The wedding is done, our plans are set in motion, and the celebrations have finally drawn to a close. Now we embark on our journey from Callibean to Soria—a grand royal convoy stretching for miles, filled with gifts, diplomats, and guards. Our trusted men are scattered throughout the group and positioned along the route—not just to ensure our safety, but to gather intelligence on neighboring kingdoms beyond just Custodian. We need to know who stands with us, who remains neutral, and who might be swayed by Custodian's promises of power.
Before we depart, I request a private audience with Father in his study. The room is quiet, filled with the scent of old paper and ink—his usual domain for matters of state and family.
"Vernom," he says, setting down his quill as I enter. "You look like you've come with something weighing on your mind."
"I have, Father," I reply, closing the door behind me. "I've learned that unlike Callibean—who chose not to invite Custodian's royal family to the wedding—Soria will be hosting them at the second ceremony. They believe maintaining open lines of communication, even with tyrants, is necessary to keep the peace."
King Theron nods slowly, his expression serious. "I understand their reasoning, though I don't agree with it. Custodian sees diplomacy as a sign of weakness."
"Which is precisely why I've come to make a request," I say, stepping forward. "I want to travel incognito. I'll have Cael take my place as Prince Vernom in the royal carriage, while I act as a servant and spy within the convoy."
His eyes narrow slightly with concern. "Are you certain about this? Cael is loyal, but he's not trained to play the part of a prince."
"I've been preparing him for weeks," I assure him. "He knows my mannerisms, how I speak to nobles, what topics I'm interested in. And besides—very few people outside our court have actually seen me up close. Custodian's royals have never met me, and I'm 100% certain they won't recognize my face. Only Soria's nobles who attended the wedding here will know me, but I've already spoken with Princess Miolla. She'll inform her family and trusted advisors of my true role to avoid any complications."
Father walks to the window, looking out at the convoy assembling in the palace courtyard below. "What do you hope to achieve by doing this?"
"By moving among the servants, merchants, and guards in the convoy, I'll hear things that no prince would ever be told," I explain. "I'll learn what people really think about Custodian, what rumors are spreading across the kingdoms, and where their loyalties lie. Plus, being close to the ground will let me spot spies or threats that might go unnoticed by those in the royal carriage."
"I also want to observe Custodian's royals firsthand," I continue. "In my studies, I've read about their behavior, but seeing how they interact with others—how they treat servants, how they speak of their kingdom—will give us valuable insight into their plans and weaknesses."
In fact, Father, I really know exactly how Custodian's armies move because I was one of them. The words burn on my tongue, but I hold them back. Sometimes I feel guilty—what I'm doing now feels like deceiving them, but how can I explain my predicament? That Prince Vernom is not the Prince Vernom everyone knows, but a Custodian soldier who woke up in his body? How would that make sense? Who would believe such an impossible thing? I've carried this secret alone since the day I opened my eyes in this palace, and I know it's a burden I must continue to bear.
After a long moment of silence, Father turns back to me, his gaze warm with both pride and worry. "You've grown into a wise young man, Vernom. Not many princes would be willing to set aside their title and work in secret for the good of their kingdom."
"I'm just doing what needs to be done, Father," I say quietly, the weight of my unspoken truth pressing down on me.
"Then it's settled," he says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "But you must promise me one thing—your safety comes first. If your cover is compromised, you'll withdraw immediately. We need you alive to see our plans through."
"I promise," I reply, grateful for his trust even though I know I'm not being fully honest with him.
As we leave the study, I find Cael waiting outside, dressed in a replica of my royal robes. He looks nervous but determined.
"Ready?" I ask him with a small smile.
"As ready as I'll ever be, Your Highness," he says, straightening his shoulders. "Though I still think I'll mess up the way you hold your wine glass."
"You'll do fine," I assure him, handing him a small leather pouch with my signet ring and other personal items. "Just remember—you're not pretending to be me. You're playing the part of the prince they expect to see. Confidence is key."
I then change into simple servant's clothes—dark wool tunic, sturdy boots, a plain cloak to protect against the weather. My hair is tied back differently, and I've practiced walking with a slight slouch, making myself seem smaller, less noticeable. Every movement feels familiar in a way that aches—this is how I moved through the world for years, before I became… someone else.
When I join the convoy as part of the group tending to the horses and carriages, no one gives me a second glance. I move among the other workers, greeting them by name, asking about their families and journeys. Already, I can feel the difference—people speak freely, their guard down, sharing stories and concerns they'd never voice in front of nobles. I listen carefully, storing every piece of information away in my mind—names, places, rumors that could mean the difference between success and failure for our cause.
As the convoy begins to move, I look up at the royal carriage where Cael sits, already beginning to settle into his role. He sits straight, holding his head high, and even from a distance, he looks every bit the prince. In the distance, I spot a group of carriages with Custodian's crimson and black banners—they'll be traveling with us part of the way to Soria. My hands clench unconsciously at my sides as I recognize the insignia on their flags—the same one I once wore on my own armor.
This journey will be dangerous, and the risks are high. But every step we take brings us closer to our goal—building a network strong enough to protect our people and bring change to a land that has known nothing but tyranny for far too long. And maybe, just maybe, in doing so, I can find a way to make amends for all the things I did as a soldier of Custodian.
