Tugging the reins, Hugh stopped his horse at the foot of Esfia Bridge. He dismounted and approached the soldiers guarding the bridge entrance for inspection.
“Hugh Roberts—I wish to cross the bridge.”
“Aye, sir! My apologies, but we must first check your permit.”
Though the soldiers knew Hugh, nobody was allowed to break protocol unless they were royalty. Hugh handed them his knight’s permit, and as the soldier bent over to examine the permit, Hugh sank his fist into his side. As the soldier crumpled like a piece of paper and lost consciousness, Hugh slipped past him.
“Thank you for your service.”
Before the soldier’s companion could register what had happened and react accordingly, he was also unconscious. Then Hugh turned to the trees at the foot of the bridge and raised a hand.
“Move the real guards and hide them…don’t kill them. I’m about to return to the castle. After I cross the bridge, see to it nobody else does.”
Then his comrades who were standing by that morning emerged from the shadows of the trees. They were a mix of castle soldiers and dogmatic anti-royalists—all of whom obeyed Hugh’s orders without question.
Hugh was consumed with the sudden urge to laugh. They were technically his comrades and he referred to them as such, but the lofty resolutions he had proselytized in order to gain their cooperation were nothing he even slightly believed in.
Then again, it was because he didn’t believe that he was able to give a convincing performance. He could disguise treason as reverent justice. Additionally, his words carried even more weight as somebody who had moved up the ranks a fair amount.
They were the words of the right-hand man of Sirius, the eldest prince of Esfia. His confidant. His most trusted bodyguard—Hugh Roberts.
That was how Hugh had gained so many comrades in his cause, from the inside as well as the outside.
Why—? A question directed at his comrades swelled inside of Hugh. Why did you betray Prince Sirius?
He knew he wasn’t exactly in a position to ask that question. Hugh might have simply not understood that idealism was the easiest way to sway someone.
He nipped this thought in the bud—it would not serve him.
He looked back toward the castle town. Nobody was following him…for the time being. If he was aiming for certainty, he should just raise the bridge now, but he quickly changed his mind. Esfia Bridge was configured such that the castle was notified when it was raised. It was a mechanism that was put in place during King Eus’s reign. Hugh didn’t understand how it worked, but he did know he couldn’t stop the message from being sent to the castle.
So he got back on his horse and gave the order to his comrades again: “If a breach is imminent, raise the bridge.”
“Aye, sir!”
“It’s in your hands now.” With a nod back, Hugh kicked his horse’s sides.
After he crossed Esfia Bridge, the castle came into view. His objective was Sil Burks—and the young man’s removal.
It was all in the pursuit of obeying his master’s orders.
The memory was still vivid. It was unforgettable—it had embedded deeply into the recesses of his mind. It was a memory that lay dormant until Sirius fell in love with Sil Burks—until misgivings he once had about his master came to light.
“What my father said… It weighs heavily on my mind.”
“His Majesty? What did he say?”
“Something happened…between the time he was the crown prince and the king…” Prince Sirius stared at the ceiling and murmured. “There’s a nest festering in Esfia…but what’s inside it?”
The prince closed his eyes…then he turned back to look at Hugh and gave an order. “Hugh. If I should ever change, put me on the correct path.”
“…………?” At the time, he hadn’t understood what the prince meant. “Are you telling me you’re going to stray, Your Highness? But I don’t see that happening to you—”
“Believe me, I hope I’m wrong. I…I want to have faith in my future self. But Hugh, can you say with confidence that I won’t turn out like my father?”
The answer to that question was beyond Hugh.
“Whenever I look at my father…I become less and less confident in myself.” The prince clenched his fist and murmured. “I want…to tear down Esfia’s system. I’m fine with men marrying men, but with that right comes responsibilities. It isn’t fair for anyone to benefit from their authority while abandoning the responsibility that comes with it—especially if you’re the king. And if the king sets a bad example, we can’t even hope to achieve this.”
Then he declared, in a way that seemed to question himself: “This whole institution of kings marrying other men—does it really need to persist in such a warped way? If anything, it’s a wonder the system has lasted as long as it has. When I’m king…I’m going to put an end to it.” He continued, saying, “Hugh—if I show signs of going back on this promise, I want you to stop me.”
“You shouldn’t ask someone like me, Your Highness…”
He should ask Derek Nightfellow—the face of the prince’s best friend was the first to materialize in Hugh’s mind.
“I can’t ask Derek.”
At the time, Hugh didn’t understand why that was, but now, he had a feeling he knew. His Highness’s best friend, Derek Nightfellow, was too softhearted. He had not inherited the bold iciness of his father, Duke Nightfellow.
And that’s why Hugh had gotten the message many times: Call it off. Derek never told him so directly, but it was clear that Derek was trying to give him a way out.
And Princess Octavia would likely try to give him a way out, too—
Back at the restaurant, he tried to avoid drinking the truth serum (which he discovered later was a weak dosage). It was starkly weaker than the serum he used at the junior ball, even though he could have easily used the same amount. But thanks to Derek’s softheartedness, it was easy for Hugh to keep his comrades in line.
Call it off, huh…?
Ridiculous.
“I’m in too deep… There’s no way I can call it off now.”
He had many opportunities to abort the mission. He could have called it off after the castle town survey attack plot was foiled. He could have called it off after the carriage sabotage failed. He could have called it off before the survey, during the survey—
He could call it off now.
“Well, I would choose the order I wanted to obey!”
Hugh nodded to himself and agreed. Well said, Princess Octavia.
“I will also choose the order I want to obey.”
He would choose the order he wanted to obey and bring about the results he wanted.
That was what he had decided.
And he had no regrets.
Whether the plan itself succeeded or failed, his own goal would be met regardless.