After several agonising minutes of waiting, there was a muffled knock at the door, followed by Nasir's voice:

  "Your Highness, one night guard is already here."

  "Let him in," replied Arenor, straightening up in his chair.

  The door opened and an elderly man of large build entered; his long hair was streaked with grey, and his irises were an unusual charcoal black. Numerous deep and jagged scars covered his body and face, making it clear that this man had considerable experience in serving the Royal Family, which also meant that it would be more difficult to negotiate with him than with any other guard.

  "Greetings, Your Highness, Crown Prince—"

  "Let's skip the formalities," Arenor interrupted him. "What do you remember from the night of the incident at the Night Bazaar?"

  "I didn't think you would ask," he replied. "It was a long time ago, and I thought His Highness would not bother with it."

  Although there was no mockery in his voice, it was clearly present in his words. It was obvious that he was challenging Arenor, questioning his competence as Crown Prince and future Pharaoh.

  The guard was testing him, and the Prince was going to let him do it.

  After all, Arenor remembered well what his father had taught him:

  "Those who doubt you the most are your most loyal subjects," he said. "For if it is very easy for you to convince a person of your own rightness, be sure that he will be just as easily convinced of the rightness of someone else, even your sworn enemy."

  And now, more than ever before, the Prince was convinced of the truth of these words.

  "I think you are experienced enough in political affairs to understand that if there are no open investigations, it does not mean that there are no closed ones either," Arenor replied calmly.

  A satisfied smile spread across the guard's face; he clearly liked Arenor's answer.

  "You are right," he replied. "Forgive my forgetfulness; unfortunately, my age is beginning to show," he apologised awkwardly. "So what exactly would you like to know about that night?"

  "Everything," said the Prince. "Every detail is important. That is why I want you to report to me everything that happened that night."

  "Right," nodded the man. "That night, my partner—a young but very capable lad—and I were standing guard at the rear of the palace. Although the Night Bazaar had stopped near the capital at around the time of the incident, we saw and heard nothing."

  "But is that possible?" asked Arenor. "As far as we know, there was a mass murder at the Night Bazaar; people were — must have been — in a panic: they were surely screaming for help and trying to escape. Even if the Night Bazaar was not so close to the city, surely there must have been someone or something that witnessed what was happening there?"

  "Now that you mention it, Your Highness, it seems strange to me too," said the guard. "But the strangest thing is that I only thought about how strange it was just now; before that, to be honest, I had no doubts about the whole situation, for some reason I don't understand myself," the man admitted.

  The more Arenor thought about it, the more of a headache he got. At first, everything seemed perfectly obvious: there was a witness to the mass murder of Airena — strangely, the only witness among at least a hundred people — who had to be eliminated as soon as possible so that he would not endanger his closest friend. However, with each new detail he learned, it became increasingly clear that the incident at the Night Bazaar was not just an incident, and that the one witness was not just the only witness.

  "What happened next?" asked the Prince.

  "At one point, I saw a young man approaching us from a distance, and—"

  "What did he look like?" Arenor interrupted him.

  "I don't remember," replied the man. "It was a dark night, so we—"

  "But you, like all the other guards, had oil lamps with you," the Prince pointed out. "Surely you could have seen him?"

  "I—" The guard fell silent, his face taking on an expression of genuine confusion. "I don't know. I don't remember seeing what he looked like."

  "All right," Arenor sighed in disappointment. "What happened next?"

  "He approached us and handed over the body of a young girl," the man continued. "We thought she was dead, but he told us she was fine and had just lost consciousness. He also said he found her at the Night Bazaar after witnessing her massacre everyone who was there at the time."

  "Anything else?"

  The guard pursed his lips, as if wanting to hide some information, but seeing the Prince's insistent gaze, he gave in and said:

  "He also said that after committing the crime, she tried to kill herself, but he managed to stop her by knocking her out."

  Arenor exhaled sharply.

  Even though he had his suspicions about this one witness, he was sure that he wasn't lying about this part of the story. The Prince himself had witnessed Airena's suicide attempt, so he knew better than anyone else that she was truly capable of it. In a way, he was even grateful to this witness; after all, if he hadn't been there, then...

