“Your Grace?” She shook the bed gently, not daring to touch him directly. He grunted, but did not move or open his eyes, so she shook the bed again. “Please, Your Grace?”

He finally opened one sleepy eye, followed by another, but it took even longer for both eyes to focus on her. She swallowed nervously.

“Your Grace, Duke Nikolaus. The council is having an emergency meeting soon. I w-was told to wake you up.” She cursed herself for stuttering on her words when meeting the duke for the first time. His eyes were now fixed on her. “I’m sorry to have woken up Your Grace, but they, ah… They insisted it was important. I apologize... I was told to wake you -”

He moved deceptively fast for a man who was sound asleep a few moments ago, his arm shooting up and grabbing at the collar of her dress. He pulled her roughly, until her face was so close she could see her own reflection in his brown eyes, as he examined her. She was close enough to also see the stubble of his beard, or how his messy blonde hair covered half of his face as well as the few lines in his face that revealed his age, not old but certainly no longer young. She could also smell the aftereffects of alcohol on his breath.

“You’re new here,” he said, after examining her for a second. It was not framed as a question and he did not release her.

“Y-yes my - ! I mean, Your Grace!” She squeaked, despite herself. “I’m a new servant, here to help with your - umm, to work here. Cleaning and… dressing.”

“A servant,” he repeated, an amused smile on his lips. “Here to address my… needs.” He emphasised the last word with a wider grin while sitting up on his bed. She realized that he was naked under the fur blanket that now covered his lower half. “And you know what is the tradition for every new servant girl that comes to work for me, on her first day? Hmm?”

“I… I don’t...” She was at loss for words, eyes wide and scared. Caught between a horrible situation approaching and the realization that this man could have her killed without anyone batting an eye. She did not even struggle as he pulled her a bit closer, so close she could feel his breath on her lips.

“Every servant, on their first day working for me… Gets a big pay bonus!” And with that he released her and backed away, waiting for her reaction.

“I… Wait, what?”

He laughed then, a goofy hyena laugh that was completely at odds with his previous, threatening demeanor. He saw the confused look on her face, and laughed even harder.

“Just a little joke… I’m sorry,” he said, wiping a tear away from his eye. “But your face… It’s priceless.”

“Oh, I… I see,” she replied while letting out a weak laugh of her own, out of relief more than anything.

“By the way, the joke was to… You know. Make you think I was going for something and then changing it last minute. But the bonus part is real. Ask for it from my headservant when you finish your work today,” he said while shaking off the rest of the fur blanket and getting up from the bed. He was indeed fully naked, a fact he did not care about as he ambled to a nearby table full of all sorts of drinks and peered at their labels. “So what is this emergency meeting you mentioned about, did they tell you anything?”

Gisela, for that was the servant girl’s name, looked away from the duke. “Oh, I… They did not explain to me why, Your Grace. But they did seem to be serious, and in quite a hurry. They emphasized that you needed to be woken up, uh… No matter what.”

“Did the messenger actually say ‘tell him to get his ass here even if he’s in the middle of fucking a whore’ or something along those lines?” He asked, picking a bottle at last and uncorking it. He took a sniff, then took a deep gulp straight from the bottle, eyes screwed tight as he felt the fire run down his throat to his stomach. “Please, don’t be afraid to be honest with me,” he continued.

She smiled a little, her first genuine while in this room. “He said he didn’t care if you were drunk or passed out, I had to wake you up anyways,” she said. “His words, not mine.”

He nodded. “Never be afraid of telling me the truth. I hate it when servants lie to me out of politeness. That kind of thing can quickly blind you to reality.” He took another, smaller swig of the bottle, then corked it again and placed it on the table.

“Apologies, Your Grace,” she said. Then she snuck another look at him. He was still naked, and in really good shape for his age, or so she supposed. It was actually hard to pin down how old he was. “Would you like me to help you get dressed, Your Grace?”

He waved her away. “Nah, I can do that myself. I’m a noble, not an incapable cripple. Go get me a light breakfast from the kitchens. They will know what I mean.”

