When Astor was finally allowed to withdraw, he returned quickly to his room, feeling like a pawn that had learned its role on the board. The tension of being discovered by Selene still weighed heavily on him. He knew that every interaction with her was a risk, a constant danger that kept him on edge.
But this fear was not new. Astor had lived his entire life under the threat of being eliminated if anyone uncovered the truth behind his facade. For years, he had learned to hide his talent, ambition, and true self behind a carefully constructed mask of incompetence.
This time, however, the weight felt heavier. Selene's gaze, sharp and analytical, continued to haunt him even now, in the solitude of his room. Did she know something? Did she suspect?
Astor collapsed onto the bed, exhausted both physically and mentally. The constant confrontation with his family and his earlier clash with Selene, which had almost ended in his death, were draining his energy. He knew he couldn't afford to lower his guard, but, for the first time in a long time, he felt truly exhausted.
Sleep claimed him quickly. Yet years of living under the constant threat of his family had trained him to wake at the slightest sound or change in his environment. This time, however, it was something internal that pulled him from his rest. The uncertainty and weight of the decisions ahead pushed him to open his eyes in the darkness.
He sat on the edge of the bed, stretching muscles stiff from the previous day. The cold night air cleared his mind. With quick and silent movements, he dressed in his black clothes for stealth, erasing any trace of his identity as a Valenford noble. He took his bow and a quiver of arrows, slipping out of his room with the stealth of a ghost.
Astor ventured into the forest near the castle. The silence of the darkness enveloped him, broken only by the occasional crunch of leaves beneath his feet. He moved with an agility and precision that contrasted with the weak and clumsy image he presented to his family. In the distance, a faint glow broke through the darkness: a campfire.
It was Selene Drakenfell's camp, along with her men. From his hiding place among the trees, Astor could see the figures of soldiers around the fire, some speaking in low voices, others keeping watch. Selene sat near the center, her posture relaxed yet alert. Even at rest, she exuded a natural authority that required no words.
Astor adjusted his position, staying out of sight. The thought of killing her had crossed his mind before, but now it seemed more real than ever. If Selene suspected his abilities or became an obstacle to his future plans, eliminating her might be a necessary solution. But something held him back.
Selene was different from his mother and brother. She was neither a manipulator nor a tyrant, at least not at first glance. While her demeanor was cold, it was also direct and fair, leaving Astor doubtful that she would truly ally herself with his brother as a wife. He wasn't sure if she was an enemy or a potential ally.
He spent the rest of the night watching the camp from the shadows, assessing Selene and her men. When the sky began to brighten with the first rays of dawn, Astor had made no decision. The only certainty was that Selene represented an enigma he could not ignore.
Astor returned to the castle before the sun had fully risen. His room was in the same state he had left it; no one had entered in his absence. Instead of sleeping, he busied himself with preparing his luggage. His suitcase contained mostly clothing and personal items, but he left enough space for his bow and arrows, which he packed carefully. Although he knew it was unlikely that anyone in his house would care about what he carried in his luggage, Astor still took great care to hide it, avoiding any imminent danger. He even had a prepared excuse in case the bow was discovered.
It wasn't long before a servant knocked on the door to summon him.
"The young master Edmund and his family await you at the entrance," announced the man formally.
Astor sighed. He knew the gathering wasn't to see him off but rather to bid farewell to Edmund. Nevertheless, he quickly got up and left his room, maintaining a neutral expression.
When he arrived at the castle's entrance, the scene was exactly as he had imagined. Eleonor was there, elegantly dressed, surrounded by several members of the Valenford family. The farewell words were directed exclusively to Edmund, while Astor was practically invisible to everyone. Even the younger siblings ignored him, casting admiring glances only at the family's new head, Edmund.
Astor, as always, showed no reaction. The humiliations from his family no longer affected him. His mind was on the journey that was about to begin.
Selene arrived moments later at the castle, mounted on her horse with her escort of soldiers close behind. Her movements were precise and confident, as if she had been born to lead. Yet her gaze, as if the Valenfords were nothing to her, unsettled Eleonor, though she hid it well.
Eleonor stepped forward, forcing a smile.
