Fucking shit, I've gotten myself tangled up with idiots! Pepin cursed as he stepped down from the carriage, his face twisted with frustration. In front of him loomed a sprawling mansion, its grand arches and ornate stonework almost mocking his rage. Brushing past the guards without so much as a nod, he stormed inside.
Guided to a large, lavishly decorated room, he found his target seated on an upholstered chair near the hearth. "You complete idiot! What the hell do you think you're doing?" he thundered at Icarus, whose eyes widened in shock. His mother, standing beside him, turned her gaze on Pepin, a mixture of surprise and offense flashing in her sharp, blue eyes.
"First, you destroy my last hope of reclaiming my rightful place, and now you try to kill the one person we cannot afford to lose!" Pepin's voice was a barely controlled roar.
Does he not see that this kingdom's future is balanced on Rafael's inventions? Despite all the ways Rafael had disrupted Pepin's plans, he'd grudgingly come to recognize the potential in the young advisor's ideas.
Icarus's face darkened, his voice brimming with bitterness. "What are you even talking about? I ruined your chance at the throne? Get lost, you piece of—"
"Silence." Icarus's mother's voice was cold, her gaze searing. "Now, Prince Pepin, may I ask why you're here?" She glanced disdainfully at Pepin. "My son needs quiet and time to recover."
"Why did you send someone to kill Rafael?" Pepin spat, fighting the urge to shout. The walls felt suffocating, closing in on him as he waited for her answer.
"And with what proof do you accuse us of such a thing?" she shot back icily, crossing her arms.
Pepin clenched his fists. "Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think anyone else here is such a fool?" His finger jabbed at Icarus, who was gripping his chair in anger. "Everyone will connect that attack to you. It happened right after your pathetic loss in the arena!"
"Shut your damn mouth!" Icarus growled, his voice sharp as he shifted painfully. "I don't know how that piece of shit beat me, but I'll see him pay for it!" His mother put a steadying hand on his shoulder as he struggled, still aching from his injuries.
"Enough. Leave our home right now." She demanded.
Pepin took a deep breath, regaining a measure of control. "Consider this our last collaboration. I'm done with the both of you." He leveled a cold stare at them. "And I'm warning you—Rafael is off-limits."
"I said, leave!" Icarus's mother snapped. Her fury simmered just below the surface, her eyes narrow with disdain.
Pepin turned on his heel and strode from the room, his steps echoing in the long, empty hall.
News of the attempt on Rafael's life swept through the capital like wildfire. Most didn't even know who he was, but word spread quickly: he probably was the mind behind the blast furnace, and he'd introduced tools that would change the way they forged metal.
As people talked, they learned that he may be was also the creator of other wonders—paper and cement, things that would affect them all. Whispers filled every corner of the city, from crowded marketplaces to hushed conversations in taverns.
Rafael lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. God, I thought things were starting to settle down, but it seems I was wrong. If I go out in public again, who knows if someone else will try to kill me.
He sighed, still shaken from yesterday's attempt on his life. Ella was beside him, her face serene in sleep, her hair spilling over the pillow. Her soft breathing was the only sound in the quiet room, calming his nerves.
The blast furnace needs to be completed as soon as possible, he thought. With a steady supply of iron and steel, we'll be able to arm our troops properly. If only I knew the final ingredient for gunpowder. Carefully, he slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb Ella, and left the room.
Two guards stood at attention outside his door, their faces solemn as they watched him go. He walked to the kitchen, taking enough food for two, then returned to his room. After eating quietly, he left the remaining portion for Ella and made his way to the council room, ready to begin his day as Threo's advisor.
"Our troops have already encircled Carilan," Duke Wiglaf reported, his face grave as he addressed the council. "Tonight, they'll use the trebuchets to breach the gates and invade. After retaking the city, they'll move on to clear the enemy from the nearby villages."
"Let's hope our soldiers are successful and this campaign ends quickly," murmured an elderly advisor, his voice filled with weariness.
Rafael listened to the reports closely: the updates on the war, the progress of the new weapons and armor, the construction of the crossbows, and the production of cement and paper.
The talk of food supplies, however, drew his attention most. Winter was tightening its grip, and food scarcity was already causing unease.
Rafael finally spoke, trying to sound confident. "Once the winter ends, we'll have enough equipment to double our farmland. There will be plenty of food for everyone."
"I hope you're right." Threo's face was tense. "Now, what's the status of the blast furnace?"
"We're nearly done, sir. With good weather, it should be ready in a few weeks." Said Rafael.
Threo nodded but leaned forward with a serious look. "I'm prohibiting you from going outside the inner circle. It's too dangerous until we know who ordered that attack." The others nodded in agreement, their faces full of concern.
"But, sir, I need to supervise the construction myself. It's crucial."
"Send someone else in your place. I'm sorry, Rafael, but I'm firm on this." Threo's tone left no room for argument.
Well, at least I won't have to deal with the cold, Rafael thought, resigning himself to Threo's decision.
"This concludes today's meeting," Threo announced, dismissing the council. Everyone rose, preparing to pass along their orders.
Rafael returned to his room to find Ella awake, a look of concentration on her face as she jotted down notes on a small sheet of parchment.
"I see you're keeping up with your studies," he remarked, smiling as he stood beside her.
"Of course," she replied, looking up at him with a bright smile. "To know how to read and write feels like a blessing—one I didn't always have. And," she added, a little shyly, "I've found I really enjoy writing. I thought, why not try my hand at a little story?"
Rafael's face softened, his pride evident. "In time, this blessing won't be for the few but for everyone. And one day, everyone will be able to read the story you've written."
Her eyes sparkled with delight. "Do you really think so?"
He felt warmth bloom in his chest. She's so adorable, he thought. "Absolutely," he said aloud, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face.
Ella's heart swelled with happiness as she looked at him. She felt grateful, not just for his encouragement, but for his presence in her life.