Natalie stood at the window of her modest chamber, watching dawn break over the Western estate's orchards. Twenty years old now, with a decade of life as "Natalie" behind her, she sometimes struggled to remember Nathaniel—the frightened boy who had once donned skirts to escape Lord Keller's men. That life seemed to belong to someone else, a character in a story rather than her own past.

  A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts. She opened the door to find Martha, who had joined Julian's household staff when he established his residence here.

  "Good morning, Martha," Natalie greeted her.

  "Not so good, I'm afraid," Martha replied, her normally cheerful face drawn with concern. "A royal messenger arrived before dawn. The Emperor has taken a severe turn. Prince Julian is requested at court immediately."

  Natalie felt her heart drop. "Has he been told?"

  "Lady Sophia is with him now. He's ordered preparations for immediate departure."

  "Thank you, Martha. I'll ready myself at once."

  After the older woman left, Natalie moved swiftly to pack essentials for court. Her mind raced through implications and dangers. If the Emperor truly y dying, Augustus would control the pace. Julian would be entering his brother's territory with limited protection.

  An hour ter, Natalie joined Julian and Sophia in the courtyard where their traveling party assembled. Julian's face was composed but grave.

  "Natalie," he acknowledged her with a nod. "I've requested a minimal retinue—speed is essential. We ride for the summer pace."

  "The summer pace?" Natalie questioned. The Imperial family traditionally summered there, but it was barely spring.

  "My father was moved there three days ago, supposedly for better air," Julian expined, his tone making clear his skepticism about this reason. "Captain Laurent will meet us with trusted Imperial Guards at the crossroads."

  As Sophia consulted with her dy's maid about final arrangements, Julian drew Natalie slightly aside.

  "I received another message," he said quietly. "Delivered separately by one of Lady Emmeline's pages. Augustus has recalled his mercenary captains from their compounds."

  Natalie's eyes widened slightly. "He anticipates the Emperor's passing."

  "Or intends to ensure it," Julian replied, his voice barely audible. "My father was in good health when I saw him two months ago. This decline is... convenient for Augustus's timetable."

  "Julian," Natalie used his name, allowed only in their most private moments, "this journey may be extremely dangerous."

  "I know." His eyes met hers directly. "But I cannot refuse the summons without confirming my brother's narrative that I care nothing for state matters."

  Natalie nodded, understanding the impossible position. "Then we must be extraordinarily careful."

  Julian's hand briefly touched hers, hidden by the folds of her skirt—a gesture of affection that sent warmth through her despite the circumstances. "We will be. And Natalie... if anything happens, Lady Emmeline has documents. You must—"

  "Nothing will happen," she interrupted firmly. "We will navigate this challenge as we have all others."

  The journey to the summer pace took three days of hard riding. They traveled with minimal stops, changing horses at Julian's allied nobles' estates rather than public posting houses where Augustus's informants might lurk. Captain Laurent and eight Imperial Guards joined them as promised, providing both protection and legitimacy.

  As they approached the summer pace—a sprawling structure of white stone nestled among forested hills—Natalie felt growing unease. The Imperial banners flew at half-mast, signaling the Emperor's grave condition. More concerning were the Northern territorial fgs prominently dispyed alongside them, and the unusual number of guards bearing Augustus's personal insignia patrolling the grounds.

  "He's already acting as if succession is complete," Julian murmured as they rode through the ornate gates. "Note how his men outnumber the Imperial Guard."

  Their party was met in the courtyard by Lord Chamberin Voss, his elderly face solemn.

  "Your Highness," he bowed to Julian. "The Emperor lives but remains gravely ill. He has been asking for you."

  "I shall attend him immediately," Julian replied, dismounting. "My wife and household will require appropriate accommodations."

  "Of course, Your Highness. The East Wing has been prepared. Prince Augustus thought you might prefer the greater privacy it offers."

  The East Wing—Natalie knew—was the furthest from both the Emperor's chambers and the pace's main activity. Isotion disguised as consideration.

  As servants led their horses away and began unloading baggage, Julian turned to Sophia and Natalie. "Rest and refresh yourselves. I shall go directly to my father."

