As Aric’s laughter faded, a soldier’s voice interrupted from outside the tent.
"General," the man called with urgency, his breath visible in the cold night air. "Commander Yrsa has requested your presence."
Aric straightened, composing himself. "I’ll be there shortly."
Pulling a cloak over his nightwear, he stepped out into the biting wind.
The moon hung low in the sky, casting a faint silver glow across the camp. Fires flickered in the distance, and the muffled sounds of soldiers at rest drifted through the quiet night. The cold gnawed at Aric’s skin. Without his armor, it seemed to seep through him far more easily.
Upon reaching Yrsa’s tent, he paused at the entrance before calling out, "Commander, may I enter?"
A smooth voice replied from within. "Come in, Aric."
He hesitated briefly. She had used his name, not his title. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮•𝘯𝘦𝘵
Suppressing his surprise, he pushed the flap aside and stepped into the tent. Warmth struck him instantly, a welcome contrast to the harsh chill outside.
His eyes quickly fell on Yrsa. She was reclined in a tub of steaming water, her curvaceous form half-submerged. The water rippled gently around her thighs, and the upper swells of her breasts rose above the surface. Her violet eyes gleamed with amusement as she caught his glance.
"We Northrenders often relish the cold," Yrsa remarked casually, her voice laced with teasing. "But sometimes, a hot bath is... interesting." She stretched languidly, her wet skin gleaming under the lantern light.
Aric cleared his throat, forcing his gaze to meet hers, his expression neutral.
"Yrsa," she corrected softly. "I was already informed by Aszer, you know. He told me everything." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him.
Aric felt a flicker of alarm, but he held steady. "Everything?"
"Don’t play coy, Aric," Yrsa said, her tone sharp and unyielding. "I want to understand why you—an imperial prince—would help us topple your own empire."
Aric’s mind raced. She wasn’t a fool. He had always known Yrsa was perceptive, but her penetrating gaze now pressed hard against him. Still, he couldn’t reveal his true intentions.
"Revenge," he said coldly. "My reasons are my own, but rest assured—it’s revenge that drives me."
Yrsa let the silence stretch, her violet eyes probing his face for a deeper truth. Aric did not flinch. At last, she leaned further back, the water rippling around her as her legs shifted.
"Revenge, hmm?" she murmured. Then, with a smooth, fluid motion, she rose from the bath. Water cascaded down her toned body, glistening in the firelight.
She made no effort to cover herself. Aric—though slightly taken aback—did not avert his eyes.
She stepped from the tub and wrapped a towel loosely around her form, her gaze never leaving his. The silence thickened, charged with tension, though Aric suspected he bore its weight more than she did.
"You’re bold," Yrsa said finally, a faintly approving smile tugging at her lips as she sat, one leg crossing over the other. Her thigh caught the light, but Aric’s eyes stayed fixed on hers.
Aric allowed himself the faintest smirk. "I am."
A moment passed before he shifted the subject. "I’ve received word," he said, moving to the map pinned on the far side of the tent. "The other two settlements have fallen. While we secured this one, King Aszer led an army to take the others himself, cutting through resistance."
Yrsa’s eyes sharpened. "Good. The coward king may finally earn a title more fitting."
Aric suppressed a smile. Much of what he had told Aszer was manipulation, but one thing was true—the Northrenders had indeed branded the king a coward for hiding in his castle while they fought in his name.
"We’ll head toward him soon," Aric continued, tracing a line across the map with a gloved finger. "On the way, we’ll raid every garrison and settlement, just as planned. When we reach Aszer, we’ll be ready for the Valerian forces that are bound to come."
Yrsa stepped to his side, close enough for him to feel the heat radiating from her damp skin.
"And when they come?" she asked, her eyes alight with battle hunger.
"By then," Aric replied, "the imperial city will be defenseless. The emperor is holding back his armies, but they can’t delay forever. Once they send troops north, Valeria’s heart will be exposed. That is when we strike."
A slow, savage smile spread across Yrsa’s lips. "I like it. A bold plan."
"Bold is the only way forward," Aric said evenly.
"By tomorrow morning," Aric answered. "Prepare your men. We’ll be ready."
Yrsa gave a firm nod, her gaze lingering as he turned to leave. Stepping back into the cold night, Aric felt the satisfaction of his plans unfolding.
Yrsa may have questioned his motives, but she would play her part in his greater design. Soon, Byzeth would fall. The Northrenders would unknowingly aid him in his true conquest.
And when the time came, he would rise from the ashes and blood of what was once the ruling power of Byzeth.