_*]:min-w-0 !gap-3.5">Summer heat y heavy over the capital as Augustus's reign entered its second month. Throughout the city, Imperial banners had been repced with new ones bearing Augustus's personal crest prominently dispyed alongside traditional symbols. Statues of the new Regent Emperor appeared in public squares with remarkable speed, their marble surfaces still fresh and bright in the sunlight.

  Within the pace, a different atmosphere prevailed. Courtiers moved through hallways with careful expressions and measured words, acutely aware that careless comments could lead to uncomfortable questions. In just eight weeks, seventeen nobles had been detained for "treasonous speech" or "conspiracy"—most of them officials who had served the old Emperor loyally or voiced concerns about the pace of Augustus's changes.

  From his restricted but comfortable position in the East Wing, Julian observed it all through the network of informants Natalie had carefully cultivated. Kitchen servants, gardeners, messengers, undresses—the invisible workforce of the pace became his eyes and ears as Augustus focused his suspicions on nobles and officers.

  "The Treasury reports are concerning," Julian noted one evening, reviewing documents Natalie had smuggled from the main library. They sat in his private study, where Captain Laurent had helped them establish the one room they were confident remained free from Augustus's spies.

  "The northern mining revenues appear sufficient in the official accounts," Julian continued, "but provincial tax collections have increased threefold in some regions."

  "While public works projects have been suspended throughout the Empire," Natalie added, consulting her own carefully compiled notes. "The funds are being redirected to military expansions and Augustus's personal projects."

  Julian frowned. "How are the Northern provinces responding to increased taxation?"

  "Poorly," Natalie replied. "There have been three local uprisings already, all suppressed by Augustus's mercenary units. Official reports cim bandits were responsible for the unrest."

  "And after suppression?"

  "The vilges were burned as 'examples.' Survivors relocated to bor in the mines."

  Julian closed his eyes briefly, absorbing this information. In the two months since his father's death, Augustus's rule had deteriorated from merely corrupt to actively tyrannical. Yet most of the Empire remained unaware, with official communications reporting prosperity and security.

  "What of Sophia?" Julian asked, changing topics.

  "Safely established in her Southern estate," Natalie reported with a slight smile. "Augustus's spies follow her to local markets, social gatherings, and church services, where they report her activities as entirely proper and unremarkable."

  "They miss her midnight meetings with Southern lords?"

  "Completely. The tunnel system beneath her estate has proven quite useful."

  Julian nodded with satisfaction. Sophia had been systematically building a coalition among Southern houses, united in concern over Augustus's governance. From Julian's perspective, the most promising development was her successful contact with his uncle, Lord Marcus of the Western territories.

  A knock at the study door interrupted them. Julian quickly gathered the illicit documents while Natalie assumed the pose of a servant reviewing household accounts.

  "Enter," Julian called once they were composed.

  Captain Laurent slipped into the room, his expression grave. "Your Highness, urgent news. Lord Hallewell of the Northern Council has been executed for treason."

  Julian stiffened. Hallewell had been his key ally in the North, a respected voice who had begun quietly documenting Augustus's abuses of power.

  "The official charge?" Julian asked, though he could guess.

  "Conspiracy against the crown," Laurent confirmed. "He was arrested yesterday after meeting with other Northern lords. This morning, he was tried in a closed Imperial court and executed immediately after."

  "And the evidence against him?"

  "Documents alleging communication with 'foreign powers seeking to destabilize the Empire.' No witnesses were permitted to examine these documents."

  Julian exchanged a grim look with Natalie. They both understood what this meant—Augustus had begun eliminating Julian's network of allies, starting with the most outspoken.

  "There's more," Laurent said reluctantly. "Five other Northern lords were arrested simultaneously. Their trials are scheduled for tomorrow. And Augustus has ordered increased guards for your wing, ciming concern that these 'conspirators' might have targeted you as well."

  "How considerate of my brother," Julian remarked dryly. "Doubling my jailers while executing my supporters."

  After Laurent departed, Julian paced the study in agitated silence. Finally, he turned to Natalie.

  "We're running out of time," he said quietly. "Augustus moves from consolidation to elimination. Soon, he'll have removed every potential source of resistance."

  "What will you do?" Natalie asked.

  Julian's expression hardened with resolve. "It's time to contact Marcus directly. Augustus leaves me no choice but to seek Western support."

  "The risk—" Natalie began.

