Slowly, the little wagon rolled over the stone bridge and into the courtyard.

Ren stared. He had expected it to be buzzing with activity, but the courtyard was as empty as the towers had been. A feeling of abandonment lay heavy over the place, which seemed quiet and worn.

Frowning, Ren looked across at Ira and Lyle, but they didn't seem fazed. “Is it always like this?”

Meeting his eyes, Ira nodded. “It has been for a while, now.”

Ren glanced at Niklas, who shrugged, looking just as confused as Ren felt.

At last, a small group of people approached them from the large double doors of the fort: a man Ren could only assume was the fort commander, and two soldiers, a man and a woman. One of the soldiers, the man, smiled widely.

“Father!” Lyle leapt off the wagon and straight into the smiling soldier's arms. Ira followed at a steadier pace and the man straightened up to kiss her brow and include her in his embrace.

Ren averted his gaze, a familiar ache building in his chest. He turned his attention to the commander, who greeted the wagon driver like an old friend. “Sir. My name is Ren Frayne, son of her late Majesty the Queen,” he announced. “I've come because I require the aid of my uncle, Lord Tyke.” Reaching for his sword, he unsheathed it halfway to display the golden stag symbol engraved in the crossguard. After living like a common traveller for close to a week, it was a rush to introduce himself with his proper title.

The reaction was immediate.

The commander turned towards Ren, lips slowly parting before he regained his composure and dropped to one knee. Instantly, the two soldiers followed his example, although Ira and Lyle's father kept hold of his childrens' hands. After a moment, Ira kneeled as well. Lyle shuffled his feet, staring openly at Ren with wide eyes.

“My lord,” the commander said, eyes trained on the ground. “We welcome you to Stag's Run. We're honoured to have you and we'll aid you in any way we can. I'll inform Lord Tyke of your arrival at once.”

Ren let out a breath of relief. A small part of him had been worried that the false words of his crime had already made it to Stag's Run. “Thank you. On your feet, Commander,” Ren said, climbing off the wagon, followed by Niklas. He pointed to Anik. Anik's eyes were closed and he hadn't moved at all during their journey to the fort. Ren didn't know if he was still unconscious or if he was simply pretending. “Place the prisoner in a cell.”

“And get a physician. The prince is injured,” Niklas added, nodding to the cut on Ren's arm.

Ren looked down. The cut was shallow and the blood had dried hours ago. “It can wait,” he said. “I'll see my uncle first.”