  "I will accompany you to his chambers," Sophia stated firmly. "It is proper that both of us pay our respects immediately."

  Julian nodded, understanding her strategy—keeping them together provided mutual protection. "Natalie, establish our household in the East Wing. Captain Laurent will provide guards for our chambers."

  As Julian and Sophia departed with the Chamberin, Natalie supervised the settlement of their small retinue. The East Wing was indeed isoted, with easy approaches for observation or control. She instructed Julian's personal guards to establish watches and identified potential escape routes should they become necessary.

  Later that evening, Julian returned to their chambers looking exhausted. Sophia had remained with the Empress for formal mourning preparations—another strategic decision to maintain their presence in central pace activities.

  "How is the Emperor?" Natalie asked quietly as she poured Julian wine.

  "Conscious but weak," Julian replied. "His symptoms suggest poison—gradual, sophisticated administration."

  "Can nothing be done?"

  "The Imperial Physician has been repced by Augustus's Northern doctor. He diagnoses 'age and strain of office' as the cause." Julian's voice was bitter. "My father recognized me, however. He gripped my hand with surprising strength and whispered that I should 'remember the regency document.'"

  Natalie felt a chill. The document naming Julian temporary regent had never been formally filed—a precaution against Augustus destroying it. Only the Emperor, Julian, and the Lord Chancellor knew of its existence.

  "Augustus watched our entire interaction," Julian continued. "He barely concealed his impatience to have me removed from the chamber."

  "And the pace situation?" Natalie asked.

  "Worse than anticipated. Augustus has positioned nearly two hundred of his personal guards throughout the grounds. Imperial Guards have been reassigned to 'ceremonial duties' away from sensitive areas. Northern nobles fill the reception halls while allies of our father find themselves with urgent business requiring their presence elsewhere."

  As Julian spoke, the full danger of their position became frighteningly clear to Natalie. With growing horror, she realized Julian had walked into a carefully constructed trap. Augustus had used the Emperor's condition to lure his brother into an environment he completely controlled, filled with his own men, isoted from allies.

  "We need to leave," she said suddenly, the words escaping before she could temper them. "Tonight, while there's still—"

  "I cannot abandon my father," Julian interrupted gently.

  "Your father who will likely be dead within days, if not hours," Natalie pressed, unusual urgency making her bold. "Julian, don't you see? Augustus has been preparing for this moment for years. The mercenaries, the foreign princess, the Northern power base, the systematic removal of your father's loyal officials..."

  Julian's face revealed the same conclusion. "You think he intends to eliminate me while I'm here."

  "You are the only true threat to his reign," Natalie said bluntly. "The only alternative for those who fear his rule. The schorly prince has become a leader of substance with growing support among nobles across multiple provinces. You've built alliances, gathered evidence of his corruption, positioned yourself—perhaps unintentionally—as his rival."

  "Not unintentionally," Julian admitted quietly. "Not anymore."

  That simple confession confirmed what Natalie had begun to suspect in recent months—Julian had evolved beyond merely protecting the empire from Augustus's worst impulses. He had come to believe he might be the better ruler.

  The realization brought Natalie's greatest fear into crystal crity: Julian was in immediate, mortal danger. Not in some abstract future, but here and now in this pace. Augustus would never allow him to leave alive once their father passed.

  And she—still living her decade-long deception as Natalie—was completely unprepared to protect him from what was coming. The schorly assistant could offer strategic advice but not physical defense. The loyal dy-in-waiting had no combat training, no weapons, no means to ensure Julian's survival against assassins or "accidents" that Augustus would undoubtedly arrange.

  For the first time in years, Natalie desperately wished to be Nathaniel again—if only to better defend the man who had become the center of her world.

  "We need allies inside the pace," Julian said, breaking into her thoughts. "Send messages to Lady Emmeline and Lord Hallewell. Use our emergency codes. And Natalie..." he looked directly at her, his expression revealing complete trust, "stay close to me in the coming days. There are few I trust with my life, but you have always been first among them."

  Natalie nodded, her throat tight with emotion and fear. "Always, Julian. Always."