Chapter 50: When Duty Outweighs Hatred

We traveled farther toward Agran.

And farther.

And then farther again, because apparently whoever designed kingdoms had never heard of putting important destinations closer together.

The road stretched beneath the carriage in an endless ribbon of packed earth and stone, bending through forests, farmland, rolling hills, and the occasional settlement where everyone stopped whatever they were doing to stare at the royal carriage passing through.

Which was understandable.

Subtlety had died the moment somebody painted the golden lion of Inizio across both sides of our transportation.

The knights rode around us in disciplined formation.

Some ahead.

Some behind.

Others along the sides.

Weapons visible.

Eyes constantly moving.

The farther we traveled from the capital, the more alert they became.

Yesterday, the journey had felt mostly ceremonial.

Today?

Different.

We were approaching the border.

And now that both Viar and Treez had warned me about people who might prefer diplomacy to die in a ditch before reaching Agran, every suspicious tree suddenly looked employed.

By early afternoon, sunlight hung almost directly overhead.

The weather remained clear, although clouds had begun gathering in thin streaks farther east.

Inside the carriage, Leyra and I had already started discussing where we would stop for the night.

Or rather, Leyra had started discussing practical travel plans.

I had been participating by occasionally nodding and pretending I understood the map upside down.

There was a town ahead.

Close to the border.

Large enough to have proper inns, food, guards, and hopefully beds that did not regard human spines as personal enemies.

We were almost there when the carriage abruptly slowed.

I felt the change immediately.

Leyra looked up from the document she had been reading.

Outside came the sound of horses stopping.

Then one knight called something to another.

No shouting.

No swords being drawn.

That was good.

Probably.

I leaned toward the window.

Several riders had emerged onto the road ahead of us.

White horses.

Not ordinary ones.

Royal magical horses.

The same kind used by Inizio’s higher ranking knights.

Their riders wore familiar armor.

They had not charged.

They had simply positioned themselves across the road in a clear barrier.

Visible.

Deliberate.

Nonhostile.

Still inconvenient.

I frowned.

“Friends?”

Leyra leaned toward her own window.

Her eyes narrowed.

Then she recognized someone.

“Oh.”

That was either excellent or terrible.

“Who?”

She looked at me.

“Lord Garren.”

Of course.

Because when your diplomatic trip was going suspiciously smoothly, the universe eventually sent the councilman who openly hated the kingdom you were traveling toward.

I opened the carriage door.

A knight outside immediately moved closer.

“Sir Caled.”

“Relax.”

I stepped down.

Leyra followed after me.

The afternoon air felt warmer outside the carriage, carrying the scent of dry road dust and nearby trees.

Ahead, the mounted group remained still.

At the front sat Lord Garren.

Scarred face.

Hard expression.

The same man whose unauthorized attack on Agranian travelers had helped push two kingdoms toward war in the first place.

Naturally, he had reached this region before us.

Flying magical horses were much faster than carriages.

Especially carriages carrying a crown princess, luggage, diplomatic documents, escort knights, and enough royal preparation to survive civilization collapsing halfway there.

Garren swung down from his horse.

His boots hit the road.

He approached us alone.

No weapon in hand.

No aggression.

When he reached an appropriate distance, he bowed.

“Your Highness.”

Then toward me.

“Sir Caled.”

Leyra inclined her head.

“Lord Garren.”

I returned the greeting.

“Lord Garren.”

He looked past us toward the carriage.

Then toward the road leading ahead.

“I assume you intend to stay in the next town.”

Leyra’s expression became more guarded.

“That was our plan.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Why?”

Garren looked at the knights around us.

Then at his own men.

His jaw tightened.

“First, forgive me for stopping your party without warning.”

Leyra waited.

“I had no intention of causing trouble.”

I almost commented that Garren and causing trouble had an established relationship.

I chose survival.

Barely.

He continued.

“There is information I believe you both need before crossing farther east.”

Leyra folded her hands.

“Then tell us.”

Garren hesitated.

