[Inner Garden Pavilion]
The low hum of a fountain masked the rustling leaves. Crown Regent Lira sat with a cup of jasmine tea, her silver rings glinting faintly as she rested her hands on her lap. Caelen and Hale leaned forward, tension held in subtle glances.
Caelen: "You said he didn't cast a spell. That it just... happened."
Lira (nodding): "That's correct. He never lifted a weapon. The most he did was place a hand on the earth... and then a quarter-mile stretch of cliff buckled like parchment."
Hale: "If he can do that, why wasn't the entire cliff leveled?"
Lira glanced toward the window behind her—toward the garden where Renhallow strolled in silence.
"Because he only broke what he had to. He's frighteningly precise."
Caelen: "What I want to know is how he knew. You were ambushed by assassins and attacked by aerial monsters. That's not a coincidence. Someone planned a route that should have killed a royal delegation."
Lira set the tea aside.
"My guts says he did know."
Silence fell.
"Two nights before we departed, I found him in the royal archive. Not reading—just standing before an unmarked map of the southern range."
Hale: "And?"
Lira: "He turned to me and said, 'Don't let the carriage stop on open ground. And do not speak to the man with the red-laced boots.'"
Caelen (frowning): "...Did that mean anything at the time?"
Lira: "No. But five days later, a decoy carriage broke an axle and stopped ahead of ours. When I opened the window, a lone rider approached—wearing red-laced boots. He smiled like he was waiting."
"Renhallow was already out of the carriage before I could blink. He had the man on the ground before a word was exchanged. Then the cliffs opened."
Hale: "So as the rumour said he sees the future?"
Lira (quietly): "Possibly. But it's not that simple I think,he doesn't explain. He always gives a vague hints.Probably like he's remembering things that haven't happened yet... but only fragments.My aide thinks that probably some rules regarding his foresight that he can't tell what he seen in detail.
---
The prince sat quietly for a long time, then murmured:
"And this is the man Aerthwyn trusts to guard their crown."
Lira (firmly): "Yes.His reputation among the nobles in my country are very high.Even the king has high expectations from him."
The scent of rain hung in the warm air as Lira set her tea aside completely. Her voice grew quieter—not secretive, but measured, like someone who knew the truth wasn't always welcome in full.
Lira: "You asked if he sees the future. I don't think he does. Not like a seer. Not clearly."
Hale folded his arms, skeptical.
"But what else do you call it when someone predicts an ambush down to the boots?"
Lira: "He knows pieces. As if he's heard the story already, but out of order… like memory scattered by time."
She looked to Prince Caelen, her tone almost sympathetic.
"I've asked him. He never explains. But I've noticed the pattern. He always warns just enough to prevent disaster, never enough to stop the setup entirely."
Caelen frowned.
"Why?"
Lira: "I suspect he can't. Not because he's unwilling—but because he's not allowed to. Like his ability has rules he can't disobey."
Hale raised a brow.
"Restrictions? What kind of power from contract with spirit, artifacts or relics?or from bloodline?"
Lira nodded slowly.
"Actually we don't have any idea about that, probably some of the artifacts or relics.I never heard any spirits being with power about a foresight."
"When the first time he warned me,he told not to hold court during the third solstice few years ago. Said the ceiling would betray me. I thought it was metaphor."
> "Three days later, an earthquake collapsed the west wing. I lost three staff and half of the hall collapsed."