing into a house. The prince didn’t stop and charged. While down, the monster grabbed a wooden pole and swiped, hitting Edmund on his side once again. The sound was wet, bone and breath knocked out together.

  It shoved him out of the way, and just as it stood, Serena fired an etheric lance at its head. It lodged on the bare skull. The undead simply grabbed it, crushed the lance in its palms, and dispersed it like dust. Serena tried again, firing one after another. Still, it did nothing. The monster swiftly grabbed a broken wagon and tried to throw it at her when something wrapped around its arm, yanking hard enough to spoil the throw. The ruined cart slammed down instead of flying.

  Leif had managed to slip past through the spawn army and rushed to their aid. He wrapped his whip around a wooden beam and hurled it at the monster. That, of course, simply annoyed the creature more than it did real damage, but it was enough. Leif got its attention, giving Serena time to duck behind a wall and catch her breath. She pressed her fist to her chest, trying to calm herself. Behind her, she heard Edmund shout and the faint sound of thunder. The prince was up again and fighting.

  “The king,” she breathed, “asked me… to protect… the prince.”

  “I… should be the one… out there and—”

  Reach forth…

  Serena’s breath hitched.

  There it was again. That same whisper, from the same figure she had thought she had left behind in her dreams.

  Drink deeper…

  She looked back. Edmund was slowing down, exhausted. The monster hit him again in the midsection, breath leaving his lungs, sending him flying toward a house. It started walking toward him, but Leif struck it with his vine whip. It was useless. He wrapped it around the monster’s arm instead and tried to stop it from advancing. The rotting giant simply pulled and flung him.

  Damien came, having fought his way through the spawn, and landed his blade on the creature’s shoulder. It barely cut. The monster swayed wildly, flinging the knight off its back. More of Edmund’s men came rushing to his aid, but the monsters gave chase. Some stayed behind to hold them off while keeping Aristide and Filandra safe behind their line. Lyam and Elias drew arrows and fired at the giant. Gualter hurled a javelin. Damien kept landing cuts while it was distracted.

  Their efforts didn’t bring it down, but they kept it occupied long enough for Leif to run to the prince and help him up.

  “The prince…” Serena whispered to herself. “I have… to help—”

  Get up…

  The whispers returned.

  Save him…

  Serena did. She stood up, still breathing hard, arms lowered. Her gaze locked on the creature, watching as it swatted at the men, shrugging off steel like it was rain. She took steps forward, drawing more from within herself, then stopped.

  She remembered the day she and the king were attacked at the lodge. That time, she jumped in front of Tristan to fend off the monsters going after him. The next thing she knew, she was in the palace, Edmund was somewhere far, engaged in combat with Tristan while possessed by Varhathor. She used more power than she should and fell unconscious for days.

  “If that happens now…”

  Go on… the whispers resumed.

  Summon your full—

  “No!” Serena shouted, shaking her head. “I won’t listen to you!”

  Serena stopped drawing and tried to control her breathing, forcing air in through her nose, out through her mouth until the tremble in her hands eased. “If I fall here, I’ll just be in his way! And… I won’t be able to protect him!”

  She remained in place, waiting, watching. The soldiers were struggling, but she couldn’t risk becoming a burden. Once the glow on her neck and arms began to fade, she moved and joined the fight. She didn’t fire blindly this time. She unleashed small blasts, firing just enough to get the monster’s attention before another man landed a hit. Her blasts were smaller, faster, more consistent, timed between breaths, between heartbeats.

  Leif had tried his best to heal the prince. He wasn’t adept with it, Edmund could still feel his ribs burning as he moved. Despite that, he stood, ignoring the pain. From his spot, Edmund fired a lightning bolt, aiming at the creature’s nape this time. It struck, and the monster nearly fell to its knees. The undead faltered as it began taking greater damage. Edmund’s men didn’t stop. With the spawn army thinning, more of his men arrived, hurling javelins and arrows at the giant.

  Serena formed another lance, hurled it at the monster, and to her astonishment, landed it on its left eye. That sent it screaming in fury, running and swiping wildly as it attempted to tear it out. While distracted, Damien came from behind and cut off one of its arms. He tried to go for the other, but the monster grabbed its fallen limb and swiped it at the knight. Damien had just enough time to block it with his sword before he was thrown to the ground.

  Edmund charged at it next, landing cuts on its arms and torso. He was pushing himself to the limit, moving faster with each strike. Worn down by his men, the undead could no longer keep up. The prince came charging with another strike when it blindly swiped below him, hitting him in the leg. He fell on the ground, and the monster tried to send its fist down on him. Serena fired at it, causing it to halt.

  That opening was all the prince needed. Without wasting another second, he got up and lunged, blade aimed at the creature’s neck. The sword connected, and the bare skull was cleanly cleaved off its body. The head landed in front of Damien, and the knight planted his sword through it, watching as the red glow in its eye dimmed and disappeared completely. Meanwhile, Edmund and Serena fired lightning and ether blasts at its body together, setting it on fire.

  And just to keep it ablaze, his men started throwing logs at it, feeding the flames until the stench of burning rot thickened the air.

  They joined the rest who were keeping the spawn army at bay and aided in driving the remaining monsters away. There wasn’t much left of them, and so it didn’t take as much effort as bringing the giant down. With the undead finally down, Edmund and Serena fell to their knees, weakened. Edmund was heavily injured, and both he and Serena were spent. Aristide finally came after the last of the spawn had been driven off.

  “Ride to the nearest town!” he barked to the men. “Hurry!”

  Gualter and Lyam took their horses from their wagons and sent them galloping despite the darkening sky.

  Edmund was still trying to catch his breath when he spoke to Serena. “Are you… are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she breathed. “I just… need to… catch my breath. How about… you?”

  “Nothing we’ve… never been through,” the prince said, though his voice betrayed how close he was to losing himself.

  Damien glanced at the monster’s head, brows knitting. “What in Hemera’s light is this thing?”

  “Another cave-dwelling monster?” Leif guessed. “The locals said… a lot of them come out sometimes.”

  “But this…” Damien said. “This isn’t just some wild animal.”

  Edmund’s gaze went toward it as he helped Serena up. “We have to move… as soon as Gualter and Lyam return. We don’t know… if there’s more of those around here…”

  Staying there wasn’t even a question. His men quickly packed, and once Gualter and Lyam returned with more horses and men, they moved as quickly as possible under the moonlight, wheels rattling, armor clinking, no one speaking unless they had to.

  From afar, Kleitos watched, his men behind him. His telescope focused on the prince and Serena who were riding together.

  “So that’s how it fights, and the Prince of Aurelith. Quite impressive,” he murmured, amused, before he turned to one of his men. “Even more so if they don’t keep spamming the same attack, though, right?”

  The soldier nodded without saying a word.

  Kleitos then moved his telescope to view the creature’s severed head and burning body. “Would’ve lasted longer if Laurent let it transform at the right pace. Oh, well. That’s his guy.”

  He watched Edmund and his companions ride until they were out of sight before ordering his men to burn the village and all the monsters’ remains. He then pulled out a pad of paper and a quill and began writing, whispering to himself the battle that transpired.