She bowed. “At once, Your Grace.” And with that she quickly left the room, with no small amount of relief at not having screwed up her very first task, and intent on not screwing up her second. He watched with a smirk as she left the room. Then he searched the bed for the clothes he wore yesterday, and found them all crumpled in a heap on the floor. He could have easily found some fresh and clean clothes from his wardrobe or have new ones brought in by servants, but… For a council meeting? Nah, he thought, these wrinkled and sweaty clothes would do just fine.

When Duke Nikolaus, High Lord of the House of Eryus, opened the door of the council chamber and entered it, all others stopped mid-conversation and looked at him with a displeased expression. There were variations in that displeasure, from anger, to smug contempt to reserved disgust. He smiled back at all of them.

“What took you so long?” Asked Duke Andros, an older man in full plate armor. His hair was white and cut short, and there were visible scars on his nose and the side of his head. “Don’t you understand what an emergency meeting is?”

“I got here as soon as I could. You know, after I woke up and everything” replied Nikolaus as he made his way to his chair and sat down in a slouch, propping his elbows on the table. “So, what did I miss?”

The other lords glanced at each other. “We have what looks like an immense opportunity on our hands,” said Duke Spyrus, a small, overweight man with reading optics and an impressive coat in gold and black. At first glance, few would guess that he was considered the most powerful and dangerous man in the room.

“We’ve received reports that a prince of the Viridian royal family is within our borders,” added Duchess Calliope, the only woman in the room. She was an elderly woman in her sixties but her eyes remained fierce as a hawk’s and just as compassionate. “Shipwrecked, apparently. We were notified of this by one of our agents, who apparently arranged for it in a last-minute scheme which was successful. And one of his guards turned coat and betrayed his position.”

“What?” That was enough to get even Nikolaus out of his slouch as he leaned in, eyes hungry with interest. “So, have we captured him?”

“I’m afraid there were complications,” said Spyrus, glancing at a letter in front of him. “The prince was apparently hiding in the city of Meridia. Most battalions were occupied with the western border battlefields or on the northern forest forts so only a couple of battalions were close enough to respond. One arrived yesterday in the city and, apparently, engaged them directly. They...” At this point Spyrus hesitated, and his calm demeanor waned briefly, before he rallied and continued. “They failed to capture Prince Demian, while suffering heavy casualties in the process.”

There were small sighs of dismay around the table, which were then interrupted by a loud, hyena laugh. It was Nikolaus, of course, who was leaning on the table for support while laughing so hard tears came out of eyes. The other lords glared at him, but he kept laughing.

“You’re telling me…?” He paused to let out a chuckle and catch his breath. “You’re telling me a whole battalion couldn’t capture a single prince? Well, no wonder we’re not making any headway in the war!”

“If you removed your head from your ass for one second, boy,” barked Andros, pounding the table with his plate gauntlet, “you would remember that the prince is still surrounded by his royal guard, not to mention the royal prince’s extraordinarily powerful Gift! And I must say, the royal guard certainly lived up to their reputation this time. They managed to kill more than half of the peasant battalion, as well as one of my House’s noble knights. True warriors to the end.”

“Thankfully they suffered heavy casualties themselves,” said Spyrus, once again reading from the message in front of him. “We recovered five corpses of what we believe were members of their royal guard. All of them of noble blood. They paid dearly for their lord’s freedom and a second battalion now has the city locked down.”

“Do you know if their turncoat was among the ones killed? Or does he still live?” Asked Leander, cocking his head in curiosity. It was the first time he had talked while Nikolaus was there, and his voice sounded the same as always: soft and melodious, more fit for a singer than a warrior.

“Yes, apparently he was killed in the fighting as well,” said Spyrus, adjusting his glasses. “And apparently the prince was rescued by what they think is a Viridian spy? A half-orc apparently.”

“A half-orc? As a spy?” Duchess Calliope barely concealed her skeptical laughter. “Those brutes can barely use weapons! You’re telling me a half-breed is somehow leaking secrets to the Virydians and outsmarting our own spies?”

“Don’t underestimate the orcs, my Lady” grunted Andros, glaring at Calliope. “They may be simpler than us, but they can still be cunning, as well as strong. We would have already conquered the entire Red Forest by now if they were only simple-minded beasts.”

“Or maybe your knights are too weak to do their jobs,” said Nikolaus. “Need a little help there, Andros old chap?” He grinned when Andros glared back at him while his plate gauntlet clenched into a fist.

