The Prince and His Loyal Hound

The journey north was calm — almost peaceful.

What was meant to be a mission felt, oddly, like a retreat.

The air grew cooler as they rode deeper into the Thorne territories, the southern scent of spring giving way to crisp pine and the faint salt of snowmelt. When they finally reached the Thorne estate, dusk was painting the stone manor in lavender shadows.

The gates opened, revealing Duke Cidric Thorne standing tall at the entrance, flanked by his household guard in deep navy cloaks embroidered with the silver crest of the north.

His expression broke into a rare, easy smile the moment he saw the approaching carriage.

"There he is," Cidric called, "the elusive Crown Prince who only writes when he's sick or surrounded by nobles."

August stepped down from the carriage with a faint smile that was dangerously close to genuine.

"And you only send letters when you're bored, admit it."

"You wound me," Cidric said dryly, stepping forward.

But instead of bowing, he clapped a firm hand on August's shoulder like a father greeting a returning son. And oddly enough August didn't flinch at the exchange.

"You look pale. They still working you to death in that palace?"

"Every day," August replied.

"I escaped before they could bury me in paperwork."

Cidric's laugh was low and rich.

"Well, you'll get no peace here either. I've got plenty of things to show you, and I expect you to walk the estate with me like you used to."

From beside them, Alaric groaned.

"Please, not the three-hour tour again. You made me herd horses last time—"

"—And you learned discipline." Cidric cut in, unbothered.

August shook his head, smiling faintly at the exchange.

"You haven't changed."

"You have," Cidric said, his tone softening. "But I still see that quiet boy who used to hide behind the curtains during state dinners."

August looked away, clearing his throat.

"I was... observing."

"Mmm. Observing my wine supply disappear when you and Alaric snuck into the cellars."

Alaric coughed. "No proof."

"No wine, either."

They shared a brief laugh before Cidric gestured toward the manor.

"Come. Your room's ready — same place as always. And Alaric, take care of the recruits. Don't let Thorne's name be shamed by your laziness."

"I'm the face of Thorne's work ethic," Alaric said smugly as he stepped forward, already motioning for the recruits to follow.

He turned to Caelan, offering a respectful nod. "Commander. You'll be staying near the prince's wing. Don't worry, it's warded against eavesdroppers and nosy cousins."

Caelan gave a curt nod, already shifting into silent observation mode as the recruits were ushered away.

August lingered a moment with Cidric, gaze soft but unreadable.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Cidric gave him a knowing look. "You never have to thank me."

They walked side by side into the estate, the navy banners of House Thorne fluttering gently in the spring wind.

◇◇◇◇

While August disappeared into the estate, Caelan guided her horse toward the stables.

She had just reached the gate when a sudden blur of motion shot out from between the pillars.

Before she could react, a small figure barreled into her and leapt up, arms flung around her neck.

"Caelan!" the little girl squealed mid-hug.

Caelan blinked, momentarily stunned, then looked down—and let out a sigh that nearly turned into a laugh.

"You know," she said dryly, "if your brother saw you hugging me like this, he'd pass out on the spot, little lady."

The girl—no more than seven—pouted fiercely and puffed out her cheeks.

"Alaric can go suck on carrots!" she declared. "Mary's old enough to hug whoever she wants!"

That earned a genuine laugh from Caelan. She scooped the girl up with ease.

"Whoa—look at you! You've grown so much, little lady!"

Mary giggled and snuggled into Caelan's neck, her small arms tightening around her.

"You're always nicer than Alaric," she mumbled. "He never plays with me..."

Caelan raised an eyebrow, already plotting.

"Oh? Then how about we fix that?" she whispered conspiratorially. "Let's make him so jealous he has no choice but to play with you."

Mary gasped in delight.

"Yes! Let's make him cry!"

◇◇◇◇

Alaric, who had just finished escorting the recruits to their rooms, was making his way back through the courtyard when the sight stopped him in his tracks.

His precious baby sister—in Caelan's arms.

Laughing. Cuddling into him. Radiant with joy.

His soul nearly left his body.

"Caelan Grey! What are you doing with my precious baby sister?!"

Caelan turned, brows raised in silent amusement, but before Caelan could speak, Mary beat her to it—loud and proud.

"Caelan is my new older brother!" she announced with a defiant huff, sticking out her tongue at Alaric.

"You don't play with me. He plays with me. He carries me. And he loves me!"

"You don't!"

That—

That was it.

That was the moment Alaric's soul cracked like fine porcelain and his very being disintegrated.

He staggered back a step, clutching his chest like he'd been physically struck.

"Betrayal," he muttered. "Treason. In my own estate."

Mary only snuggled further into Caelan's neck with a smug little grin.

Caelan let out a deep sigh and gently set Mary down.

"You know, Mary, you can have two older brothers. Alaric and I can both be your big brothers."

Mary blinked up at Caelan, head tilting to the side like a curious little bird.

"Really?"

Caelan chuckled. "Yeah."

Then Caelan leaned down and whispered something into her ear.

Mary's eyes lit up with delight. Without another word, she turned and bolted toward Alaric, who was now kneeling on the cobblestone path like a man witnessing the collapse of his entire world. His eyes were wide, his lips moved in broken whispers, and his whole expression screamed: My soul just left my body.

Mary leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

And just like magic, Alaric melted.

With a dramatic gasp, he swept Mary into his arms, holding her tight and smothering her cheeks with noisy kisses.

"My precious angel! My dearest star! You do love me!"

Mary giggled, wriggling in his arms.

"I love both my brothers!"

Caelan stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching with an amused smile.

◇◇◇◇

The day slipped into soft laughter and shared memories.

Caelan eventually ended up carrying Mary, fast asleep in her arms after hours of playing and running about.

Alaric walked beside them, smiling despite the earlier betrayal that still echoed faintly in his heart.

Once they reached the corridor near the prince's chamber, Caelan gently passed Mary into Alaric's arms.

"Thanks... for playing with her," he said quietly, adjusting his sister's weight.

Caelan gave a faint smile.

"Thanks for letting me be her older brother."

Alaric simply nodded with a smile and turned away, carrying his sister gently toward her room.

After a quiet moment, Caelan approached the prince's chamber and knocked once.

"Come in," came August's voice from within.

She stepped inside, bowed slightly, and asked,

"How was your day, Your Highness?"

August looked up from his desk, a rare softness lingering on his features.

"It was... rather nice. I never expected to relax this much."

A faint smile touched Caelan's lips.

"Then perhaps we should visit the North more often."

August raised a brow, amused.

"Are you mocking me, Sir Knight?"

Caelan feigned a gasp, placing a hand over her chest.

"Me? Never. Not even in my wildest dreams."

That earned her a scoff — nearly a laugh.

Neither of them knew it would be the last time August would come this close to laughter during his stay in the North.