Riley sat in his office chair, rubbing his temples in a futile attempt to soothe his aching head. “So, why did you bring this to me?”
“The premier is busy,” Dunhill replied.
Across from the prince were Austin, Riley’s childhood friend; Dunhill Calvert, captain of the Second Corps; and Brendon Carey, captain of the Seventh. All carried themselves with humility—though Dunhill alone seemed almost cheerful.
“I suppose that’s true,” Riley said. “He has been busier than usual lately.”
“They say the papers in his office are stacked even higher than yours. It would be a serious problem for our marquessate if our report got lost among them.”
“I don’t believe the premier would neglect Marquess Calvert.”
“Of course not,” Dunhill continued. “My father has received many kind words from both His Majesty and his predecessor. But everyone makes mistakes. And since my father hasn’t left our domain in years, his influence in the central government has started to wane.”
Riley couldn’t make sense of the knight’s elusive manner. One thing, however, was certain: None of the three men before him intended to drop the issue.
He inspected the report again. It concerned a recent increase in disappearances in the Calvert marquessate. Judging by the names listed, almost all the missing individuals were men. Human trafficking commonly targeted women and children, who fetched higher prices, which made this pattern all the stranger.
“Can you not deal with it yourselves?” Riley asked. A noble being kidnapped might warrant bringing a report to the palace, but the troubles of commoners were rarely elevated this high.
“I heard the Kenneth marquessate is having the same problem,” Brendon added.
Riley frowned. He barely interacted with Dunhill or Brendon, yet he could tell the captain of the Seventh was the stubborn sort. What he didn’t know was that the three had originally planned to bring the matter to the premier alone—until Austin persuaded them otherwise.
“Were all the people who went missing immigrants?” the prince asked as he reached a certain section of the report.
“Yes,” Dunhill replied. “And from what I’ve heard, it’s the same for the Kenneth marquessate. Immigrants aren’t familiar with the area, and their disappearances usually go unreported. Even when they are reported, it’s typically long after the fact.”
“That would explain the mismatch between the dates they were last seen and when the searches began. It also explains why only the two biggest marquessates are reporting these incidents.”
Dunhill and Brendon exchanged quick looks of surprise. Rumors had painted Riley as mediocre, yet he was clearly far more perceptive than imagined.
The Calvert and Kenneth marquessates were cornerstones of the kingdom’s defenses, and both saw heavy traffic. As a result, they had administrative systems capable of tracking their populations—a rarity for territories of such scale. Their tax ledgers, in particular, were reviewed regularly and thoroughly. Other domains either kept no such records or failed to maintain them systematically.
“I can’t say I’ve heard of anything similar happening in the Clarkes’ duchy,” Riley mused. “Austin, what about yours?”
“Apparently, we haven’t had any reports either. My brother’s going to check with father just in case.”
Outside of the two foremost marquessates, only the three largest duchies kept tax ledgers. Even then, the records were maintained carelessly enough that disappearances might simply have gone unnoticed. Reaching that conclusion, Riley gave his visitors a pointed look. Dunhill and Brendon stirred uncomfortably under his scrutiny.
“I’ve heard immigrant numbers have increased lately,” the prince said. “Is the same true for your marquessates?”
“It is, yes,” Dunhill replied.
Brendon and Austin remained silent, evidently unsure. They saw immigrants but hadn’t registered whether the influx had changed significantly.
“Very well. I’ll consult Marquess Kenneth and see this matter resolved, so keep it between us,” Riley said. “Austin, could you stay behind for a moment? There’s something I want to ask you, if you have the time.”
Austin glanced at Dunhill, who signaled approval with a look. With the supreme commander absent, Dunhill’s noble status made him the highest-ranking officer present, and Austin deferred to him.
“As you wish,” he finally responded, bowing to the prince in a knightly manner.
Once the two captains had departed, Riley motioned his childhood friend closer. In a low voice, he said, “Be honest. Do those two—or rather, Marquesses Calvert and Kenneth—not trust the premier?”
Austin hesitated, then responded just as quietly: “They wanted to take the matter to him but decided it wouldn’t accomplish anything. So no, I don’t think they trust him much. I suggested we bring it to you instead.”
Riley gave an ambiguous nod. High-ranking knights would rarely trouble a crown prince shy of adulthood with such concerns, even if encouraged by a trusted subordinate. He was well aware of the rumors circulating about him in noble society and among the knights’ order.
Austin squirmed slightly under the prince’s steady gaze. “What?”
Suspicion pricked at Riley’s thoughts. Perhaps this was a test of his suitability as future king—and of Austin’s suitability as his trusted retainer.
“Come to think of it,” Riley murmured, almost to himself, “Brendon Carey is a distant relative of Marquess Kenneth.”
“Now that you mention it—yeah,” Austin said.
Brendon was the eldest son of the marquess’s elder sister, a connection that naturally tied him to the Kenneth family. The two great marquessates wielded enough strength and influence to rival the three largest duchies, yet they were aligned with neither of the kingdom’s main factions. They would pledge allegiance only when a successor worth supporting emerged.
Austin smirked. “I can guess what you’re thinking, and you’re only half right. I don’t know all the details, but Duke Clarke was favored by the previous king.”
“I see. That tracks, given his talent.”
Nobody knew what the two crafty marquesses were plotting. The same was likely true of Brendon and Dunhill—and even if they did know, they wouldn’t reveal it easily. It wasn’t hard to imagine them being wary of Duke Clarke; the previous king had made him premier, and contending with him was notoriously difficult.
Riley sighed. “I doubt even Clyde or Liliana knows.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Austin said. “Clyde’s helping manage the duke’s territories now. He might be able to help.”
As the future heir, perhaps he could. Satisfied that they had reached the same conclusion, Riley began planning his next move.
“I’ll ask Clyde soon,” he said. “I want you there too.”
“Sure thing.”
With that, their discussion concluded. Riley still had official duties to attend to, while Austin had more training with the order. They quickly arranged their next meeting and parted ways. At some point, the awkwardness that had lingered between them had vanished without a trace.