The morning sun casts long shadows across the dusty road as our convoy winds its way through rolling hills toward the Soria border. I'm walking alongside the supply wagons, helping secure a loose tarp when a hand lightly taps my shoulder. I turn to find Cael—still in my royal robes, but having slipped away from the carriage under the pretense of stretching his legs.
He moves with surprising grace for someone playing the part of a prince, and with a quick glance around to ensure no one is watching, he slides a folded piece of parchment into my hand. His fingers brush mine for just a moment, and he gives a subtle nod before turning back toward the royal carriage, his posture straightening as he assumes the bearing of Prince Vernom once more.
I wait until we reach a small rest stop, where the drivers are changing horses and the other servants are gathering water from a nearby stream, before finding a quiet spot behind a wagon to unfold the letter. The familiar handwriting makes me smile—it's from Vonce.
Vernom,
I admit, as time goes by, your ideas are becoming more and more… artistic. I still don't know how you manage to come up with plans that walk the line between madness and brilliance, but I cannot deny they're beneficial.
The supplies you requested are already on their way to Meodes—we're using the same routes we discussed, and our merchants report no signs of Custodian spies along the path. Prince Aldric has sent word that their forces are training well, though they're growing anxious as Custodian's armies draw closer to their border.
I've increased patrols along our western passes as you suggested. We found evidence of Custodian scouts mapping our defenses—they're being careful, but not careful enough. I've had our men leave false markings about our troop numbers and weapon stockpiles. If your plan holds, they'll report back exactly what we want them to hear.
Father says you've taken to your new role well. I imagine you're finding it easier to move freely without everyone bowing and scraping at every turn. Just be careful—Custodian's men are sharp, and even a small mistake could compromise everything.
P.S. – Next time you decide to have a servant play prince while you pose as help, at least give me more than a day's notice. I spent half the morning explaining to the council why "you" suddenly wanted to travel with the supply wagons. My facial muscles are still sore from trying to keep a straight face while describing your "new interest in logistics."
I almost laugh out loud as I read the last line, quickly covering my mouth with my hand to avoid drawing attention. I can perfectly picture Vonce's expression—his brows furrowed in that familiar look of exasperation mixed with pride, his jaw tight as he tried to explain my latest scheme to the confused council members. He's always been the one who takes things seriously, while I… well, I've never been one to follow the expected path. Even in my past life as a soldier, I'd find ways to bend rules and find better routes through enemy territory—skills that are serving me well now.
I carefully fold the letter and tuck it into the hidden pocket of my tunic, then make my way back to the group. As I help load fresh water barrels onto the wagons, I notice a cluster of carriages up ahead—their crimson and black banners marking them clearly as Custodian's. They're moving to join our convoy for the stretch of road that leads through neutral territory. My chest tightens at the sight—those banners once meant home to me, now they represent everything I'm fighting against.
A man in dark armor rides alongside their lead carriage—tall, with a harsh expression that makes even the other nobles keep their distance. I recognize him from my past life: Lord Kaine, one of Custodian's most ruthless commanders. He's the kind of man who sees kindness as weakness and loyalty as something to be bought. I remember serving under him once, watching him execute a young soldier who'd tried to share his rations with a starving child. The memory still makes my hands shake with anger.
I move closer to the Custodian wagons, pretending to check on the horses, and listen as their servants speak in low voices.
"Did you hear? The Crown Prince Ardias himself is traveling to attend the wedding in Soria—says he wants to see the alliance between Callibean and Soria for himself," one says, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
"His Majesty thinks this wedding is a waste of time," another replies, his voice bitter. "He says Soria will fold as easily as Meodes once we show them our strength—and so will the Callibeans. Those fools are too idealistic, thinking they can build peace with words instead of swords."
I file the information away as we continue on our journey. By the time we stop for the night, I've gathered more intelligence than I could have hoped for—rumors of Custodian's plans to move against Soria after Meodes falls, whispers of discontent among their lower ranks who are tired of endless war, even the location of a hidden supply depot they're using to stockpile weapons in the mountains north of Meodes. I know that place well—it was where we'd store provisions during my time as a soldier, and there's a secret tunnel leading into the heart of their compound that only a handful of us ever knew about.
As darkness falls and the campfires are lit, I see Cael making his way toward me again. This time, he brings a plate of food—roasted meat, fresh bread, and cheese—slipping it to me when no one is looking. He's managed to get extra portions, knowing how hard the work is and how little the servants are usually given.
"Prince Vonce sent word with the supplies master," he whispers, keeping his voice low as we sit near the edge of our camp. "Everything is going according to plan back home. Also… he says to stop giving him gray hairs with your schemes."
I grin, taking a bite of bread—it's warm and fresh, a luxury I rarely had in Custodian's army. "Tell him I'll try my best. But no promises. After all, if I played it safe, we'd already be planning for war instead of working to prevent it."
As I settle in near the wagons, watching the Custodian camp across from ours, I think of Vonce's letter. Artistic ideas or not, every piece we move on this board brings us one step closer to changing the future. And with allies like my brother watching our backs, with Cael risking everything to help me, with Prince Aldric and Princess Miolla standing with us—I know we stand a chance of building something better for all our kingdoms. Even if I can never tell them the truth of who I really am, I'll do everything in my power to make sure their faith in me isn't misplaced.