As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft amber glow over the estate, Leesa's thoughts swirled like a storm ready to burst. Her mind ached with questions, but one stood above the rest—how had the rumours of Flavian's abduction spread so swiftly? The origin of that whisper still eluded her. She needed answers.
Determined, she made her way through the familiar halls of the manor, her boots echoing softly on marble floors polished to a shine. Nostalgia clung to the walls—curtains she once hid behind as a child, the faint scent of rosewood and ink from her father's study, it all felt like a dream she had once lived. They reached the Duke's study. Fredrick knocked, announcing her entry with the reverence due a noble. The door creaked open.
"Good evening, Father. How have you been?" Leesa bowed with practised grace, but her smile was sincere. It had been too long since she'd stood in this room.
The Duke of Astandra stood behind his large oaken desk, parchment in hand. But at the sight of her, his composure faltered, and a tear glistened at the edge of his eye. He quickly set the paper aside and came toward her. "I'm glad you're home, darling. I've missed you dearly," he said, embracing her briefly. "How is the palace treating you? Is work going well?"
Leesa gave a dry laugh. "Well, I wouldn't say things are fine, not when I've lost the Empire's only prince."
The Duke went still, the weight of her words dropping into the silence like a stone in a pond. "So… it's true, then," he said at last, voice low. "Those rumours—they weren't just idle gossip. The Crown Prince vanished... under your watch?"
Leesa exhaled slowly. "Yes."
He studied her face with concern. "Are you alright, my dear? That must have been chaos."
"I'm managing," she replied, but her tone betrayed exhaustion. Then she tilted her head. "But you mentioned rumours—where did you hear them?"
The Duke sighed, moving back behind his desk. "Since the festival, some nobles have taken to hosting private banquets to celebrate in their own pompous way. Your mother attended one last night. Word started there, I suspect. Some noblewoman claimed the Crown Prince had been abducted—under your command, no less."
Leesa frowned. "How did she even...? No one outside the palace circle should've known."
The Duke looked weary. "Your mother didn't take kindly to the accusation. You know how she is. She insisted, loudly, that there was no way you could have let such a thing happen."
"And…?"
"And apparently, a certain older lady kept running her mouth, so your mother, in full duchess glory, dragged her by the hair out of the banquet hall."
Leesa blinked. "She what?"
"Yes. Right to the exit doors. It made quite a scene."
A shudder went down Leesa's spine at the thought. "Wow."
"I had the same reaction," the Duke muttered.
The image of Lilian Marlene dragging an old noblewoman through the exit doors from a party was too shocking and dreadful. They let a moment of silence stretch between them, perhaps for the sake of the unfortunate noblewoman.
Then the Duke turned serious once more. "But tell me honestly, Leesa, if the Crown Prince truly vanished, why are you here and not still out searching?"
"I… have no leads. That's the truth," she admitted. She recounted the visit to the mage tower, the lack of magical traces, and how everything had gone cold.
"So, it wasn't magic. Then what?" the Duke asked, furrowing his brow.
Leesa hesitated. Then, squinting slightly, she ventured, "I know this might sound absurd, but I think... his highness the crown prince went on his own."
The Duke's brows shot up. "You think the Crown Prince staged his own kidnapping? Into a perilous situation at that? If someone heard, they would think his highness has gone mad," marvelled the Duke.
"I know it sounds wild," Leesa admitted, "but I can't ignore my instinct. When every other possibility falls apart, you have to consider the unthinkable."
Leesa's voice faltered for a moment. She had been holding that thought back for hours. It had clawed at her mind on the way back from the mage tower, buried under layers of uncertainty and fear. But now, as she said it aloud, something in her shifted—like breathing after holding it too long. Maybe she had just needed someone to hear it. She wasn't sure if it made her a fool or simply someone desperate for sense in a senseless situation. But she had to say it. And deep down, she wasn't just guessing—she was starting to believe it.
The Duke didn't interrupt this time. He listened.
"I think... he went to find the one behind all the recent assassination attempts on him. He's been under constant threat, and I believe he thought the only way to root out the truth was to confront it directly. Head-on. Even if it meant walking into danger."
The Duke pinched the bridge of his nose. "So, he trusts his commanders that much, does he? That you'll clean up after his recklessness."
Leesa smiled faintly. "He does."
The Duke sighed again, deeper this time. "I might need to send a letter to the Emperor and recommend a proper scolding. This can't go on. He's the heir to the Empire, not a sword-swinging vigilante."
Leesa chuckled. "That's all I've managed to figure out, anyway. Just theories. I need something concrete."
"Then what will you do now? How are you going to save him if you don't know where he might be?"
"I don't know yet. I'll chase down any hint I can find. Even a contradiction. But... Father, have you seen anything strange lately? Anything suspicious?"