Esau's POV
I lounged in the foul corner of that piss-soaked tavern, one arm slung over my chair back, the other propping my head on my knuckles.
My mug rested on my knee, half-full, warm, and untouched because even my worst habits draw a line somewhere.
Across from me, the merchant lord face slick with sweat, silk sticking to his neck had been droning on since he sat down.
"…I swear on my mother's grave, Highness, that beast shredded my carts like straw barrels smashed, spices lost, my men scattered like chickens. Six dead. Six drivers, just gone.
I froze up, I couldn't move. If the sellswords hadn't fought it off, I'd be meat in the mud, too.
Gods as my witness."
I let my boot tap the sticky floorboards, heel keeping time while my eyes drifted across the room cracked beams, sour ale stink, half the drunks pretending not to eavesdrop.
He kept squeaking. Voice climbing like a kicked rat every time I didn't answer.
"and the reward!
I paid double, triple, even! Half my convoy lost but."
I shifted just enough to let the candle catch my grin. Didn't say a word.
Let him squirm in the silence. My thumb traced lazy circles around the rim of my mug, tapping it once when his voice cracked.
He finally wheezed his way to the part that mattered. Protection. Royal guards. Gold to buy back his sleep at night.
I lifted my eyes slowly as dawn creeping up on a thief.
"Protection, huh?"
I knocked back the last stale mouthful, just to shut him up for one blessed heartbeat. Set the mug down by my boot.
"Alright. Here's the deal you get my boys on your walls, your caravans, your miserable spice wagons.
Bandits steer clear. Swamp monsters eat someone else's mule."
I leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice dropping enough that he had to lean in, too.
"But favors breed favors. I keep you safe you give me something back.
Fair?"
He nodded so hard I thought his neck might give out.
"Anything, Your Highness! Whatever you ask!"
I raised an eyebrow.
"Anything? You sure about that word? Because I'm generous but I hate being lied to."
I drummed my fingers on the wood. Soft rhythm. Made him flinch every time my nail clicked the grain.
"There's a crew sniffing around these parts: criminals, Arcane hoarders.
Runeclaw don't stalk empty wagons. So either you had something worth its appetite… or you know who did. Which is it?"
He lifted both palms, stammering.
"No one! I swear, it's just bad luck I don't traffic in Arcane, I swear on my sons"
I chuckled no humor in it.
"You nobles really love swearing on corpses.
I should start counting how many graves you lot bury under your lies."
I grabbed his collar, tugged him halfway across the table just enough to hear the chair legs shriek on the floor.
"Last chance. Who's moving Arcane through your trade routes?
Talk now or watch your spices rot in the swamp with your bones."
Before he could answer, the doors slammed open behind me. Wind and rain punched the stink out of the room.
"Your Highness!"
My soldiers moved on instinct steel out, pistols cocked at the soaking-wet palace rider. I shoved the merchant back in his chair like tossing a sack of grain.
"Stay."
I stood, my coat falling around my boots like a drawn curtain. The messenger knelt quick smart.
"Forgive me, Highness urgent word from Kingston. The King… your father… he's dying. The court calls you home to name the next heir."
Something in my chest went quiet. Then the Arcane flickered at my fingertips, lighting up green in the cracks between my knuckles soft, steady, no screaming rage this time. Just the truth.
I flicked my wrist. My men lowered their guns, eyes fixed anywhere but on me.
"Alright. Enough standing around. Captain two men, saddled up. You're flying with me."
Hooves clattered. Armor rattled. No one dared look me dead on. Good.
I stepped out into the rain, dragging wet hair out of my eyes. Whistled sharp through my teeth wove a twist of Arcane into the note, bright enough to crack the sky open.
Alexi answered. My Nyx Griffin. Four wings folded in tight as he hit the mud, feathers like a stormcloud came alive, eyes glowing gold in the dark.
I pressed my palm to his beak, muttered low enough only he heard:
"Let's remind the court why they keep my name on their lips."
I swung up on his shoulders, his mane rough under my fingers.
My captain jogged up, rain dripping from his brow.
"My Prince orders?"
I glanced down, half a grin carving my mouth.
"Keep this snake in his chair till I'm back. If he runs, burn everything he touches.
And I want scouts on my brothers if they sniff Kingston before I do, break their legs."
Movement by the gate caught my eye broad shoulders, dreadlocks, coin flipping lazily through the rain.
Aziz.
I didn't spare him a second glance. Clicked my tongue once.
Alexi launched us skyward. Rain whipped my face raw and it didn't matter. The storm was always mine first.
I pressed my cheek to Alexi's neck, voice a promise to no one but myself.
"Keep my throne warm, Father. I'll be home before the blood dries."