Fourth Arc (Thorns of The Black Throne) - 480. Visiting The Market I
The moment split open.
Roric felt it.
Now.
He stepped forward, voice steady, formal, carrying just enough volume to sound official.
"Your Majesties," he said, bowing slightly toward Angel and Rose, "it is customary for Pontus royalty to provide escort for visiting sovereigns when they travel within the capital."
Angel turned toward him, eyes sharp but unreadable.
Rose smiled gently, as if this were expected.
"If it pleases you," Roric continued, "I would be honored to accompany you during your visit to the city."
Seraphine's head turned slowly.
Roric kept his posture rigid. Respectful. Loyal. Predictable.
Inside, his heart hammered like war drums.
He wasn't just offering an escort.
He was stepping onto a battlefield he didn't fully understand.
And for the first time in years…
He was choosing his side. Not just following order.
Angel glanced to Seraphine.
It was subtle. Barely a shift of his gaze. A predator measuring wind direction before moving. Roric saw it. Saw the calculation in that dark, steady stare. Angel wasn't sure whether Seraphine had caught the exchange. Whether she heard Roric's formal offer clearly enough to question it later.
But Angel understood.
He knew.
Roric wasn't bold. He wasn't reckless. He was reaching out with trembling hands behind a mask of protocol.
Angel gave him only a nod.
No words.
No agreement spoken aloud.
Just acknowledgment.
Roric returned the nod just as quietly. His face did not move beyond that. His expression remained neutral, obedient, composed. The prince Pontus expected.
He let Angel, Rose, and Jane walk ahead of him down the corridor.
He even slowed his pace slightly, allowing distance to grow between them. It would look strange if he hovered too close.
Seraphine's heels clicked sharply against marble as she turned away with Darius. Roric did not look back. He did not need to. He felt her presence like cold metal pressed against the base of his skull.
Pretend.
He veered off down a side corridor instead of following directly.
A detour.
It was risky. If a servant reported his direction change, questions would follow. But he needed to reach the entrance separately. Needed to ensure no shadow trailed him.
The corridor he chose was narrower, lined with tall arched windows overlooking the inner courtyard. Sunlight poured through them, scattering golden dust across the polished stone floor. He walked calmly. Not too fast. Not too slow.
A pair of junior guards passed him and saluted. He returned the gesture without breaking stride.
At the corner near the stairwell, he paused briefly, listening.
Footsteps above. Voices somewhere distant. Nothing immediate behind him.
He descended.
By the time he reached the lower hall near the castle entrance, his pulse had steadied again.
And then he saw them.
Angel stood near the main gate, posture relaxed but alert. Rose beside him. Jane just behind, her eyes scanning the courtyard nervously.
And in front of them…
Darius's assistant.
The old hawk. Thin, precise, perpetually unimpressed. The kind of man who existed solely to enforce Darius's will without drawing attention to himself.
Roric froze behind a column, half-hidden in shadow.
The assistant was speaking in that dry, official tone.
"His Majesty insists upon proper escort," he was saying. "It would reflect poorly on Pontus if visiting royalty wandered unaccompanied."
Roric's jaw tightened.
If Angel agreed, it was over.
An official escort meant extra guards. Meant Seraphine's eyes in every alley. Meant no chance for private words.
Angel listened without expression.
Rose remained serene.
Jane looked uncomfortable.
Then Angel replied.
"No need."
Just that.
No apology. No explanation.
The assistant blinked.
Angel continued, voice smooth, almost bored.
"We are not here for spectacle. We intend to walk the streets as any other noble foreigners might. No banners. No formal insignia. We prefer quiet observation."
The assistant hesitated.
"That is… unconventional."
Angel tilted his head slightly. Not threatening. Not aggressive. Just firm.
"I trust Pontus does not fear its own streets."
A silence.
Roric almost smiled.
The assistant cleared his throat. "Very well. I will inform His Majesty."
He bowed stiffly and turned away.
Roric exhaled slowly behind the column.
Angel had cleared the path.
A carriage waited near the gates. Not extravagant. Not marked with Euphorion's sigil. Simple enough to pass as belonging to minor visiting nobles.
Rose stepped in first. Jane followed.
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