Spyrus cleared his throat. “We’re getting off the subject,” he said.

“So what should we do about the lost prince?” Asked Leander. “I’m assuming you had a good reason to summon all of us here?”

Spyros nodded. “I would like for us to pull back a couple more battalions off the battlefields to help search for him, as well as keeping any spies or special forces on the notice for the prince or his half-blood spy. Can we agree that capturing Prince Demian, even if he is the third in line for the throne, would still be a priceless advantage in the war? I don’t think we can afford to let him slip past our fingers.”

“Agreed on its importance,” said Calliope. “But do you really think we will need two battalions to search for one boy? What if this is some sort of ruse and the prince is nowhere nearby?”

“On this, we have strong evidence,” said Spyrus, tapping his papers. “One of the peasant soldiers feigned his death, and was a victim of the Royal Voice. He was unable to move for hours after being commanded to, and was almost buried alive. The effects are unmistakable, the prince has full command of his Gift.”

There was a pause in the conversation, as all the council members considered the implications of this fact.

“I vote for using what we can,” said Tarsus. “There’s no such thing as overkill when the stakes are this high.”

“Very well, two battalions is appropriate,” agreed Duchess Calliope. “I can also grant some of my own knights as support.”

“With my vote, it is decided. House Sofkos also pledges four of our Knights to the effort,” said Spyrus. “I believe that these forces, together, can safely counter and capture the prince, hopefully with minimal loss of life. I would also like descriptions of the prince and this suspected spy to be spread among the general population, especially the areas closest to the border. Offer a reward for anyone with information about them, and please do whatever you can to capture him.” As Spyros talked one of his servants gave a paper to each of the other lords with the description of the prince and the spy. Leander peered at it and frowned.

“Wait,” he said. “The prince is blind?”

He and Nikolaus stopped and glanced back at Spyrus, who calmly nodded. “Yes, he was born without the ability to see. I thought everyone was aware of that?”

Nikolaus broke into his hyena laughter once again. “Oh man! We’re sending two battalions just to capture a single, blind noble?” He giggled. “Oh, this is like something out of a joke. Hah! Oh, that’s rich! This is so dumb!”

Spyrus looked sternly at Nikolaus who grinned back at him while slouching back on his chair. “I don’t expect you to understand, and thankfully your vote is not needed. Are you with this fool, Duke Leander?”

Leander, who was reading the description, took his time finishing it before shaking his head slowly. “This sounds important. There’s not much we can do, but House Lycoris will support this decision any way we can.”

“Good, that settles it. The decision to bring two battalions away from the border to search for the Vyridian Prince passes, 4 to 1.”

“Hey! I never said I was against it!” Protested Nikolaus. “Sure, sure! Send in the troops! This should be fun!”

“So glad we have your approval,” said Calliope sarcastically.

“A unanimous decision then,” said Spyrus.

“I think this council meeting is over,” said Andros, getting up from his chair. Nobody disagreed.

When Nikolaus returned to his room Gisela, the new servant, was cleaning the last of the room. When she noticed him, she immediately turned and curtsied.

“Welcome back, Your Grace,” she said, eyes still staring at the ground.

“Ah, the new servant,” he said with a smile, walking to the drinks table and examining them. “Be a dear and fetch Ser Julius for me, would you?”

“Oh. Umm, Ser… Julius?” She asked, uncertain.

“My personal commander, and the guy who gets me my whores,” he explained with a sly smile, grabbing one of the drinks, uncorking it and looking at her. “Unless you want that task for yourself? Do you know any good wenches?”

“Ah! No, I mean...” Her eyes widened and she opened and closed her mouth, looking for something to say. Nikolaus laughed.

“It’s just a joke,” he said. “Ser Julius will probably be downstairs by the fire. Big guy, blonde hair, wearing armor, but no helmet. Can’t miss him.

“I… Very well, Your Grace,” she replied, giving him another curtsy before leaving the room. He smiled as he saw her leave. Only after she was gone did he carefully put the drink back on the table and corked it shut again, without drinking a single drop.

His swagger and cheeky smile were gone as soon as he was alone. With a serious expression he took a paper out of his coat pocket and read carefully the descriptions of this blind royal prince and his halfblood spy.