That alone got my attention.

This man did not seem like somebody who hesitated unless the alternative involved swallowing broken glass.

His gaze moved across the road.

The knights.

The trees.

Even the carriage driver.

Then he shook his head.

“Not here.”

Leyra’s eyes sharpened.

“Why?”

“Too many ears.”

I glanced around.

Mostly our people.

Garren apparently did not care.

“I cannot risk this traveling farther than it already has.”

Interesting.

Leyra looked at me.

I shrugged slightly.

Whatever he knew, he had flown all the way here to deliver it personally.

Might as well hear him out.

We continued into the town ahead.

Its name was Gisda.

And the moment we entered, I noticed the difference.

The towns deeper inside Inizio had been overwhelmingly shaped by Inizio’s culture.

Golden lion emblems.

Architecture similar to the capital.

Lionkin customs mixed among other Beastkin populations.

Gisda was different.

Border towns had apparently decided cultural identity was more of a buffet.

A Tigerkin merchant argued over fruit prices with a Lionkin woman at one stall.

Two signs hung over a nearby tavern, each written in a different regional style.

Clothing varied more.

Some people wore fashions I had seen in Inizio.

Others had patterns and cuts I assumed came from Agran.

Spices from food stands mixed together in unfamiliar scents.

Even the buildings showed it.

Inizio-style white stone beside darker timber structures decorated with striped carvings and painted geometric patterns.

The border didn't feel like a clean line separating two civilizations.

It felt like both kingdoms had been slowly leaking into each other for generations.

Which made the idea of war even more ridiculous.

How did you neatly hate people whose food, clothes, trade, families, and accents had already blended together?

Humans had spent thousands of years trying to answer that question with increasingly expensive weapons, so apparently even that transcended worlds.

Our knights secured another inn.

Entire building.

Again.

Being royalty meant never hearing the phrase, “Sorry, we're fully booked.”

Within an hour, Leyra, Garren, and I were seated privately inside one of the larger upstairs rooms.

A small sitting area occupied one side.

Two sofas faced each other across a low wooden table.

Leyra sat beside me.

Garren sat opposite.

The shutters were closed.

Two guards stood outside the room.

Nobody else was allowed in.

Garren leaned forward, forearms resting against his knees.

“I’ve received information from Agranians passing through this region.”

I stared at him.

That sentence contained several surprises.

“You?”

His eyes narrowed.

“Yes.”

“Receiving information from Agranians.”

“Yes.”

“Voluntarily.”

Garren's expression flattened.

“I know what you are implying.”

“I'm making sure I heard correctly.”

Leyra glanced at me.

I smiled innocently.

Garren exhaled.

“I paid for it.”

Ah.

There it was.

The ancient universal language.

Money.

I nodded.

“That makes more sense.”

Garren looked offended that I had apparently doubted capitalism.

“I have people along the border.”

“Informants?”

“Some.”

“Merchants?”

“Among others.”

His expression hardened.

“Information crosses borders even when armies do not.”

True.

Especially here.

With travelers from both kingdoms moving through Gisda regularly, rumors could cross before official messengers even saddled horses.

I leaned back.

“I was mostly curious whether you had suddenly started sharing drinks with Agranian travelers.”

Garren's jaw tightened.

“Do not push your luck.”

Leyra sighed softly.

I smiled.

“Worth checking.”

Garren looked at both of us.

Then said, “Before you question my motives, understand something.”

Here we go.

“I still believe negotiating with Agran is a mistake.”

Leyra's expression remained calm.

“I assumed as much.”

“I would rather see Inizio answer strength with strength.”

Naturally.

Garren's scar seemed deeper when his face tightened.

“And I still despise Agranians.”

He said it with impressive commitment.

Not dislike.

Not distrust.

Despise.

The man had upgraded prejudice into a full-time profession.

“I hate them.”

He paused.

“Very much.”

I looked at Leyra.

Leyra looked at me.

Neither of us needed clarification.

Garren continued.

