Chapter 3

The day of my departure was bright and clear. Half the Capital City seemed to have turned out at the city gates to see me off.

My father, clad in his full military regalia, saw me to my horse. His eyes were a little red. "Charlotte, once you reach the Northern Frontier, follow the Commander's lead. Do not go off on some half-cocked mission of your own. Take care of yourself."

I nodded, my voice steady. "Don't you worry, Father."

Alexander showed up too, still playing the part of the devoted suitor to the hilt. He stepped toward me and held out a small pouch.

"I had a charm blessed for your safety," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Keep it close to your heart, Charlotte. Wait for me. Once I've settled matters here in the capital, I'll bring you home myself."

I looked at him and nearly laughed in his face. Even now, he was still putting on a performance. Was it for my benefit, or for the benefit of my father and the gathered lords? I didn't take the pouch.

"Your Highness is far too thoughtful," I said coolly.

My icy tone caught him off guard, and his smile faltered.

Just then, Isabelle stepped forward from behind him. She was dressed in virginal white, her face a mask of perfectly curated worry and grief. She gave me a graceful, sweeping curtsy.

"Charlotte, the road ahead is long. You must guard your health," she said. "Do not fret about matters here in the Capital City; the Prince and I shall see to everything."

Her words sounded like genuine concern. But underneath, every syllable was a subtle declaration of her claim as Alexander's chosen one.

I looked at her, my gaze calm and steady. "You are too kind to trouble yourself, Ms. Winters."

My tone was perfectly civil, neither warm nor cold.

Isabelle seemed not to have expected me to react this way. A flash of surprise flickered in her eyes.

In her and Alexander's little script, I was supposed to glare at her, maybe even cause a scene and make things awkward.

But I didn't. I couldn't even be bothered to spare her a second glance. Why waste my breath on someone so utterly insignificant?

The bells tolled, signaling it was time. I swung myself into the saddle in one clean, sharp motion.

I didn't look back, not at my father's wistful eyes nor at the two-faced pair standing beside him.

I spurred my horse forward and, with my personal guard in tow, galloped toward the northern gates.

Once we cleared the city walls, the crowds thinned out. The biting wind stung my cheeks, but it cleared my head beautifully.

I left the stench of the Capital City behind me. The road ahead was my fresh start.

*****

After about two hours' ride, I spotted a black carriage waiting silently by the roadside up ahead.

As my troupe approached, the curtain was drawn back, and a man dressed in charcoal-grey silks stepped down.

It was Prince Edmund.

Edmund Ashford was the sixth prince and His Majesty's least favored son. He was also the only man who truly got under Alexander's skin.

My guards immediately went on high alert, flanking me, but I raised a hand to signal them to stand down.

Edmund's mother was from a lowly background, with no family influence to speak of. He was frail and sickly, always keeping out of court politics.

To everyone else, he was just an idle prince, someone with no power and no threat. But I knew he was not nearly as simple as he seemed.

We had crossed paths a few times at palace balls. He was always the wallflower, sitting in the darkest corners, sipping his wine in silence.

Yet, I had always felt his eyes on me. His gaze was layered. It wasn't the look of a suitor; it was the look of a man taking someone's measure.

I pulled the reins and stopped before him. "Prince Edmund, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Edmund looked at me, a faint smile on his pale face. "No need for such formalities, Ms. Sinclair. I merely came to see you off."

He drew a small token of black iron from his sleeve and handed it to me. "The Northern Frontier is a hornet's nest.

"If you find yourself in a tight spot with no way out, take this to the Silvergate Bank, the largest establishment in Frostgate City. There are people there who will see you through."

I glanced down at the token. It was pitch black, engraved with a cryptic, ancient sigil.

I'd heard of Silvergate Bank before. They had their fingers in every pie across the kingdom, and their backers were said to be so powerful that no one dared cross them.

So, it was his. Prince Edmund, who appeared to have neither a penny to his name nor a friend at court, was playing a much deeper game than anyone could imagine.

I didn't take it immediately. "Why are you helping me, Your Highness?"

Edmund's smile grew a little deeper. "Because we are two of a kind. We are the cast-offs, the ones the world has given up on.

"And when you've been thrown to the wolves, you realize the only person you can truly count on is yourself. Wouldn't you agree, Ms. Sinclair?"

His words hit home, striking a chord in the deepest parts of my soul.

He was right. At the end of the day, we were cut from the same cloth.

Alexander was the crown prince, the heir apparent, basking in the sun while Edmund was the forgotten son. And to Alexander, I was nothing more than a pawn to be sacrificed for the sake of his ambitions.

We were both the unloved ones.

I finally reached out and took the token. "My thanks, Your Highness."

Edmund nodded. "Let me leave you with one last piece of advice, Ms. Sinclair. The Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Frontier is a protégé of the Earl. So, keep your wits about you."

With that, he turned and climbed back into his carriage. The black coach made a swift U-turn and rattled back toward the Capital City.