Chapter 378: Announce a curfew?

In an isolated corner of a cobblestone street, where only a few lamps cast a dim light over the pavement, August stood facing a man whose features were concealed beneath a wide-brimmed hat.

"The information has been confirmed, sir," the man reported in a low voice. "Davis Mancini is going to meet someone at the horse stable in an hour."

August listened without interrupting. Once the man had finished speaking, he glanced at Samir and gave a slight nod.

Understanding the signal, Samir took out a pouch filled with coins and tossed it toward the informant. The man caught it with both hands and weighed it briefly before bowing his head.

"Thank you, sir."

August’s gaze remained fixed on him.

"If this information turns out to be false, I’ll hunt you down myself," he warned coldly.

The man stiffened beneath his hat.

"I swear on my life, sir. The information is true. I wouldn’t dare deceive you."

August studied him for another moment before Samir intervened.

"Very well. You may leave."

The man offered a hurried bow and disappeared into the darkness, his footsteps fading along the deserted street.

August and Samir made their way to the upper level of the stable, where they settled into the shadows near a wooden support beam. From their position, they had a clear view of the entrance without exposing themselves to anyone entering the stable.

They waited in silence, listening to the occasional movement of horses below and keeping their attention fixed on the door.

As expected, an hour later, the door creaked open. Davis Mancini stepped inside, followed closely by another man. They glanced around the stable before moving farther into the building, apparently convinced that no one was watching them.

"Have you prepared everything I asked for?" Davis demanded.

The man nodded, but Davis continued before he could answer.

"Before the Duke arrives, we need to send the remaining consignment to the port city. Ever since Prince August caught Fynn Mercer, everyone has become more cautious. We can’t afford to let the authorities discover what we’re doing."

He lowered his voice and glanced toward the stable entrance.

"This is our last opportunity to make a profit, Varek. We need to get the shipment out before anyone interferes with our plans."

From their hiding place above, August exchanged a brief glance with Samir. The conversation had confirmed their suspicions. Davis was involved in the illicit trade, and he intended to move the remaining goods before the Duke’s arrival.

August’s expression hardened as he continued listening, determined to learn where the consignment was being kept before making his move.

"Where are we supposed to collect the consignment, then?" Varek asked.

"It’s in the basement of this stable," Davis replied.

From their hiding place above, August and Samir exchanged a brief glance. They hadn’t expected the contraband to be stored so close to where Davis intended to meet his accomplice.

"Does it really have to be moved tonight?" the other man asked uneasily. "It’s already the hour of the curfew. The Duchess suddenly announced that a curfew would be imposed starting at midnight. She passed this order two hours ago. We have hardly any chance of transporting the goods without being noticed. The soldiers will catch us."

Davis’s expression darkened at the mention of the curfew. "Why did the Duchess suddenly announce a curfew?" Davis murmured, clearly displeased by the unexpected restriction. "When will it be lifted?"

"Early tomorrow morning, at four, before sunrise," Varek answered.

Davis considered the information for a moment before making his decision.

"Then you’ll move the consignment at that hour. Make sure everything is transported before sunrise. We cannot afford any delays."

Varek looked uncertain but nodded.

"And what about my payment?" he asked cautiously.

"I’ve already paid you half," Davis replied impatiently. "You’ll receive the remaining half once the job is done. Until then, make sure the consignment stays untouched."

Varek nodded again, seemingly satisfied with the arrangement.

Above them, August’s expression grew colder as he listened. Davis intended to move the contraband as soon as the curfew ended, giving them only a few hours to act.

"Let’s leave for now. Return here in the morning and finish the job," Davis instructed Varek before walking out of the stable with him.

August and Samir remained hidden until the sound of their footsteps had faded into the distance. Only then did they emerge from the shadows and make their way down from the upper level.

Samir glanced toward the stable entrance before turning to August.

"What should we do now, Your Highness?"

"We’ll remove the consignment from here," August replied without hesitation. "Bring our most trusted soldiers. I want this entire place secured before Davis has a chance to return."

A faint smirk appeared on his face as he considered what awaited the unsuspecting criminal the following morning.

"By the time Davis arrives, he’ll be shocked to discover that the profit he’s been dreaming of has vanished."

Samir couldn’t help smiling at the thought of Davis’s reaction.

"I’ll arrange for the soldiers immediately, Your Highness."

"Good. Make sure no one connected to Davis learns what we’re doing tonight. I want the consignment removed without alerting the rest of his men."

"Rest assured, Your Highness. This time we will not fail and this network will burst," Samir replied with assurance.

~~~~~

Damian yawned as he finally switched off the lamp beside his bed. He had been struggling to sleep properly ever since Eilika had left the estate.

Although the nightmares that had once tormented him had stopped long ago, he still found himself restless at night in Eilika’s absence. No matter how tired he was, something seemed to keep him from falling into a peaceful sleep.

After lying awake for some time, he finally gave up and got out of bed. He put on a thick coat before leaving his chamber and making his way to the porch.

The moment he stepped outside, the sight of the snow-covered grounds greeted him. A bitterly cold wind swept across the estate, carrying the chill of the winter night. Damian stood near the entrance, gazing at the white landscape as the icy air brushed against his face, turning his cheeks red.

He pulled his coat closer around himself but made no move to return inside.

"What’s wrong with me?" he murmured, his breath forming a faint cloud in the freezing air. "I thought I’d finally gotten better."

He had believed that overcoming his nightmares would allow him to return to his usual routine, yet his nights had become difficult again.

"Your Grace, why are you awake at this hour?" Maurice’s voice came from behind him.

Damian immediately turned around and looked at his trusted attendant.

"Maurice, I was about to ask you the same question."

"I was reading a few documents and lost track of time, so I remained awake longer than I intended," Maurice explained. "But Your Grace retired to bed two hours ago. Why are you still awake?"

"I couldn’t fall asleep," Damian replied, his gaze drifting toward the snow-covered grounds outside.

Maurice glanced down and noticed that Damian was standing barefoot on the cold floor. Without wasting another moment, he took hold of the Duke’s arm and gently led him back inside.

Once they were away from the freezing air, Maurice removed his own slippers and knelt before Damian. He placed them in front of his master’s feet, looking up at him with the same concern an elder brother might show a younger one.

"Put them on, Your Grace. You can’t afford to fall ill in this weather," he instructed.

Damian looked down at him, momentarily speechless at the sight of his trusted attendant kneeling before him to offer his own slippers.

"Maurice, you don’t have to—"

"Please put them on first," Maurice interrupted firmly. "You can scold me afterward if you wish, but I’m not going to let you stand barefoot on a freezing floor."

Damian let out a quiet sigh, knowing better than to argue with him when he was in this mood. He slipped his feet into the slippers, while Maurice rose to his feet and straightened his clothes.

"Now, tell me, Your Grace, what’s troubling you?"

"I don’t know. I just feel restless," Damian replied, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Your Grace may be under too much stress because of work," Maurice suggested. "When was the last time you took a proper vacation? You spend nearly every waking hour attending to your duties. You hardly give yourself a chance to rest."

"That’s not true," Damian said, shaking his head. "It’s not about work." He paused, searching for the right words before continuing, "I think I’m just feeling lonely. I mean..." He hesitated, his gaze falling to the floor. "Sometimes, I feel as though I’ll end up alone in the end."

Maurice’s expression changed. He frowned slightly, trying to understand what had brought on such a thought.

"What do you mean by that, Your Grace?"

"Strange thoughts, right? Maurice, good night. I’ll be better if I sleep now. Don’t ask anything. It’s hard for me to explain," Damian asserted and walked upstairs after removing the slippers that Maurice had provided him.