“But I will not sabotage this mission simply because I disagree with it.”

That mattered.

Quite a lot.

Leyra leaned forward slightly.

“Then what did you learn?”

Garren's attention shifted fully toward her.

“Several Agranian nobles have started moving against you.”

The room became quieter.

There it was.

Not speculation.

Not general warning.

Something specific.

I stopped smiling.

“What kind of movement?”

“Hiring people.”

I already disliked the answer.

“Soldiers?”

“No.”

Worse.

“Cutthroats.”

Leyra's eyes narrowed.

Garren continued.

“Mercenaries.”

“Bandits.”

“Assassins.”

He gave a small shrug.

“The title changes depending on how much someone is willing to pay.”

I leaned forward.

“The target?”

Garren looked directly at us.

“Your delegation.”

Well.

Nice to feel important.

Leyra's voice stayed controlled.

“You're certain?”

“I would not have flown here personally if I wasn't.”

Fair.

“How many?”

Garren's expression darkened.

“Enough that I would expect your journey to become significantly more eventful.”

I sighed.

“Everyone keeps using that word around me.”

Leyra looked at me.

“What word?”

“Eventful.”

I pointed vaguely toward the window.

“Whenever somebody tells me things are about to become eventful, it usually means someone plans to stab me.”

Garren ignored that.

“Numbers vary between reports.”

He leaned back.

“But this is not one small group.”

I frowned.

“Multiple hired parties?”

“Potentially.”

That was worse.

One coordinated enemy could be predicted.

Several groups with different employers and different plans?

Messy.

“Do you think Firsa knows?”

Garren's face changed instantly.

There it was.

The hatred.

He didn't even need several seconds to summon it.

“I hate that queen.”

Leyra sighed.

I waited.

Garren continued.

“But no.”

That surprised me slightly.

He tapped two fingers against his knee.

“I do not believe Queen Firsa ordered this.”

Interesting.

“Why?”

Garren's mouth twisted.

“Agran may be filled with savages…”

Leyra closed her eyes briefly.

Here we go.

“…but their queen is at least slightly more civilized than many of the nobles beneath her.”

I stared.

“That might be the nicest thing you've ever said about an Agranian.”

“Do not make me regret it.”

“Too late. I'm documenting the moment emotionally.”

Garren ignored me.

“If Firsa had agreed to receive you only to arrange your murder on the road, then reopening negotiations would have been pointless.”

Logical.

“She could simply refuse the audience.”

“Yes.”

He looked toward Leyra.

“And killing the crown princess during an official peace mission would guarantee war.”

That was also logical.

Even someone who wanted war would need to be spectacularly stupid to do it that way.

Garren continued.

“This feels like nobles acting for themselves.”

“Why?”

“Power.”

There it was.

“Some have positions they could lose if peace changes the border situation.”

He counted on his fingers.

“Some profit from the conflict.”

“Some simply hate Inizio.”

“Some may believe preventing negotiations gives them influence with other factions.”

Human nature.

Different ears.

Same disease.

Garren's expression hardened further.

“The fact that Firsa is less intolerable than some of the animals serving beneath her does not mean she controls every greedy noble in Agran.”

I scratched my cheek.

“You almost completed an entire explanation without insulting their whole kingdom.”

“I have limits.”

“I noticed.”

Leyra gave me a warning glance.

Probably stop poking the scarred war enthusiast while he was helping us.

Fine.

I returned my attention to Garren.

“Thank you.”

His eyebrows rose.

“For what?”

“Flying here.”

“Warning us.”

“And apparently spending your own money bribing people you hate.”

Garren leaned back.

“I did not do it for you.”

“Still counts.”

“I did it for Inizio.”

“Also counts.”

He looked irritated by my gratitude.

Excellent.

Then he looked toward Leyra.

“I heard the reports from Dahera.”

His gaze shifted to me.

“They say you are powerful.”

I smiled.

“People say many flattering things.”

“They say you fought Remgar.”

“Yes.”

“And defeated him.”

