The day was just beginning to break. Only a faint glimmer of light touched the distant mountain peaks, while much of the landscape remained draped in shades of gray.
In the Royal Capital, some were already rising to begin their day's work. This was especially true in the estates of the nobility, where many servants had already started preparations to meet the demands of their masters—breakfast, morning rituals, and the like.
At that moment, Rhea was soaring through the sky above the capital with ten birdkin. Each of them wore a satchel slung across their body, stuffed full of paper.
"Don't expose yourselves. Scatter them and retreat," Rhea said, her expression stern as she eyed her companions.
"Yes!" The ten responded in unison.
"Scatter!" Rhea commanded, taking the lead as she dove toward her chosen direction.
The current light was perfect for their operation. People below couldn't see them clearly; even if someone looked up, they would likely mistake them for mere birds.
"I didn't think the First Prince would actually do something like this," Rhea muttered, pulling a stack of papers from her satchel. They detailed how the First Prince had murdered the king to seize the throne.
Of course, the narrative had been polished by Lucas. He had painted the various princes in a negative light, describing their cutthroat infighting for the crown. It also told of how Princess Lucy had traveled thousands of miles to find medicine for the King, only to return home to the news of his murder and find herself imprisoned by her eldest brother.
"Once this news spreads, the First Prince's reputation will be in the gutter."
Rhea smirked and began scattering the papers from the sky. With this method, the whole city would know the news in less than half a day. This was Lucas's ploy—bring everything into the light to cause trouble for the First Prince and stir the hearts of ambitious nobles.
It looked as though it were snowing white flakes as the eleven birdkin finished their task. They retreated quickly, leaving the capital to wait for the coming night as the dark undercurrents began to brew.
The sun slowly climbed over the mountains, sweeping away the darkness and evaporating the morning mist.
"Huh? What's this white paper on the ground?" A commoner heading out to the fields picked up a sheet. Unfortunately, he was illiterate. Everyone in the capital recognized white paper now; word was it came from some city and was used for writing. Merchants had already brought plenty of it to the capital; since Dahlia hadn't returned yet, some of the smaller profits had been conceded to these traders.
"What does it say?"
"Should we take it to the courier station and ask the gentleman there?"
"They aren't open yet. Let's find a shopkeeper; they can read."
The commoners were gripped by curiosity. Some gathered up the papers; for a commoner, a sheet of paper was valuable even if it had writing on it, since the other side was still blank.
"What kind of fool has so much money they can afford to throw paper all over the streets?" A noble's servant cursed. They were the ones who had to clean the streets outside the manor gates.
"Wait, there's writing here. What's it say?"
"Take it to the butler. This might be big news."
"My god! Could this be true? Is the First Prince actually that bad?"
"Do you want to die? Keep your voice down! Don't go shouting that out loud."
Those who could read the words turned pale. They shut their mouths and hurried away. The clever ones immediately sensed a conspiracy at work; regardless of the truth, they chose to keep their heads down.
At the Duke's mansion, Grand Duke Kerrac was eating breakfast with his son, Tove.
"Any movement these past two days?" Kerrac put down his knife. The fish was too much for his taste; he found himself missing the canned fish he'd had during the winter.
"Nothing. Catherine hasn't been eating much again," Tove replied, wiping his greasy hands with a linen cloth. He knew his father was asking if anyone had tried to contact Catherine.
"I heard Princess Lucy was brought back to the palace?" Kerrac frowned.
"Yes. The First Prince sent an invitation late last night for you to attend a banquet tonight," Tove reported.
"Oh? It seems the Prince is getting anxious." Kerrac raised an eyebrow. The invitation had arrived too late; he had already been asleep.
"The Minister of Internal Affairs will be there too. The Prince wants to marry Lucy into that family," Tove said, his eyes full of resentment. He had wanted to marry her himself.
"A calculated move," Kerrac mused. He said calmly, "Well, we can't have everything for ourselves, or we'll be isolated." There were two other Great Houses; if Kerrac's family took every advantage, the others would unite against them.
"Understood," Tove muttered, frustrated but helpless.
"Go tell Catherine to dress up. She needs to build some rapport with the Prince tonight," Kerrac added. "And go buy the latest model of lute."
"Yes, Father."
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed outside. The butler rushed in with a paper, shouting, "My Lord, something big has happened!"
"What is it?" Kerrac took the paper. As he read, his expression shifted rapidly.
"Father, what's wrong?" Tove asked curiously.
"How interesting." Kerrac narrowed his eyes and handed the paper over. "Cancel the banquet with the Prince. Say I'm ill. You go in my place tonight, and Catherine doesn't need to go at all."
"Huh?" Tove was stunned by the sudden change.
"This is an opportunity," Kerrac murmured, his eyes flashing with ambition. Catherine might not need to marry the Prince after all. If he allied with the other two houses, that throne might actually be within reach...
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