The fifth day of their journey took them deeper into Kareth’s interior, where even industrial efficiency could not completely tame the landscape. The forests here were older, their borders less geometric, their roots too deep for systematic extraction. The convoy navigated roads that curved around natural obstacles rather than conquering them.

They made camp in a clearing that felt almost alive compared to the previous night’s compound. Real earth was beneath their feet, and unprocessed air was in their lungs. Aric’s guards immediately established a perimeter with sonic detectors and infrared sensors, treating the forest like hostile territory.

Kaien watched them work with barely concealed disdain. “Do they ever simply exist in a place without analyzing it for threats?”

“Vigilance keeps people alive,” Aric replied, helping his troops set up the command tent.

“So does respect.”

Once the guards had completed their technological fortifications, Kaien took a different approach. He walked to the edge of the clearing and found a young tree whose growth pattern suggested it served as a gathering point for the grove’s energy. To someone trained in spirit-sight, it hummed with gentle awareness. Kaien gathered fallen leaves and wove them into a simple pattern, his fingers moving with practiced grace. He placed the woven offering at the tree’s base, a quiet request for safe passage.

From across the clearing, Aric watched with obvious skepticism. “Talking to plants?”

“Respecting them,” Kaien corrected. “This grove has a spirit. An awareness. I am asking permission to be here.”

“And you think that actually does something?”

“I think that manners cost nothing and can prevent substantial problems.” Kaien stood, brushing dirt from his hands. “Your nation has significantly fewer incidents of forest fires and wildlife attacks despite having less advanced warning systems. Our analysts attributed it to population density differences.”

“Your analysts were wrong. We have fewer incidents because we maintain relationships with the land. The spirits warn us of danger.” Kaien walked back toward the fire. “But please, continue believing it is a coincidence. That worked so well during your logging operations in the Wentwood, did it not?”

Aric’s expression darkened. The Wentwood incident had been a disaster, an entire logging camp destroyed overnight by what official reports called “unusual animal behavior.”

“That is different,” Aric said, but his conviction sounded thin.

“Is it? Or is it just what happens when you violate sacred spaces without basic courtesies?”

The debate was cut short by the call that the meal was ready. Later, as the fire burned lower, the tension eased fractionally. Aric’s second-in-command, Commander Thale, regaled the guards with campaign stories. The atmosphere loosened, becoming almost human.

Kaien found himself watching Aric in these unguarded moments. The prince had removed his tactical vest, and without that armor, he looked younger, more like a man carrying too much weight. He laughed at his officer’s story, a genuine sound that transformed his face completely.

“You wear a medal,” Kaien observed quietly, moving closer to the fire. “A silver star with twin oak leaves. What does it signify?”

Aric’s expression shuddered slightly. “Campaign commendation. The northern border conflict, three years ago.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to understand the man I am supposed to marry.”

It was the first time either had directly referenced the marriage, and the words hung between them, heavy with implications. Aric was silent for a long moment, staring into the fire.

“We were defending a supply route,” he finally said, his voice quiet. “Intelligence suggested light resistance. Intelligence was wrong.” He spoke economically, his military precision masking deeper emotions. “My unit was ambushed by a larger force using magical concealment. We were outnumbered three to one, cut off from reinforcements, with ammunition running low.” As he spoke, he unconsciously touched the medal on his chest.

“How did you survive?”

“Adaptation. I analyzed their attack patterns, identified a weakness in their coordination, and exploited it. We held our position for sixteen hours until support arrived.” His voice dropped almost to a whisper. “I lost thirty percent of my unit doing it.”

“But you saved seventy percent.”

“Mathematics does not make the dead weigh less.”

Kaien saw it then, the burden Aric carried behind his logical facade. The prince was not cold because he lacked emotions. He was cold because feeling them would break him. Every decision was measured in lives lost and saved, every strategy a calculation where human beings were variables in an equation of survival.

“You are a good commander,” Kaien said softly.

Aric looked at him sharply, searching for mockery or manipulation. Finding none, his expression shifted into something harder to read. “That is the first genuine thing you have said to me.”

“Perhaps you are not the only one who can be honest.”

The moment stretched between them, tentative and fragile. Then one of the guards called a question about tomorrow’s route, and Aric turned away to answer, the walls of his composure reconstructing themselves with practiced ease.

But Kaien had seen beneath them, just for a moment. What he had found was far more dangerous than any enemy.

He had found a person he could respect.