“He took a nap afterward.”

Garren's eyes narrowed.

“They also say you engaged Treez.”

“She hugged a tree.”

Leyra covered the smallest smile.

Garren ignored the jokes.

“Then use that strength.”

His voice hardened.

“Protect the princess at any cost.”

The humor slipped away for a second.

“I will.”

He nodded.

No argument.

No question.

Apparently my answer satisfied him.

“Our concerns have become reality.”

He looked toward the shuttered window.

“There is no longer any way to prevent hostile factions from moving.”

Leyra's brow furrowed.

“We can alter the route.”

“They may already know multiple possibilities.”

“Increase guards?”

“That may help.”

Garren nodded.

“But too large an escort sends the wrong message once you cross into Agran.”

There was the diplomatic problem again.

Travel with too few soldiers and assassins got excited.

Travel with too many and Queen Firsa might wonder why peace negotiations arrived looking like a parade preparing to invade her garden.

“So we react,” I said.

Garren looked at me.

“Yes.”

“Watch the roads.”

“Yes.”

“Watch the towns.”

“Yes.”

“Assume anyone suspicious is suspicious.”

Garren's expression remained flat.

“That is generally how suspicion works.”

“I like being thorough.”

He stood.

Conversation apparently finished.

I watched him adjust his coat.

For a man who had practically helped ignite this entire crisis, he was being surprisingly helpful.

I couldn't stop myself.

“Garren.”

He paused.

Looked at me.

“I have to admit something.”

His face immediately suggested he expected an insult.

“Of everyone on the council…”

I smiled slightly.

“…you're probably the last person I expected to fly across Inizio and warn us about threats that might improve our chance of succeeding.”

Leyra watched him too.

Garren went still.

Then his expression became colder.

“I believe you misunderstand me.”

“Possible.”

“I hate Agranians.”

“You've mentioned.”

“I hate their nobles.”

“Also mentioned.”

“I hate much of their kingdom.”

“Extensively established.”

His jaw tightened.

“But I love mine.”

That silenced me.

Garren looked toward Leyra.

Not the crown princess as a political piece.

A future ruler.

His future ruler.

“I will not sacrifice the life of Inizio’s future queen merely to satisfy my desire for war.”

Leyra's expression softened slightly.

Garren looked at me next.

“Nor will I throw away the life of a Spriggan diplomat who currently represents our best chance of resolving this mess.”

Interesting.

Then he added, almost reluctantly, “No matter how much I would enjoy finally marching against Agran.”

There he was.

I nodded slowly.

“So you're responsible enough to prioritize the kingdom over what you personally want.”

Garren's stare became harder.

“That is what a council member is supposed to do.”

Someone should have told Balder.

I did not say that aloud.

Garren's hand rose.

His fingers touched the scar running across his face.

The gesture looked unconscious.

Familiar.

Something he had probably done thousands of times.

His voice lowered.

“Inizio has greedy nobles.”

Leyra watched him carefully.

“Treacherous ones.”

His fingers remained against the scar.

“Agran has the same.”

My attention sharpened.

Then he said, “One of theirs betrayed me once.”

There it was.

Not enough information to understand.

Enough to explain that his hatred was not entirely theoretical.

Leyra's expression changed.

Not surprise exactly.

Perhaps she already knew pieces.

I didn't.

Garren lowered his hand.

“But that is personal.”

He looked toward the door.

“Not the kingdom’s concern.”

Then he paused.

“For now.”

Interesting phrase.

Very interesting phrase.

I opened my mouth.

Garren already started walking.

Message received.

No explanation.

Not today.

He opened the door.

The guards outside straightened.

Without looking back, Garren left the room.

The door closed behind him.

Silence.

I stared at it.

Then leaned back against the sofa.

“Well.”

Leyra turned toward me.

“What?”

I looked at her.

“I think I'm starting to like him.”

Leyra laughed softly.

“I was wondering when that would happen.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

She relaxed slightly now that the meeting was finished.