"Lady Selene, while I understand your desire to depart quickly, assembling a full army in a day is… complicated."
Selene observed her in silence, letting the discomfort grow before responding.
"However, we won't let you travel alone," Eleonor added quickly, seeing the lack of response. "Edmund and a group of our finest soldiers will accompany you to inspect the current state of the front lines."
Eleonor had thought this through carefully; this way, the hurried departure wouldn't compromise the whole family but would still put Edmund in a prominent position.
Selene nodded, satisfied with the solution.
"Very well," she replied. "Let's depart then; my people are waiting."
As the men and horses were organized, Astor realized something: there was no carriage prepared for him. His face lit up with an expression of feigned panic, and he approached his mother with hesitant steps.
"Mother?" he said in a hesitant tone. "I don't see a carriage. How am I supposed to travel?"
Eleonor looked at him with evident disdain.
"Astor, there are no carriages. You'll ride with them on horseback."
Astor feigned discomfort, rubbing his hands nervously.
"Perhaps… I could go later with the rest of the soldiers when they're ready."
Before Eleonor could respond, Edmund let out a laugh.
"Of course not, brother!" he exclaimed mockingly. "You'll ride with us, at a fast gallop. You wouldn't want to be left behind, would you?"
Astor pretended to hesitate a moment longer, then nodded with a timid smile.
"Alright. If that's the only option…"
Edmund laughed again, clearly enjoying the spectacle, while Astor maintained his mask intact.
With everyone ready, the group departed the castle: Selene, her ten men, followed by Edmund, Astor, and a troop of thirty soldiers handpicked by Eleonor to protect her eldest son. The horses moved at a steady pace, their hooves echoing against the damp ground of the morning. Astor kept up his act, pretending to be a clumsy rider.
Thanks to him, the journey toward the frontlines progressed more slowly than anyone desired. The further they traveled, the rougher the roads became, and Astor took advantage of this to feign falls or pretend to lose control of his horse, delaying their progress.
Astor, riding a horse that he appeared to barely manage, stayed at the rear of the group as if trying to vanish into the shadows. His deliberately slouched posture and strained look of concentration were a perfect mask. However, his mind was far from what he portrayed.
As usual, Edmund hogged the group's attention. Throughout the journey, he tried to win Selene's favor. He rode alongside her, his tone full of forced confidence as he recounted his "exploits" on the battlefield and his prowess as a leader.
"Lady Selene," he said with a broad smile, "I am certain you'll appreciate having an experienced leader like me by your side. My men and I have faced numerous battles and emerged victorious."
Selene, however, barely looked at him. Her expression remained cold and impenetrable, like a statue carved from marble. She responded with monosyllables or calculated diversions, avoiding any comment that might feed Edmund's ego.
"Experience is always useful at the front," she said at one point, her voice devoid of emotion. "I hope you meet the king's expectations."
Edmund's brow furrowed slightly, but he forced himself to keep smiling. He wasn't used to being ignored, let alone treated with indifference.
What irritated Edmund the most, however, was that Selene not only evaded him but also repeatedly shifted attention toward Astor.
"And your younger brother?" Selene asked suddenly, turning her head toward Edmund. "I'm curious. Does he have any combat experience?"
Edmund let out a dry laugh, almost mocking.
"Astor is… a special case. He's not made for war."
Selene didn't seem impressed by the answer. Her gaze turned toward Astor, who rode several meters behind, his posture deliberately unsteady.
"Is that true, Astor?" she asked, her tone neutral but with an undertone that suggested she was looking for something beyond the obvious answer.
Astor slowly raised his gaze, as if he hadn't expected to be included in the conversation. His eyes conveyed a mix of shyness and confusion, a rehearsed performance that concealed the storm of thoughts in his mind.
"I… have no experience, Lady Selene," he replied softly, bowing his head slightly. "But I'll do what I can not to be a burden."
Selene kept her gaze fixed on him for a moment before nodding and turning her eyes forward.
"That will suffice," she said, as if closing the subject.
Edmund tightened his grip on the reins of his horse, his jaw clenching visibly. Every time Selene redirected the conversation toward Astor, it felt like an intentional provocation—a way to undermine his status as a leader and a man.