***

That evening, Arnold’s attendant, Oliver, rubbed his forehead in consternation as the prince summarized the day’s events. “So, all that’s really happened is Prince Theodore becoming Lady Rishe’s ally.”

“And that troubles you?”

“You know it does.” When Arnold didn’t respond, Oliver dropped his voice to a murmur. “Your brother is no ordinary prince. He is a king in his own right to the underclass, all those who flirt at the edges of legality and treason.”

“So it would seem.”

“What’s more, the young women of the palace adore Lady Rishe. And now she has connections to the Aria Trading Company as well, which has been spreading its influence all over the world. She has the servants, a guild, your brother, and the people he commands.” Oliver counted on his fingers the personal connections their future crown princess had made within the scant few weeks she had been in Galkhein. “What else could she be doing other than building out her faction?”

A faction that could, in time, become a threat.

Arnold did not appear concerned. “So what? I far prefer this to my future wife finding herself alone and helpless.”

“But Your Highness—” Oliver bit off his entreaty. If Arnold was allowing it, he had his reasons. Resigned, Oliver heaved a sigh. “Very well. All shall be as you will. Also, something arrived for you.”

He presented the prince with the letter. Arnold grimaced at the impression in the wax seal before breaking it and giving it a swift glance. He grunted and handed it back. Oliver bowed reverently as he accepted it, swiftly appraising himself of its contents. It was a missive from an individual of some importance from a distant place.

“Oh my.”

It opened with words of congratulations for Crown Prince Arnold on his betrothal, begging indulgence for the writer’s inability to attend the wedding ceremony in the coming months. Instead, the letter writer intended to visit Galkhein before the ceremony, with a gift.

What now?Oliver rubbed at his temples.More trouble, that’s what.

To be continued…