  "Was there anything else?"

  "Yes," nodded the guard. "After this man handed the girl's body over to my partner, he also gave me a scorpion-shaped ring; I didn't even have time to ask him why I needed it when he replied that it belonged to this girl and that we should give it to her as soon as she woke up."

  So, this man was not only the sole witness to the mass murder committed by Airene at the Night Bazaar, but he was also the one who knew about this ring and its connection to Airene?

  It was all too strange. But what was even stranger was that...

  "...you just believed him?" asked the Prince.

  "Yes," confirmed the man. "Why shouldn't we have..." He fell silent, realising the absurdity of his own words. "We... we really just believed him," admitted the guard, "and to be honest, I don't understand why we did that myself."

  Now Arenor had no doubt: this one and only witness truly possessed a certain divine power that allowed him to easily convince people of absolutely anything.

  The prince had studied historical records in detail, so he knew that only two goddesses from the entire pantheon could grant such power: Deshret, the goddess of the desert, deception, cunning, and eloquence, and Alizeh, the goddess of wind, love, beauty, and desire. However, unlike Deshret, Alizeh's gift of persuasion usually had a side effect: the person on whom this divine power was used would fall in love with the one who used it on them.

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  And so, it would seem, that was it: the goddess who gave the gift of persuasion had been found, which meant that it would be easier to find that one witness, because each possessor of divine power had their own distinctive features, characteristic only of possessors of such divine power... if not for one "but".

  Neither Deshret's gift of persuasion nor Alizeh's gift of persuasion could be used in such a way that persuasion was transmitted in any way other than directly, through conversation or touch between the possessor of divine power and their target.

  This meant only one of two things: either this one witness had been close to all the inhabitants of the royal palace all this time, or this divine power was something greater than ordinary divine power.

  Of course, Arenor allowed for the possibility that it was simply some previously unseen form of the gift of persuasion from one of the Goddesses, but this was highly unlikely: before religion was completely banned, it had been openly discussed and studied for several hundred years. Detailed records still existed about each God and Goddess, as well as the divine powers they could bestow; and none of them mentioned the existence of a gift of persuasion that could be transmitted in any way other than directly.

  All this led Arenor to only one conclusion: he had encountered something previously unseen, inexplicable, and therefore incredibly dangerous.

  Something that could possibly cost him his life.

  And it would be good if it was only his own.

  "What happened next?" asked the Prince.

  "Then he just left, and we—"

  Arenor did not ask why they had simply let him go: now he knew the answer to that question very well himself.

  "I see," he interrupted the guard, knowing full well how the story continued. "Thank you for the information."

  "Always happy to help my Prince and my Kingdom," said the man, not at all offended by Arenor interrupting him. "Allow me to take my leave."

  The man had already turned to leave the office when the Prince suddenly stopped him:

  "Firstly, I have not yet given you permission to leave," Arenor said calmly. "And secondly, I want you to testify at the Council meeting."

  "On what matter?" the man asked.

  "The same one I was just questioning you about," replied the Prince.

  "When?" the guard asked briefly.

  "Today."

  ***

  The second guard was not as large as the first, and due to his short tenure in the royal guard as a soldier, he had not yet had time to build up sufficient muscle mass; However, he very successfully compensated for these two shortcomings with one advantage: his incredible height.

  The guard was so tall that he had to bend down to enter the office so as not to hit his head on the doorway. Of course, this feature became a problem in enclosed spaces, but in open spaces... it became an advantage that allowed its owner not only to intimidate opponents with his appearance from above, but also to see further than usual and take much larger steps, which would undoubtedly be very useful both on the battlefield and in defending the palace.

  In addition, he was also exceptionally handsome: his delicate features, full lips and thick eyelashes made him look almost feminine, and if it weren't for his physique, he could easily be mistaken for a girl. His black hair was braided into a small ponytail at the back, and his eyes were strikingly similar to those of Arenor himself — they had exactly the same light blue hue; however, unlike the Prince, the guard also had flecks of light gold in the middle of his irises, which beautifully framed his black pupils.

