The next morning brought fog so thick it blanketed the villa like a shroud. Lira stepped outside with a basket of clean bandages, only to pause at the sight of footprints—fresh ones—leading from the treeline to the back wall of the villa.
She dropped the basket.
"Prince!"
He was already moving, coat half-on, a small metal tray of instruments in his hand. He knelt beside the prints and traced them with two fingers.
"Heavy step. Trying to move quietly, but not trained." He glanced up. "They were watching."
Lira swallowed. "You think it's the palace?"
"No," he said softly. "The palace would knock."
---
That afternoon, a traveling scholar arrived—young, clean-shaven, dressed in muted green robes with the golden insignia of the Royal Academy stitched to his sash. His name was Corwin, and he had the smile of someone who already thought he was the smartest person in the room.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness," Corwin said with a bow. "His Majesty heard of your… experiments. He sent me to observe."
Elric didn't offer his hand. "You can observe, no interfere."
"Of course," Corwin said smoothly. "Purely academic."
Elric nodded once. "Then don't touch anything unless I say so. People's lives depend on more than good handwriting."
Corwin blinked, then smiled wider. "Charming."
Lira rolled her eyes behind his back.
---
As the sun dipped, another patient arrived—a stable boy no older than fifteen, with burn marks across his chest and arms from a fire at the northern farms.
Corwin paled at the sight, pulling out a notebook. "He should be taken to a temple—burns that severe require divine salves."
Elric ignored him, carefully cutting away charred fabric. "Divine salves don't remove dead skin. They just numb the pain. That's how you lose limbs."
The stable boy whimpered, but Elric's voice was calm and warm. "You'll be alright. It'll hurt, but it'll heal."
He cleaned the wounds with vinegar and cool water, wrapped them in cloth soaked in honey—a trick he'd learned in his past life from an old medical journal.
Corwin stared as the boy's breathing steadied.
"No chanting. No spells," he whispered.
"No nonsense," Elric replied without looking up.
---
Later that night, as Corwin sat by the hearth scribbling notes furiously, Lira approached Elric.
"Prince do you trust him?"
"No. But he's useful." He looked out the window. "The real danger doesn't knock. It watches from the woods."
She frowned. "You mean the person from this morning?"
"I mean someone worse." He turned toward her. "The palace didn't send just a scholar. They sent a shadow too. One that doesn't write reports."
And deep in those woods, beyond the reach of lanterns, a pair of yellow eyes blinked in the darkness.
Not human.
Not beast.
Just… waiting.
---