Eric sat inside the carriage, the soft creak of its movement blending with the rhythmic clop of hooves outside. Drac rode his horse beside the carriage, maintaining an even pace, his posture relaxed yet alert, eyes occasionally sweeping the road ahead.

Eric had only general knowledge of the Earldom of Castermere—information gathered during his lessons with Marquis Fairisles. It was a small territory, made up of no more than five villages, lying to the southwest of the capital. One of several modest lands that stretched southward, yet remained far from the coastline where the great port cities held sway.

Castermere had once been under the Marquisate of Glines.

The disappearance of the Marquis and the subsequent exile of his family had left a quiet vacuum. With no higher authority to report to, the smaller territories had been forced to endure their troubles alone—whatever those troubles might be.

Eric’s gaze lingered on the passing scenery outside the carriage window, his expression distant.

Drac noticed.

He guided his horse a little closer and glanced toward the carriage.

"What’s wrong?" he asked.

Eric blinked, pulled back from his thoughts, and let out a slow breath. He opened the latch and folded his arms over the sill, resting his chin atop them as the wind brushed against his face.

"I wonder what trouble they’re facing," he said quietly.

Drac hummed in acknowledgment.

"It’s a good agricultural territory," Eric continued. "There’s no record of disputes, no history of unrest that would require outside intervention. I can’t help but wonder... what changed."

Drac nodded once. "A lack of history doesn’t guarantee a peaceful future."

Eric chuckled softly. "They’re not exactly fighting Drac... at least, I don’t think so."

Drac’s brows twitched suddenly.

He turned his head, eyes sharpening as he glanced behind them, his posture subtly shifting. Eric noticed the change immediately.

"What is it?" Eric asked.

Drac looked again, then relaxed. "Some pests were following us."

Eric craned his neck, trying to peer down the road behind them. "Pests?"

"They’ve already been taken care of," Drac added calmly, as though discussing nothing more than an inconvenience along the road.

Eric laughed under his breath and settled back against the carriage window, resting his cheek on his folded arms. "We really can always trust Master to watch our backs."

The corner of Drac’s lips twitched upward—just barely—into a fleeting smile. Eric caught it and felt a quiet sense of ease settle over him as the breeze played with his hair.

Drac kept pace beside the carriage, steady and unhurried.

"Hey, Drac," Eric called out after a moment.

Drac glanced at him. "What is it?"

"Are you seeing someone?" Eric asked, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

Drac tilted his head, genuinely confused. "I am seeing you."

Eric burst into laughter. "Not like that. I mean—are you interested in someone? A girl, maybe?"

Drac considered the question seriously, his gaze drifting ahead before he shook his head. "No."

Eric leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "Or is it a man?"

Drac rolled his eyes, which only made Eric laugh harder. He offered no further response, simply continuing to ride alongside the carriage.

Drac knew of Eric’s relationship with the Queen of Mordino. Though kept discreet, it had Ocean’s approval—and that alone made it significant. If Master Ocean approved, then it wasn’t merely romance. It was strategy. Future. Design.

Watching Eric now, calm and thoughtful despite the weight awaiting him, Drac couldn’t help but suspect that Eric’s fate extended far beyond the title of King.

With the way Ocean was moving his pieces... something much larger was being set into motion.

"Hey, Drac." Eric called and Drac blinked coming back the the present.

"Hm?"

Eric smiled, a boyish vulnerable smile the he would only give to the people he felt really safe with.

"When you do get a person like that, let me know, all right? I’ll support you!" He said making Drac’s eyes go wide for a moment before he turned his head.

"Hm." He hummed making Eric grin.

The knights assigned to supervise the Trial observed Prince Eric quietly as the convoy moved along the road. He appeared at ease, conversing casually with his personal guard instead of retreating into silence or formality.

Castermere was not far from the capital. At a steady pace, the journey took no more than five hours.

By the time they reached the town, evening had begun to settle in, though daylight still lingered in the sky. The streets were already lined with people who had gathered to welcome Prince Eric and his escort.

Eric smiled openly and raised his hand in greeting as the carriage rolled past. Murmurs followed in its wake—curiosity, relief, cautious hope.

"I wish I were riding a horse," Eric remarked lightly, leaning toward the open window. "It’s much better that way."

Drac, riding alongside the carriage, glanced at him. "You would say that."

Soon, the convoy arrived at the Earl’s residence.