  "Is necessary," Julian finished firmly. "My father's final decree established a legitimate alternative to Augustus's rule. With the Chancellor dead and the document destroyed, I'm the only living witness to that decree. If I do nothing, Augustus will systematically dismantle everything my father built."

  What followed was their most dangerous operation yet. Over the next three days, Julian composed a detailed letter to his uncle, outlining Augustus's actions since taking power and formally requesting Western support to establish the regency council their father had decreed. The letter, written in a code developed years earlier between Julian and Marcus, required precise wording that took multiple drafts to perfect.

  The greater challenge was delivering it safely. Augustus's men monitored all official messengers, and Julian's personal guards reported his every movement.

  The solution came from an unexpected source—the announcement of Duchess Helena's death.

  Augustus's wife, Crown Princess Helena, had been effectively imprisoned in her family estate since before the Emperor's passing. The official statement cimed she had "succumbed to the nervous condition that had long pgued her," but pace rumors suggested a darker truth.

  As was customary, all members of the Imperial family were expected to pay respects at her funeral ceremony. It would be Julian's first permitted departure from pace grounds since Augustus had restricted his movements.

  "The ceremony creates both opportunity and cover," Julian expined to Natalie as they finalized their pn. "I'll be heavily guarded during the procession and service, but the confusion of so many nobles gathered provides perfect cover for passing the message."

  "To whom?" Natalie asked. "Augustus will have every known associate of yours watched."

  "Which is why we'll use someone he would never suspect," Julian replied. "Lady Cordelia Bckwood."

  Madame Bckwood's elderly niece had maintained her position at court through political neutrality and a carefully cultivated reputation for frivolous gossip. Few remembered that her te husband had been Lord Marcus's closest childhood friend.

  The day of the Duchess's funeral arrived with appropriately somber weather—grey skies and light rain that shrouded the proceedings in gloomy half-light. Julian joined the procession of nobles walking behind the casket, his guards close but not obtrusive enough to viote funeral propriety.

  The ceremony itself was brief, with Augustus performing his role as grieving husband with the right bance of dignity and restraint. Julian noted how few tears were shed among the assembled court—Duchess Helena had been effectively erased from their lives months before her actual death.

  During the reception following the service, Julian navigated the crowd with careful precision, making appropriate conversation with various nobles while gradually working his way toward Lady Cordelia, who stood near a refreshment table looking appropriately mournful.

  "Lady Cordelia," Julian greeted her with a formal bow. "My condolences on this sad day. The Duchess always spoke highly of your kindness to her."

  "Your Highness," she curtseyed deeply, her elderly face revealing nothing but proper solemnity. "Most kind of you to remember an old woman on such an occasion."

  Their conversation continued with perfect courtly banality—weather, health, memories of the Crown Princess—while Julian's guards stood at a respectful distance. When Lady Cordelia's handkerchief dropped, Julian naturally bent to retrieve it. The exchange was so smooth that not even the watching guards noticed the small scroll passing from his sleeve to her hand as the handkerchief changed possession.

  That evening, as Julian returned to his chambers, he found Natalie waiting with carefully controlled excitement.

  "It's done," she whispered once they were safely in his private study. "Lady Cordelia's messenger departed for the Western provinces an hour ago. Augustus's men didn't give him a second gnce—just an elderly noblewoman's servant returning to her country estate."

  Julian exhaled slowly. "Now we wait. Marcus will either respond or not. Either way, I've committed fully to opposition."

  "If Augustus discovers the communication—" Natalie began.

  "He'll have the justification he's been seeking to remove me permanently," Julian finished calmly. "But he would have found another pretext eventually. At least this way, we have a chance of external support."

  Three tense days passed. Julian maintained his routine of schorly pursuits and carefully apolitical conversations with permitted visitors. Augustus, occupied with arrangements for Princess Yvraine's arrival and increasing unrest in provincial territories, paid little attention to his compliant younger brother.

  On the fourth morning, Natalie arrived in Julian's chambers with a small package concealed among his freshly undered clothes.

  "From the Western border," she murmured as she pced his folded shirts in a drawer. "Delivered by a merchant to one of Martha's cousins in the lower town."

  When they could ensure privacy, Julian opened the package to find a signet ring bearing the Western territories' crest and a short message in his uncle's hand: "Nephew—The West remembers your father's wisdom. Twenty houses stand ready when the schor quotes the ancient texts. Patience until autumn winds."

  Julian smiled grimly as he decoded the message's meaning. Marcus had rallied Western support and awaited Julian's signal, pnned for early autumn when Augustus would be occupied with Nordician marriage negotiations.

