Chapter 121: The Silent Knight
A few moments later...
The road from Valorain to Gravehold was not peaceful.
Three horses moved along the royal road before sunrise, followed by a plain carriage without banners. No golden lion flew above them. No royal soldiers marched around them. No trumpets announced their passing. To anyone watching from far away, they looked like a small noble group traveling quietly with a few guards.
That was exactly what the old emperor wanted.
Inside the carriage sat the second prince of Valoria.
Prince Caelan leaned near the window and looked outside with bored eyes. He was young, well dressed, and handsome in the clean way of someone raised by palace servants. His yellow gold hair was tied behind his head, and a short sword rested beside his seat, though the blade looked more ceremonial than useful. He had wanted to bring more people. He had wanted better horses, better guards, and at least one royal banner. The emperor had refused all of it.
Across from him sat the kneeling man from the throne room.
His name was Sir Aldric Veyne.
He did not look bored. His eyes kept moving from road to trees, from trees to hills, from hills to the riders ahead. He trusted quiet roads less than loud ones.
Prince Caelan sighed. "Are all imperial missions this uncomfortable?"
Aldric answered without looking at him. "The comfortable ones usually hide sharper knives."
The prince frowned. "My father said I should observe."
"Then observe the road first."
"I see trees."
"Then look again."
Caelan turned back to the window, annoyed.
Aldric did not explain. A prince who could not notice danger before being told would one day become a prince carried home in a box. Gravehold would teach him better, or it would prove the lesson had come too late.
Inside Aldric’s coat, the imperial decree rested in a sealed case.
He had not opened it. Not yet.
Ahead of them, Gravehold waited with noble anger, buried secrets, and a fallen house that had suddenly become important again.
The next day... (Back to Lucard.)
The small reception room of Silver Ash House was already prepared when Celia arrived.
Lucard sat near the window with a cup of tea in front of him. He had not touched it. The morning light fell across the table, making the steam from the cup look pale and thin. Jenny and Jake were not in the room. Peter stood outside the door, and two Marovain guards waited near the courtyard gate. The house felt calm, but the calm was only on the surface.
Celia entered wearing a dark blue dress with silver patterns at the sleeves. Her hair was tied neatly, and her face carried the polite control of a noble lady who had decided not to show that she had worried about someone for three days.
Lucard looked at her once.
"You came twice."
Celia stopped for half a breath, then walked to the chair opposite him. "Lady Jenny told you."
"Yes."
"She also told me you were training."
"She lied well enough."
Celia sat down. "Not well enough."
Lucard looked at her. "You knew I was not here."
"I guessed," Celia said. "The guards were too careful. Peter looked too stiff. Jenny answered too quickly. Also, you are not the kind of person who trains quietly inside a room for three days."
"That is a useful observation."
"I am glad my worry was useful to you."
Lucard did not answer that part.
Celia looked at the untouched tea. "You could at least drink it."
"I did not ask for tea."
"The servants are trying to treat you like a normal guest."
"They will fail."
"I know," Celia said. "It is still polite to let them try."
Lucard leaned back slightly. "Did the Rank Four knight say anything?"
Celia’s expression changed at once. The small warmth in the room disappeared.
"No."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing useful," she said. "He gave his name as Halvek once. After that, silence. He has not answered about Garran’s orders, Velkhur’s next move, the escaped mage, or who else knew about the attack."
Lucard’s eyes became calmer.
A man who refused to speak under normal pressure could be loyal, trained, afraid, magically bound, or all of them. A Rank Four knight sent with Garran would not be a fool. If he had been chosen for a hidden attack, he likely carried more than strength.
Celia stood again. "Come with me."
Lucard rose.
Peter opened the door when they stepped into the hallway.
"Young Master?"
"I am going to the Marovain prison."
Peter frowned. "Should I come?"
"No."
Peter did not like that answer, but he only nodded. "I will remain with Lady Jenny and Young Lord Jake."
"Good."
Celia glanced at Lucard as they walked toward the courtyard. "You give orders like everyone has already agreed."
"They usually should."
"That is not how agreement works."
"It is how efficiency works."
She sighed, but her lips moved slightly as if she wanted to smile and refused.
They left Silver Ash House in a closed carriage. Celia had not brought a large escort. Four guards rode with them, enough to show caution but not enough to attract every eye in the street. Gravehold was still tense. People moved in smaller groups. Shops were open, but many doors had guards near them. News had spread. The city knew Velkhur and Marovain were close to war, even if no one knew how close.
The carriage stopped behind the Marovain branch shop.
Celia led Lucard through the rear entrance, down a narrow corridor, and then below the building through a locked stone stairway. The air grew colder as they descended. The smell changed too. Clean wood and merchant incense vanished. Damp stone, iron, blood, and burned herbs replaced them.
The prison under the Marovain shop was not large, but it was built well.
Each cell had iron bars layered with silver runes. The walls were thick. The hallway had no windows. Lamps burned with steady blue light that made every shadow look sharp. This was not a place for common thieves. This was where House Marovain kept people who were too valuable to kill quickly and too dangerous to keep above ground.
They reached the last room.
A heavy door stood open.