"Tell the prince his favourite spy is here to deliver some juicy information," the figure in black whisper-shouted with a grin, arms casually draped across the hallway arch. The sky outside was inky with stars, the kind of quiet only late night could offer — which did nothing to soften Rion's voice that was anything but quiet.

The guard at Prince Kori's door visibly tensed. "His Highness is currently with Lord Raymond. He has asked not to be disturbed." His lip curled. "So, unless you want to get whipped again for disobedience, mutt, take it back and come tomorrow."

That name again. Raymond.

Rion tilted his head, grin sharpening. "You always say the nicest things." But he was already cataloging the pattern — late-night visits, closed doors, hushed meetings. The mysterious visitor hadn't been around that long, but he was starting to leave a smell. One that Rion didn't like.

He turned to leave, giving the guard a two-fingered salute. "Fine. But do send my regards to the prince. I'll be back before he starts missing me."

As Rion rounded the corner, he spotted Yijun, his contact and the man that had entered the castle along with him, leaning by the window alcove, arms crossed.

"That man has been in the prince's chambers for far too long," Yijun muttered, stepping in beside him. "Suspicious. Also, you never told me you had a run-in with the royal mage?"

Rion's grin dimmed just a bit. "Wasn't much, just a few minutes. Eyes like lightning. Why, got something?"  He recalled the weird feeling of chills running up his arms when the man in the veil waved his hands in a weaving gesture and called it extraction of poison.

"Not yet. Rumours are making rounds though. They say he wears a veil to protect others from the curse of his beauty. Others call him a brutal killer who drinks blood to sustain his prodigy status. None of them are based in fact, however. Every noble figure has a few stories shrouding them, but I don't like what I'm not finding," Yijun said. "Which is a lot."

Before Rion could reply, bootsteps echoed behind them.

"Wait."

They both turned. The guard who'd just insulted him now looked nervous. "His Highness... will see you."

Well. That wasn't suspicious at all.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Prince Kori didn't look up from his crystal glass of wine as Rion stepped in. He sat languidly by the hearth, firelight gilding the edges of his gold-threaded robe. Lord Raymond stood by the bookshelf, unassuming in appearance — plain brown hair, brown eyes — but his gaze was alert, dissecting.

"My little shadow returns," Kori drawled. "Did you bring me something good?"

"Always," Rion said, sweeping into a mock bow. "Though I wasn't expecting an audience. I hope I'm not interrupting something intimate."

Raymond didn't react, but Kori's smile curved with warning. "You're lucky I'm in a generous mood."

"Lucky's my middle name."

"Really? I thought 'Disobedience.' suited you more." Kori stood, slow and languid like a cat, glass in hand. He walked past Rion, letting silence draw out just long enough to sting. "Speak."

Rion kept his tone breezy, each word deliberate — the kind of half-truths that grew teeth. A whisper of intercepted letters between two noble houses. A vague suggestion of unrest in the east. Nothing concrete, but just enough to prod at Kori's paranoia and let it fester.

When he finished, Raymond gave a faint smile. "You do have a talent for finding the exact kind of news that keeps the court on edge."

Rion met his gaze. "Some might call it well-informed." Then his serious gaze broke into a grin, the atmosphere turning lighthearted once again. "What can I say? I'm considerate like that — always thinking of everyone's blood pressure."

The prince chuckled. "Enough, both of you. You've done well, boy. For now."

Rion was going to turn to leave, but the events of that afternoon stopped him, his curiosity speaking before his brain could interfere. "Your Highness, did your plan to poison the princess go as expected? Or did you, perhaps, forget to account for the royal mage's quick reaction?" 

Then realising that he sounded rather accusatory, he softened the statement as if speaking with concern. " I imagine he'll be reporting the incident to the emperor any moment now."

Pin drop silence followed, and Rion could almost hear the sound of his own heart speedily thumping.

 "Shouldn't you send him to get whipped, Kori?" Raymond's voice broke the silence, still calm but edged with something dangerous. "He has quite a tongue on him. I think his presence would be more pleasant without one on him."

"Believe me, Ray, I am considering it myself. Whips just don't seem to dull his tone though. And he is too useful a piece to dispose of so soon. I invested a considerable amount in him when I bought him from the slavery house, after all."

Rion fought back the involuntary grimace as Kori sipped his drink. The wine was expensive, no doubt; Rion could probably live off it for two months. A pity, really, that such resources were being wasted on someone like Kori.

He suppressed the ache in his legs from kneeling too long. The physical discomfort was nothing compared to the constant tension in the air. But then, Kori's hand was on him, his nails digging into the sides of his face, forcing Rion to look up.

"I didn't poison that discarded disappointment," Kori muttered, his voice low and dangerous. "As for who did, I'd like to know as well... I do have a sneaking suspicion already though. Mother has been awfully quiet as of late."

Kori's words sounded bored border lining frustration and fatigue; The prince wasn't just angry — he was playing a game, one where the princess was being pushed and pulled along to Kori's rhythm.

"Did she die?" Kori asked with a sneer, snatching a napkin from Raymond and cleaning his hands delicately, with poise many etiquette teachers would be proud of.

"Unfortunately, not," Rion replied, massaging his chin, which was starting to bruise. "The guard interfered and ordered me to call for the mage. I had to do what he said to avoid suspicion."

Rion's mind flashed back to that moment with the mage. Cahir's eyes — electric blue, sharp, like he could see straight through Rion's carefully constructed façade. What had the mage seen? Was he just being cautious, or had he caught something Rion hadn't expected? The feeling of being exposed was a constant companion, but admitting suspicion to Kori would only bring death.

"Continue working for her," Kori ordered, his eyes narrowing with that characteristic coldness. "She pretends to be harmless, but I'm sure she has something up her sleeve. Her lack of interest in the Heir trials just ends up unnerving me more."

Rion bowed, masking his expression with a veneer of faux reverence. The prince's grimace only deepened, as if he could sense Rion's growing difficulty in holding back but didn't quite understand its depth.

"I will continue as before then. Farewell, my prince."

Rion inclined his head, stepping back toward the door.

"Oh," Kori added, swirling the wine in his glass, "and Rion?"

He paused.

"Keep your nose out of things that don't concern you. We both know my patience wears thin too soon."

His smile flickered—briefly stiffening—before easing back into place. With a graceful bow, Rion murmured his farewell, "I'd hate to see my prince displeased."

He left, mentally noting down the fact that he might not have much more time. Prince Kori seemed to be keeping tabs on him. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