(Lygni's POV)
The letter bore the royal seal in a red as dark as blood. A visual warning that the throne was watching.
"Thank you, Madam Liss," I said, receiving the envelope without changing my expression. My fingers recognized the texture of the official paper, but my posture remained rigid.
"Is everything alright, Lygni?" Aether questioned. His voice had that new cadence—firm, devoid of the hesitation that used to define him.
"It's nothing you should worry about," I replied shortly, closing my fingers over the rough paper. "I will retire now," I said, gathering my equipment.
I walked toward my quarters under his watchful gaze. Once in my room, the moon illuminated the space, casting a silver, cold light over the worn wooden desk. I broke the seal and analyzed the contents.
"How is my bastard son?" The King's words were aggressive, but my focus was on the calligraphy. It was the King himself who had written it, meaning the matter would not pass through secretaries. "Is he buried yet?".
"You know, Lygni, your last report left me curious," I could imagine the King around me, as if I were in an interrogation.
"He asks too much? He knows too little? What would that be?" Every line I read brought the sensation that he was standing beside me, pressing me for answers I was still trying to formulate.
"And since when has Aether been interested in the Web?" the letter continued, dripping with familiar contempt. "He was always a dead weight who lived from bed to bed. Prostitutes were all he wanted".
I kept my face expressionless as I processed the information. The King was right about the past, but the present in Valenreach did not match the records. The man I saw today, coordinating the logistics of a canal and demonstrating a logical understanding of the Web, was not the "dead weight" described by the throne. That gap in his memory, which I initially reported as trauma, now seemed like something much more complex—and dangerous.
He seemed like a completely different person. The old Prince Aether—the bastard who only cared about sex and parties—was no longer there. Instead, I saw a man who seemed willing to fight. But fight for what?.
I leaned against my small bed. His amnesia: at first, I thought the King himself had caused it, but his behavior was too different. Was he trying to be someone of value? Or was it just another phase?.
I turned my eyes back to the letter:
"I want you to come to the capital as soon as possible. I want to know everything about him in detail". The written words were an order that left no room for questioning.
"To confirm, I will send some people. I will clear this up, but for that, I want you to leave him alone. We shall see how he fares. Come to the capital and report everything to me in person. Do not disappoint me".
I closed the letter in my hands.
"Burn".
Immediately, the letter vanished, leaving not even ashes behind.
"Aether... for a bastard prince, you have been showing far too much value".