The fragile peace Riven and Vaelorian had found in their chambers was about to be tested by the Empire's relentless demands. Two days after that comforting reunion with Riven's friends, the Imperial Palace buzzed with news of Sir Eryndor's return. Sir Eryndor had been away for a month securing the eastern borders. The news of his return brought Vaelorian relief, but it coincided with a looming darkness: Riven's new deployment.
Riven was seated in Vaelorian's study, reviewing his mission details—a long-range patrol and supply route inspection in the volatile Northern Regions. It was a crucial mission, designed to keep him away from the Capital's intrigues for at least six weeks.
Vaelorian paced restlessly, pausing to stare out the window at the distant mountains.
"This is ridiculous," Vaelorian finally said, turning to Riven, his voice tight with frustration. "I just got you back. And now my father expects you to ride into the Northern Regions for nearly two months? What is he thinking?"
Riven looked up, his expression calm but serious. "He's thinking I'm a competent Knight and a valuable asset to the Imperial Army, Your Highness. He's right, too. I need to do this. I'll gain more experience this way. Besides, it was agreed I'd be reinstated to active duty."
"I know, but six weeks, my love!" Vaelorian ran a hand through his hair. "It's too long. The North is dangerous and unpredictable."
"The North is now my responsibility, Vaelorian. Just as being Crown Prince is yours," Riven countered gently. He closed the dispatch files. "I won't be useful sitting here in the Palace while you're negotiating tariffs with the Senate. I'd go mad. Look," he walked over to the Prince, taking his hands. "The moment Sir Eryndor steps through those gates, you have your friend and bodyguard back. You'll be fine without me for a few weeks."
Vaelorian held his hands tightly, his gaze intense. "No. I won't be fine. I'm not letting you go."
"Your Highness, you have no choice. I have to do this."
Vaelorian gave a slow, mischievous smile. "Oh, but I do. I am the Crown Prince, remember? I have duties, too. And what duty is more important than inspecting the army's most vital supply lines?"
Riven blinked, a slow comprehension dawning on his face.
"Vaelorian, you can't be serious. You can't just suddenly decide you want to 'inspect' my patrol route."
"Why not?" Vaelorian challenged, a dangerous spark of defiance in his eyes. "It's a two-birds-one-stone situation. I get an official inspection of the North done, and I get to ensure my sanity is...well, secured."
"You're unbelievable!" Riven exclaimed in exasperation.
The decision—or rather, the ultimatum—was presented to the Emperor and Empress during a strained dinner that evening. The Emperor set down his wine glass with an ominous thud.
"Absolutely not, Vaelorian. It is unheard of. A Prince of the empire does not suddenly decide to go on a six-week patrol with a logistical unit. You have your duties here. The Senate is convening soon, and the north is not safe."
"The Senate doesn't need me, father, you know that. And Eryndor is returning to take up my personal protection," Vaelorian argued, keeping his tone measured. "It's a perfect exchange. I will be far more useful ensuring stability in the North than staring at scrolls in the Capital. It will be seen as strength—the Crown Prince actively engaging with the military away from the safe walls of the Palace."
The Empress, ever the mediator, leaned forward. "Husband, consider the optics. It does address the whispers of the Prince being too 'soft' now that the betrothal with princess Lyra is broken. And, it solidifies Riven's place by making him essential to the Crown Prince's personal safety." She paused, her gaze flicking to Riven, who sat calmly beside Vaelorian. "But Vaelorian, you must understand the risks. The North is dangerous. And the mission must appear official. No one can suspect this is simply to be near Lord Riven."
Vaelorian met his mother's eyes with confidence. "This mission will be official. It will be arduous. And I will ensure it's productive. I simply require a small, highly efficient escort—Lord Riven's unit."
The Emperor sighed, running a weary hand over his face. He knows his son. Once Vaelorian fixed on a course of action, he would not be easily swayed. The political benefit his wife suggested was also undeniable.
"Very well," the Emperor finally conceded, his voice heavy with resignation. "But if one thing goes wrong, Vaelorian—if you are delayed, or if you cause a political incident—you will answer to me. You are officially leaving to inspect the Northern Regions. And Riven, you are responsible for his safety. Do not fail."
Riven bowed deeply, his eyes conveying a silent promise to the Emperor. "My life for his, Your Majesty."
The Empress gave Vaelorian a small smile. She understood her son's need to protect his heart, even if it meant risking a minor political storm.
"Just try not to look too happy about riding out into the wilderness with your lover, Vaelorian. Maintain decorum."
Vaelorian allowed himself a tiny, triumphant smirk. "I will endeavor to appear suitably solemn, Mother."
The Prince had won, but the war for control over their relationship was far from over. He would ride with Riven, but the Northern Regions promised danger that the safety of the Palace could never match.