"Your Highness, with respect, these figures cannot possibly be accurate."

  Master Thorne, the alchemist summoned by Lady Sophia, pced a detailed report on Julian's desk. Two weeks had passed since the soil samples arrived, and in that time, Julian had gathered a small council of trusted advisors in his Western residence.

  "Expin," Julian prompted, gesturing for Thorne to continue.

  "According to official treasury reports, the Northern mines produce approximately eight thousand gold crowns worth of ore monthly. But based on the contamination levels in these samples, the extraction rate must be at least triple that."

  Sir Thaddeus Mercer, the retired Eastern ambassador who had joined Julian's growing network, stroked his grey beard thoughtfully. "So either the mining operations are far rger than reported..."

  "Or the Crown is seeing only a fraction of the true profits," Lord Jasper Hallewell, one of the few Northern nobles who had quietly aligned with Julian, finished the thought.

  Natalie, standing discreetly behind Julian's chair, observed the gathered advisors. Their faces reflected a mixture of concern and calcution—the expression of nobles confronting a politically votile truth.

  Julian opened a leather folio containing copies of treasury reports he had obtained through his position on the Imperial Council. "Master Thorne's findings align with discrepancies I've noted for months. The reported tax revenues from Northern territories have increased only marginally despite Augustus's cims of economic revival."

  "Which begs the question," Lady Emmeline said, "where is the missing wealth going?"

  Julian unrolled a map of the Northern territories, pointing to several marked locations. "I believe the answer lies in these private estates Augustus has acquired over the past year. Supposedly modest hunting lodges, yet my sources report extensive construction and unusual security measures."

  "We need evidence," Sir Thaddeus cautioned. "Accusations against the Crown Prince require irrefutable proof."

  "Indeed," Julian agreed. "Which is why I propose a more direct approach." He gnced at Natalie, their eyes meeting in a moment of silent communication. "Natalie, please bring in Captain Westfield."

  A moment ter, Natalie returned with a weathered man in modest traveling clothes—no hint of military bearing despite his title.

  "Your Highness," the man bowed.

  "Captain Westfield served under my uncle in the Western border patrols before retiring," Julian expined to the room. "He's agreed to undertake a special mission."

  "Reconnaissance," Westfield crified. "I'll pose as a traveling merchant with legitimate business in the North. My men—all retired from service and loyal to Lord Marcus—will gradually establish a trade network that can serve as our eyes and ears."

  "And what of the ledgers?" Lord Hallewell asked.

  Julian smiled slightly. "Every mining operation requires meticulous record-keeping. The official books may lie, but somewhere, accurate accounts must exist. Captain Westfield's network will help us locate them."

  As the meeting continued into practical details, Natalie withdrew to prepare refreshments. In the kitchen, she found Lady Sophia supervising the preparation of a light meal for the advisors.

  "How fares the council?" Sophia asked quietly, dismissing the servants with a graceful wave.

  "His Highness is... magnificent," Natalie admitted. "He's thought of everything—contingencies, coded communication, secure informants."

  Sophia smiled. "The schorly prince has grown into a formidable strategist. Augustus underestimates him still, thinking him merely bookish and soft."

  "That misconception is our greatest advantage," Natalie agreed, arranging delicate pastries on a silver tray.

  "And our greatest danger," Sophia added soberly. "When Augustus realizes his mistake—and eventually he will—Julian must be sufficiently protected by alliances and evidence."

  Natalie's hands stilled on the tray. "Do you fear for him, my dy?"

  "Every day," Sophia admitted simply. "As do you, I think."

  Their eyes met in perfect understanding—two women bound by devotion to the same man, albeit in different ways.

  Later that evening, as Julian reviewed correspondence in his chambers, Natalie voiced her concern.

  "This investigation pces you in Augustus's direct path," she said softly, pouring his nightly tea. "If he discovers your involvement before you've gathered sufficient evidence..."

  "He won't," Julian assured her. "Augustus believes I'm occupied with schorly pursuits and managing my wife's Southern connections. He considers me no threat."

  "But you are," Natalie observed. "Perhaps more than he could imagine."

  Julian smiled, the candlelight catching the determined glint in his eyes. "Not yet, Natalie. But soon... soon I will be."