“Lord Garren is actually one of the easier council members for me to deal with.”

I stared.

“Garren?”

“Yes.”

“The man who looks like smiling might violate military law?”

Leyra smiled.

“He is direct.”

Fair.

“He usually tells you exactly what he thinks.”

Also fair.

“And if he gives his word on something concerning Inizio, he takes it seriously.”

That aligned with what I had just seen.

Leyra added, “He is much easier to work with than people expect.”

I nodded.

Then lifted one finger.

“As long as Agran isn't involved.”

Leyra sighed.

“As long as Agran isn't involved.”

“So he has one problem.”

“One enormous problem.”

“One kingdom-sized problem.”

“Yes.”

“Very manageable.”

“It really isn't.”

I smiled.

Leyra shook her head.

Then her hand moved across the cushion between us.

Her fingers found mine.

Gentle.

Warm.

She intertwined them.

The serious mood slowly changed.

I looked down at our hands.

Then at her.

Leyra smiled.

“How about we eat dinner?”

“That sounds suspiciously normal.”

“And afterward…”

There it was.

I knew that tone.

“…we go somewhere.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You have somewhere in mind?”

Leyra nodded.

“I heard about a place outside town.”

“Dangerous opening.”

“A waterfall.”

Less dangerous.

“So?”

Her blue eyes brightened.

“At night, thousands of fireflies gather above the water.”

I pictured it.

Waterfall.

Forest.

Night.

Thousands of glowing insects.

Actually sounded beautiful.

Leyra squeezed my hand.

“We could go there.”

“Sightseeing?”

Her smile turned mischievous.

“And perhaps do something fun while we're watching.”

Ah.

There she was.

I leaned toward her.

“Something fun?”

Leyra's cheeks gained the faintest pink color.

But unlike before, she didn't retreat from it.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

I laughed.

“Princess, I'm shocked.”

“No, you're not.”

“Deeply shocked.”

“Liar.”

“Fair.”

Then I glanced toward the door.

“We have guards.”

Leyra tilted her head.

“And?”

“Quite a lot of them.”

She smiled.

“Have you already forgotten who you're traveling with?”

I looked at her.

Leyra leaned closer.

“I am very good at sneaking out.”

Right.

Secret underground champion.

Years of leaving the castle without her family discovering she was spending her evenings beating professional fighters unconscious.

Compared with that, escaping an inn guarded by knights was probably recreational.

I laughed.

“I wasn't worried we'd get caught leaving.”

Leyra's eyebrows lifted.

“No?”

“I'm worried about what happens after.”

“What do you mean?”

I gestured toward the door.

“The crown princess and the diplomat disappear from a border-town inn while assassins are supposedly roaming the region.”

Leyra paused.

I continued.

“How long before the knights start overturning tables?”

Her smile twitched.

“Five minutes?”

“Generous.”

“Three?”

“Better.”

She laughed softly.

“They'll survive.”

“Probably.”

“And so will we.”

“Also probably.”

Leyra watched me.

I knew that expression.

She was planning something.

Then she leaned forward.

Her lips touched mine.

Brief.

Soft.

Teasing.

Barely long enough to qualify as a kiss before she pulled back.

I stared.

Leyra smiled innocently.

“I didn't realize you were such an obedient man.”

I narrowed my eyes.

She continued.

“I always thought you were the sort of person who did whatever seemed fun.”

There it was.

Attack detected.

“Apparently I was mistaken.”

I stared at her.

She tilted her head.

Perfect princess smile.

Weaponized.

“You care so much about what the knights might think.”

I sighed.

Leyra's smile widened.

“You're very responsible.”

“Stop.”

“And cautious.”

“Princess.”

“And obedient.”

“That one was unnecessary.”

She laughed.

I looked at our joined hands.

Then at her face.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

And worse?

It was working.

I sighed again.

Then smiled.

“Congratulations.”

Leyra's eyebrows lifted.

“For what?”

I leaned closer.

“You just convinced me to do something troublesome.”