The journey back to his chambers was steeped in silence, the palace corridors bathed in the soft, golden glow of evening lanterns. Shadows clung to the edges of the stone walls, their darkness creeping closer as the night deepened.
Izan's mind was a maelstrom of thoughts, each one more consuming than the last, pulling him deeper into the corner of his own plans and the dangerous game he was about to play.
As they reached his chambers, Dillon carefully helped him back into his seat by the large window. The room was a sanctuary of sorts, where Izan could think and strategize away from the prying eyes of his enemies.
The half-heart pendant, ever-present against his chest, found its way into his fingers once more. The cool metal always a comfort.
"How's the investigation going?" Izan's voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a razor-sharp undercurrent that Dillon had learned to recognize over the years.
Dillon stood by his side, his demeanor respectful but equally intent. "We'll receive the information we need very soon, just a little more patience."
Izan's lips curled into a wry smile. "I've been waiting patiently in this rolling chair, Dillon. What's a few more days that I can't endure?" His gaze drifted toward the window, his eyes narrowing as he looked out into the night. "Just make sure they get everything we need. No mistakes. We have to hit them hard."
Dillon nodded, his loyalty evident in his unwavering gaze. "Yes, my Lord."
A plan was already forming in Izan's mind, but there were still pieces of the puzzle missing, pieces that he needed before he could strike. "You'll be coming with me tomorrow outside the palace," Izan continued, his tone decisive. "I need to check on some things myself. Prepare us some disguises. Nobody needs to know about this."
Dillon's expression didn't change, though his respect for the Crown Prince deepened. Despite his condition, Izan was a man of action, never content to simply wait for things to happen. "Of course, my Lord."
A sudden knock echoed through the room, silencing them both. The knock was soft, almost cautious, yet it broke through the tension like a knife. Izan gave Dillon a brief nod, a silent command to see who it was.
Dillon moved toward the door with the silent grace of a soldier, his steps purposeful but careful. As he opened the door, a young man dressed entirely in black stepped inside. His clothing seemed to absorb the light, blending him perfectly with the shadows. He was a figure of the night, one who thrived in darkness and secrecy.
The man bowed low before Izan, his voice a soft murmur as he greeted the Crown Prince. "Your Highness."
Izan regarded him with a calm gaze, but there was a keen sharpness in his eyes. "What news do you bring?"
"The Empress and Grand Duke Marcelo are planning to make their move in the next court meeting," the man in black reported, his tone matter-of-fact but with a hint of urgency.
Izan's hands clenched the armrests of his chair for a brief moment before he forced himself to relax. The information wasn't unexpected, but it still set his blood boiling. The Empress and her cronies had been scheming against him for years, but now, with his condition, they saw an opportunity to finally push him aside. They underestimated him, how foolish they were.
"Do we need to move our plans forward?" the man asked, his eyes scanning Izan's face for any sign of his thoughts.
"No," Izan replied, his voice firm and unyielding. "When you rush things, you make mistakes. Let them enjoy their little victory for now. The most important victory is to laugh last."
A smirk tugged at the corners of Izan's lips, a look that sent a chill through the room. The man in black nodded in understanding. Izan was not a man to be underestimated; he was as patient as he was dangerous, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
After a moment of silence, Izan's expression grew thoughtful. There was something else weighing on his mind, something that will never stop haunting him. "Any findings about the boy I asked you to locate?"
The man hesitated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "We couldn't find any servant boy matching the description you provided, Your Highness. Perhaps he wasn't....."
"He's a servant," Izan interrupted, his voice sharper than before. The certainty in his tone left no room for doubt. "He told me so himself. No parents would send a four-year-old into the forest to pick herbs."
The man in black bowed his head slightly, acknowledging Izan's words. "We will continue the search, Your Highness. I'll redouble our efforts."
Izan's mind wandered back to that fateful day in the forest, where he had met the boy with the captivating green eyes. The memory was as vivid as if it had happened yesterday, the boy's kindness, his bravery in helping him hide, and the way he had given Izan half of the heart-shaped pendant. That pendant was now the only tangible link Izan had to him, a symbol of a promise he had yet to fulfill.
But where was the boy now? Could he be dead? The thought sent a pang through Izan's heart, but he quickly dismissed it. No, he couldn't allow himself to think that way. The boy had to be alive, somewhere. He just needed to find him.
He had returned to the cave several times over the years, hoping to find some trace of the boy, but the cave had been empty, inhabited only by animals that had taken shelter there. It was as if the boy had vanished without a trace, leaving behind nothing but memories and the pendant that Izan now held so dear.
"Dismissed," Izan said, his voice low and heavy with unspoken emotions.
The man in black and Dillon exchanged a glance before bowing and leaving the room. As they departed, the weight of the silence returned, pressing down on Izan's chest. Alone once more, Izan's hand instinctively went to the half-heart pendant hanging around his neck. He held it tightly, feeling the cold metal bite into his palm.
The night outside was dark, the sky a blanket of stars hidden by heavy clouds. But Izan's thoughts were not on the night or the palace or even the looming threat of the Empress and her allies. His thoughts were on the boy with the green eyes, the boy who he desperately wished to see again.
"I'll find you," Izan whispered into the darkness of his chambers, his voice barely audible but filled with determination. "I must find you."