The state dinner was held in a hall that resembled a surgery theater, all clean lines and harsh, unforgiving lighting. The Karethian council sat in their designated places with practiced precision, their formal attire as standardized as uniforms. Kaien occupied the seat of honor beside Aric, feeling like an exotic and dangerous specimen on display.

The meal itself was a study in efficiency. Each course was served with synchronized timing, the portions calculated for optimal nutrition. The conversation followed similar patterns, with topics shifting according to a predetermined agenda. These people had turned even dining into an engineering problem that had a solution.

Kaien decided to introduce a little chaos.

He began with Minister Helsa, who oversaw Kareth’s agricultural sector. She was explaining their vast irrigation systems with obvious pride, detailing efficiency percentages and crop yield ratios. Kaien listened with apparent fascination, his head tilted as if absorbing every word. Then he asked a question so innocuous it seemed friendly.

“Your systems sound remarkable. But what contingencies exist if the primary power grid fails?”

A tiny crack appeared in Helsa’s formidable confidence. “Well, we have backup generators…”

“Powered by the same fuel distribution network?” Kaien’s tone remained pleasant and merely curious. “I only ask because Zhenya’s approach uses localized spirit-wells that function independently. We have different philosophies, of course.”

He had planted a seed of doubt without appearing to criticize. As he spoke, he observed the way Helsa’s fingers fidgeted with her napkin, a nervous tic she was unaware of. By the time the minister excused herself, her expression was troubled, questioning whether her perfectly logical systems were as robust as she had believed.

Across the table, Aric watched with narrowed eyes.

Kaien moved through the dinner like a dancer, his magic so subtle it might have been mistaken for natural charisma. It was a low-level spiritcraft, too faint to trigger the wards. He adjusted his posture to seem more trustworthy, modulated his voice to hit frequencies that encouraged openness, and used micro-expressions that made people want to confide in him. He did not need grand illusions, just the smallest nudges, like tipping a scale with feathers.

By the time dessert arrived, he had gathered intelligence on three military installations, two research facilities, and the primary weaknesses in Kareth’s supply lines. Two generals, seated near him, had avoided eye contact when the topic of border security was raised, a silent admission of a vulnerability he now knew to look for. All this information was delivered willingly by council members who thought they were impressing him with Kareth’s might.

The dinner concluded with polite farewells. Kaien was being escorted to his quarters when Aric’s voice cut through the corridor.

“A word, Prince Kaien.”

The guards retreated, leaving them alone in the sterile hallway. Aric held a small device no larger than a pocket watch, its surface covered in delicate instrumentation.

“Do you know what this is?” Aric asked.

“A toy?”

“A magical frequency detector.” Aric activated it, and the device emitted a soft pulse. “It maps the ambient energy signatures in a given space.” He moved it slowly across Kaien’s body, watching the readings. “Interesting. There is a sustained enchantment around your collar, designed to subtly alter how light reflects from your face. It makes you appear more trustworthy to the subconscious mind.”

Kaien did not flinch. How observant.

“Another signature is around your throat, modulating your vocal harmonics. And a third…” Aric studied the readings, “is integrated into your perfume, affecting olfactory perception.” He deactivated the device. “You turned my council into intelligence sources without them realizing it. In the field, we learn to spot a feint. This was a very elegant one.”

“If you are trying to shame me, you will be disappointed. I am quite comfortable with my methods.”

“I am not trying to shame you.” Aric’s voice was flat and clinical. “I am demonstrating that I am not as foolish as my council. I see you, Prince Kaien. Every trick, every manipulation.”

“You see the magic,” Kaien corrected, “but your clever device cannot detect intent, ambition, or loyalty. It cannot measure whether someone acts from conviction or coercion. It can only quantify energy frequencies.” He stepped closer, deliberately entering Aric’s personal space. “Your reliance on machines to read the world is a critical weakness. You have outsourced your judgment to instruments that measure only what they are designed to see.”

“At least my instruments do not lie.”

“They do not need to. They are already blind to everything that matters.”

Aric’s jaw tightened, the first real crack in his controlled facade. “And what matters, in your estimation?”

“The human element your people have spent generations trying to eliminate.” Kaien adjusted his sleeve, a deliberately casual gesture. “You have built a nation of logic and order and convinced yourselves it makes you superior. But you have also made yourselves predictable. Remove the systems, and you are lost.”

“Remove the illusions,” Aric countered, his voice low, “and you are powerless.”

“Shall we test that theory?”

The challenge hung between them, electric and dangerous. For a moment, Kaien thought Aric might accept, might actually try to strip away the magic and see what remained. The prospect was both terrifying and strangely thrilling.

Instead, Aric stepped back. “Get some rest, Prince Kaien. We depart at dawn. The journey to the Lotus Veil will take several days, and I promise you will find it… educational.”

“I can hardly wait.”

As Kaien walked away, he felt Aric’s gaze boring into his back. The device might expose his magic, but it could not measure the acceleration of his pulse or the way his hands had almost trembled. This was supposed to be simple, a mission to infiltrate, manipulate, and secure advantage. His mother had prepared him for political warfare, not for an opponent who stripped away his tools and still managed to make him feel exposed.

Dangerous, Kaien thought. He is more dangerous than the intelligence reports suggested.

That should have been concerning. Instead, he found it was almost exciting.