  His body and face were also covered with old scars and fresh wounds, which, unlike the Prince, he did not need to hide; However, the guard had significantly more scars than Arenor.

  Despite some very significant differences in appearance, for a moment it seemed to Arenor that he was looking not at a completely different person, but at his own reflection.

  'In another life,' thought the Prince, 'he could have taken my place.'

  Strangely, this thought brought him relief.

  "Greetings, Your Highness, Crown Prince Arenor," the young man said with a slight tremor in his voice and bowed respectfully. "What did you wish to see me about?"

  "Regarding the recent incident at the Night Bazaar," replied the Prince. "Tell me everything that happened that night."

  "So you're conducting an investigation?" asked the guard curiously, and without waiting for an answer, he continued, "But why? Don't you already know that the murderer is—"

  "I see you're very curious," Arenor interrupted him.

  "That's true," replied the young man, smiling sheepishly. "My older sister often tells me that."

  "And how often does your older sister tell you that if you talk too much, you could lose your tongue?"

  The guard tensed for a moment, but noticing that there were no obvious signs of threat on Arenor's face, he exhaled relaxed.

  "As often as she tells me that I'm very curious," he said with a gentle smile. "But I believe that you have to be sincere with the people around you, otherwise they won't be sincere with you either..."

  'What a naive child,' thought Arenor, looking at his peer.

  "...but openness and honesty are the most important qualities in any relationship."

  The guard's words reminded Arenor of himself as a child: back then, he also believed that you had to be sincere, honest and open with everyone, and then they would treat you the same way. But one day he had to face the realisation that all this was nothing more than the empty hopes of those who had been lucky enough not to encounter true cruelty.

  Therefore, looking at the young guard in every sense of the word, the Prince was well aware that one day he too would have to face this realisation.

  However, whether fortunately or unfortunately, the guard's life was not the Prince's responsibility, at least not until he became Pharaoh.

  Therefore, deciding not to pursue the subject, Arenor got straight to the point:

  "Tell me everything that happened that night. And remember," Arenor added, "every detail is important, even the most seemingly insignificant ones."

  ***

  The interrogation was tedious, mostly for the Prince.

  As for the guard, he seemed to be enjoying the interrogation. In fact, Arenor was sure of it: in addition to the main story of what happened that night, the guard also managed to talk about his personal life, which had nothing to do with the investigation, let alone Arenor himself.

  In addition, the young man also indulged in unnecessary descriptions: how dark the night was; how bright the moonlight was; how strong the wind was; and how cold the sand was. At first, Arenor even thought that he himself was probably to blame for this: perhaps the guard had taken his words about "every detail, even the most insignificant, being important" too literally. However, after a few more minutes of incredibly detailed and completely unnecessary descriptions, the Prince realised that it was not his words that were to blame, but the guard's talent for eloquence.

  'What a waste of talent,' thought Arenor as he listened to yet another vivid description of the sky and clouds. 'If he lives to see my coronation, I will make him my personal scribe.'

  'That's all I know,' the guard finally concluded his story.

  "I see," said Arenor with absolute certainty. "I have one last question for you today: do you remember what the man who gave you the girl's body and her ring looked like?"

  "No, I—"

  "I see," Arenor interrupted him immediately, not wanting to listen to another stream of stories about his life. "Thank you for the information. You may go."

  Despite his own promise to himself that he would not interfere in the guard's life until he became Pharaoh, the Prince had no intention of allowing him to participate in the Council meeting in any way, let alone testify in front of all its members.

  Arenor had never participated in Council meetings himself, but he knew enough about its members to be sure that if the young man went inside, he would come out dead; physically or psychologically, it didn't matter, because neither the first nor the second death could be reversed.

  When the Prince raised his head, the guard was still standing in front of him.

  "Why are you still here?" Arenor asked. "Didn't I say you could leave?"

  "No, I..." the guard stammered. "Actually... I would like to confess something to you, Your Highness."

  Arenor narrowed his eyes; could it be that he knew something about that night that the first guard did not? Something that would fundamentally change the course of the investigation? Something that would help him find the only witness? Something that—

  "I like you, Your Highness," the young man blurted out and immediately blushed.