  "We have allies," Julian told Natalie, showing her the ring. "Now we need to survive until the right moment to use them."

  That survival became increasingly challenging over the following weeks. Augustus, emboldened by unchallenged power and increasingly erratic in his decisions, began a purge of officials throughout the Empire. Anyone suspected of insufficient loyalty faced immediate removal, often accompanied by confiscation of property and imprisonment.

  The pattern became depressingly predictable: accusation, secret trial, punishment—all conducted with a veneer of legality that barely masked the systematic elimination of potential opposition. Even nobles who had initially supported Augustus's succession began to withdraw from court, sensing the dangerous unpredictability of the new regime.

  From his restricted position, Julian could only watch and wait, compiling evidence of his brother's abuses while strengthening his network of allies through Natalie's careful communications.

  Six weeks after contacting Marcus, Julian received devastating news. Captain Laurent arrived te one night, his uniform disheveled, a fresh cut visible on his cheek.

  "Your Highness," he said urgently once assured of privacy, "Augustus has ordered the arrest of Lady Sophia. Troops departed for her Southern estate three hours ago."

  Julian went completely still. "The charges?"

  "Conspiracy to undermine Imperial authority. Augustus cims to have intercepted communications between her and Western territories."

  Natalie gasped softly. "Has she been warned?"

  "I dispatched a rider immediately, before coming here," Laurent confirmed. "If he maintains speed, he should arrive before Augustus's men."

  Julian's mind raced through implications and options. "Augustus moves sooner than anticipated. Something has spooked him."

  "There are rumors," Laurent said hesitantly, "that Princess Yvraine has reconsidered the marriage alliance after receiving reports of Augustus's... governance methods."

  Julian nodded grimly. "So he shes out, eliminating perceived threats." He turned to Natalie. "We must accelerate our timeline. Send word to Marcus—we move within the fortnight, not at autumn's arrival."

  As Laurent departed to resume his duties before his absence was noted, Julian made a decision he had been contempting for weeks.

  "Natalie," he said softly, taking her hands in his. "You've served as my lifeline to the outside world throughout this confinement. Without you, I would have been truly isoted, unable to counter Augustus's moves."

  "I've done only what loyalty demands," she replied.

  "Far more than that," Julian corrected gently. "You've risked your safety daily. And now, as we prepare to openly challenge Augustus, that risk increases tenfold." He paused, his expression troubled. "Which is why I must formally release you from service."

  Natalie stared at him in shock. "Release me? Julian—"

  "Hear me," he interrupted, still holding her hands. "What comes next is open conflict—perhaps civil war if Augustus refuses to acknowledge the regency council. Those closest to me will be targeted first. I cannot bear the thought of you suffering for your loyalty to me."

  "My pce is at your side," Natalie insisted. "It has been for a decade."

  "And I have selfishly kept you there," Julian replied, "when you might have built a life beyond pace walls. Sophia told me of Lady Emmeline's standing offer—a position in her household, away from court intrigue."

  "You seek to protect me by sending me away," Natalie realized, her voice tight with emotion.

  "I seek to give you freedom," Julian corrected softly. "The choice must be yours, Natalie. Stay and face whatever comes with me, or depart with my blessing and eternal gratitude."

  In that moment, looking into Julian's eyes—sincere, concerned, offering her release from service out of genuine care—Natalie felt the full weight of her decade-long deception. He still didn't know who she truly was, this man who had become the center of her world. If she left now, he might never know.

  Before she could respond, urgent knocking interrupted them. Martha entered, her elderly face pale with arm.

  "Your Highness, forgive the intrusion. Troops are surrounding the East Wing—more than the usual guards. They bear the Regent Emperor's personal insignia."

  Julian's expression hardened into resolve. "It seems my brother has decided to accelerate our timeline for us. Martha, alert Captain Laurent if you can do so safely."

  After the old woman hurried away, Julian turned back to Natalie. "It appears circumstances have forced our hand. Whatever you decide, it must be decided quickly."

  Natalie straightened, her decision already made. "My pce is with you, Julian. Now and always."

  As the sound of armored footsteps echoed down the corridor, Julian smiled at her with unexpected tenderness. "Then together we face whatever comes."

  When Augustus's commander burst into the chamber moments ter, he found Prince Julian seated calmly at his desk, his loyal attendant standing beside him with perfect composure—two figures of quiet dignity against the storm about to break upon them.