The mansion of Earl Thaddeus Castermere was modest by noble standards—two storeys tall, with no more than twenty rooms. It was well-kept, practical, and unpretentious, much like the territory itself.

As the carriage came to a stop, Eric immediately noticed the figures waiting outside.

The Earl stood at the forefront with his family and household personnel gathered behind him.

Eric stepped down from the carriage and approached.

Earl Thaddeus appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He had deep purple hair and striking green eyes, his posture upright but not rigid. Beside him stood his wife, her short brown hair neatly arranged, pink eyes warm and observant.

Three children accompanied them.

A girl stood close to the Earl—she bore his deep purple hair and her mother’s large pink eyes. Near their mother were the twin boys, each with a mop of curly brown hair and the same bright green eyes as their father, clinging to her gown with barely restrained excitement.

"Welcome to Castermere, Your Highness," Thaddeus said.

Both he and his wife bowed and curtsied.

Eric smiled. "Please, rise."

They straightened, and Thaddeus placed a hand over his chest. "I am Thaddeus Castermere," he said, then gestured to his side. "And this is my wife, Chelsea."

Eric stepped forward. Chelsea offered her hand, and he placed a gentle kiss upon her knuckles before stepping back respectfully.

Thaddeus then gestured toward the girl standing beside him. "This is my daughter, Lysanne."

Lysanne curtsied gracefully. Eric followed proper etiquette, taking her hand and kissing it lightly.

Behind him, Drac observed her in silence.

There was something about the girl—something familiar. Not in appearance, but in presence. The quiet grace, the tranquility that seemed to settle naturally around her.

For a fleeting moment, it felt to Drac as though he were glimpsing his Master’s true form reflected in human guise.

Eric smiled and looked down at the twin boys—no older than seven or eight—who were clearly bursting with questions yet still clung shyly to their mother’s gown.

"And these two are Leonard and Nicolas," Lady Chelsea said fondly, resting her hands atop the boys’ heads.

"It’s nice to meet you," Eric said warmly.

The twins’ eyes lit up instantly.

"It’s nice to meet you too!" they shouted in unison—and before Eric could react, both boys lunged forward and wrapped themselves around his legs.

"Your Highness, are you really the Prince of Flames?"

"Did you fight a beast?"

"Can you make fire come out of your hands?"

"Do you live in the palace?"

"Is it bigger than our house?"

"Can you ride really fast horses?"

"Are you friends with knights?"

The questions tumbled over one another so quickly that Eric barely caught half of them.

Before he could respond, Lady Chelsea hurried forward.

"Leonard, Nicolas, get off of His Highness!"

Earl Thaddeus stepped in as well, reaching for them. "Boys, behave yourselves!"

Drac stiffened, unsure how to intervene without startling—or accidentally hurting—the children.

"Young Masters, please," the old butler pleaded, joined by the murmurs of the household staff. "You mustn’t cling to His Highness like that."

The twins only tightened their grip, laughing.

Then—

Drac felt it.

A sudden chill ran down his spine.

"Leonard Corvin Castermere. Nicolas Finley Castermere."

The names cut through the noise like a blade.

The laughter stopped.

The twins froze.

The courtyard fell dead silent.

Even Earl Thaddeus and Lady Chelsea went still.

Slowly, the boys released Eric and turned their heads.

Standing there, composed and utterly calm, was Lysanne.

Her expression was serene—but there was no mistaking the authority beneath it.

All eyes turned toward Lysanne.

She had not moved from her spot, yet the air around her seemed to tighten. Her pink eyes were fixed firmly on the twins, sharp and unyielding.

Leonard and Nicolas looked up at her—and gulped.

They released Eric at once, straightened, and bowed deeply, their movements stiff with practiced obedience.

"W-We apologize for our rudeness, Your Highness," they said in unison.

Eric blinked, glancing from the boys to Lysanne. Drac did the same, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer.

Her eyes still gleamed pink—bright, focused, intimidating—before the tension eased just enough for the twins to retreat. They shuffled back toward their mother, clinging to her skirts once more, noticeably subdued.

Lady Chelsea exhaled softly, resting a calming hand on each boy’s head.

Earl Thaddeus cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Let us go inside, Your Highness."

Eric nodded, an awkward but genuine smile on his face. "Of course."

He followed the family into the mansion, Drac walking at his side.

Behind them, Lysanne fell into step- her expression once again calm and composed, as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

But Drac didn’t miss it.

That brief flash of authority hadn’t been borrowed.

It was hers.