  "What?" Arenor's eyebrows twitched involuntarily; he was so shocked by the guard's words that he simply lost control of his facial expression. "What are you—

  "Oh, no, that's not what I meant at all!" he exclaimed excitedly and covered his face with his hands, trying to hide the blush that completely covered his cheeks.

  "Then let me ask," the Prince began with frightening calm, "what, if not that, did you mean?"

  "I... I mean that I admire you, Your Highness," he replied. "In the purest and most innocent sense possible."

  Arenor smiled involuntarily; apparently, he had been wrong about this young man after all, and he was not eloquent at all. Otherwise, how could he have so foolishly confused two words with completely different meanings?

  "That's nice to hear," said the Prince. "And what exactly are the qualities of mine that you admire? Surely you cannot admire my entire person."

  "You are honest, stately, and elegant — just look at your back, straight as the string of a harp or lyre! Besides, you are also incredibly—"

  Or did he have a gift for eloquence after all? Because otherwise, Arenor could not explain all the further compliments directed at him, spoken in such a way that it seemed as if the guard was not only admiring him, but also madly in love with him.

  "Am I correct in understanding that this is what you wanted to tell me?" asked the Prince when the guard's seemingly endless stream of words finally stopped.

  "Yes, I—"

  "So," Arenor interrupted him, "am I correct in understanding that this is the reason you detained me, His Highness Crown Prince Afaria Arenor—"

  "No!" the young man exclaimed, genuinely alarmed. "I didn't—"

  Arenor chuckled quietly, genuinely amused by the guard's reaction.

  "Relax. I'm just joking," he said, leaning back in his chair. "But you really should be more careful with your words; not everyone is as honest, stately, and elegant as—"

  "Excuse me!" the young man exclaimed embarrassedly, and without waiting for a reply, literally jumped out of the office.

  For a few seconds after the guard's shameful escape, a broad smile graced the Prince's lips, but in an instant, it suddenly slipped from his face like a poorly secured mask.

  "It's a pity," he said quietly, "that I am so far from the man he admires."

  The meaning of his words sounded as broken as the poorly secured mask that had shattered upon hitting the floor.

  ***

  After completing two interrogations, the Prince sat for several minutes, staring at the wall.

  Despite the scant information he had received from the guards, Arenor knew one thing for certain: Airena had indeed carried out a mass murder at the Night Bazaar.

  And his confidence in this was based not at all on the words of the guards, and certainly not on the words of the only witness, which had been relayed to them by others; but on the words — or, more precisely, on the behaviour — of Airena herself.

  When Arenor asked her if she was the one who had committed the mass murder, she looked him in the eye and said "no."

  And while everyone else found nothing strange about this, to him — a man who knew Airena inside and out — it was painfully obvious that she was lying. When she lied, she had a habit of looking straight into your eyes, and Arenor remembered this habit for the rest of his life.

  Of course, part of Arenor still hoped that he was wrong; that her habits had changed, or that, at least this time, they didn't work the way he remembered. Still, the last thing Arenor wanted to believe was that the person closest to him was a cold-blooded killer.

  However, deep down, Arenor knew that it was true and that it was really her.

  But neither this realisation nor the opinions of others on the matter could make him stop loving her; even if it really was her, he was going to protect her with all the strength he had. It didn't matter who she really was — a cold-blooded killer or an innocent victim; for the Prince, she was the only one he loved, which meant he was ready to do anything for her.

  Even...

  Arenor's train of thought was interrupted by Nasir entering the office.

  "You're just in time," said the Prince. "I need you to go to Rushania right now and tell her that we need to hold an urgent Council meeting."

  "When?"

  "Today."

  "Understood," said Nasir, and was about to leave when Arenor stopped him.

  "And one more thing..." began the Prince, forcing the guard to stop and turn to face him, waiting for him to continue, "bring me a scribe."

  "Which one?"

  "The most responsible one."

  "His Majesty's personal scribe? But he might..."

  "Don't worry, Nasir. You of all people should know that everyone has weaknesses..." said Arenor, "and those closest to the Pharaoh have many more than ordinary people."