Bound To The Dead: The Deceptive Class-E Farmer-Chapter 70: The Unveiling

The next day, as the first hints of dawn crept across the sky, the palace grounds stirred gently.

Isaac’s belongings were already prepared. Simon’s were, too and with two of his companions. Despite his age, the old man moved with calm resolve, offering one final bow of gratitude to Queen Aiah before their departure.

Aiah stood beside the gate, composed and still. Her expression was as unreadable as always, but her eyes... her eyes betrayed a different story.

’Why does it feel like this again?’ she thought, silently. ’It’s not as if he hasn’t left before.’ But the tightness in her chest remained.

’This isn’t fear. I’m not afraid... I just...’

She exhaled softly, brushing the thought aside. ’It’s fine. He’ll be fine.’

She straightened her posture, tucking her hands into her sleeves with practiced elegance, like the ruler she had become.

’Act normal. Say the right things. Don’t make this difficult.’

Isaac’s voice broke her thoughts.

"Tiny," he said.

From beneath his hair, Tiny fluttered out, drawing a quiet gasp from Simon, who blinked in surprise.

Isaac continued, voice calm. "I’ll leave Tiny behind, just in case something goes wrong at the palace."

The words lingered longer than they should have. Aiah’s brows lifted faintly, but only for a moment.

"Oh?" she replied, letting the corner of her mouth rise in a soft, almost playful curve. "Don’t worry. Even without Tiny, nothing bad will happen at the palace."

Her tone was light, reassuring.

But her heart felt heavier with each word.

Isaac didn’t argue. He didn’t even glance at her.

He simply let Tiny fly, as if he already knew she was lying.

As if he’d decided not to call her out on it.

Tiny twitched once, then settled in place like it had done it a thousand times before.

With nothing more left to say, the group turned to depart. Simon took the lead on horseback, and Isaac followed quietly behind.

And Aiah watched, eyes unmoving, until his figure disappeared past the palace walls.

Only then did she breathe out again.

—-----

Few hours later...

The palace courtyard was busy as carriages were loaded and guards called out orders. Princess Mikaela stood under the morning light, watching her attendants prepare to leave for Carreon.

She scanned the area, her concern growing.

"Has anyone seen Arthur?" she finally asked.

No one replied, only the shifting of boots and the rustle of robes.

"Sheena," Mikaela called.

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"Can you look for him?"

Sheena nodded. "I’ll find him," she said.

—-----

Elsewhere, in the study hall’s quiet, where morning sunlight filtered softly through the lattice windows, Aiah sat studying histories.

A guard approached, his steps careful.

"Queen Aiah," he said with a bow, "someone from Carreon has requested an audience."

Aiah didn’t lift her head immediately. "The princess?" she asked, a tinge of alertness in her voice. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

"No, Your Majesty. A man. He gave no rank."

She set the papers down. "Tell him to wait in the meeting room. I’ll be there shortly."

—------

The meeting room was quiet. A faint breeze came in through the narrow window.

Aiah stepped in quietly.

A man stood as soon as he saw her. He bowed respectfully, hands held together.

"I am Arthur," he said, "from Carreon."

She studied him, his face sharp, but his eyes held no malice.

"Arthur..." she repeated. "And what is it that you do for the princess?"

"I serve under Princess Mikaela as part of her royal escort," he replied without hesitation.

"Did she send you to speak with me?" Aiah asked, her tone measured but curious.

Arthur hesitated. Then, with a faint shake of his head, he answered quietly, "No. The princess knows nothing about this. I came on my own."

Aiah’s eyes narrowed just slightly, not in suspicion, but in quiet curiosity.

"Then why are you here?" she asked. "What is it that you want to say?"

Arthur drew in a slow breath, as though readying himself for something weighty.

"I wanted to ask... if, by any chance, the Queen knows the name Isaac. Isaac Vander Wegen."

Aiah’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, her fingers resting still on the table.

"Why are you asking?" she said, voice calm but carrying the weight of quiet suspicion.

Arthur looked down. "It’s nothing, Your Majesty. I just... thought you might’ve heard that name before."

A subtle shift in Aiah’s posture followed. Her tone, now firmer, no longer held its previous patience.

"You didn’t come all this way just to ask if I know a name. Don’t waste my time."

Arthur stiffened at the directness in her voice. His throat tightened.

Finally, he spoke.

"He was... a childhood friend. From Carreon."

Aiah gave a slow nod, allowing him to continue.

Arthur’s lips pressed together. His voice cracked slightly. "He wasn’t just a friend. He was like a brother to me."

There was silence. The kind that weighed on the chest.

"About six months ago," Arthur continued, "we were told he died... or at least, that’s what everyone believed."

Aiah’s eyes narrowed, just slightly. "Why?"

Arthur’s jaw tensed. "Because the king ordered it."

Aiah leaned forward, intrigued now. "What was the reason?"

"Is this you, Isaac?" she thought quietly, her heart beating a little faster.

Arthur slowly exhaled and began.

"It started about a year ago. Isaac had just returned from the market. But this time... he wasn’t alone." Arthur paused. "He came back with a woman."

Aiah raised an eyebrow.

"He told us they’d married on the way home. Just like that." Arthur gave a bitter smile. "Everyone was shocked. His parents, me, the villagers... it didn’t make sense. But..."

He looked up.

"...he was happy. So we accepted her. His parents, especially. They saw how much he smiled with her. That was all that mattered."

Aiah let out a small chuckle, shaking her head softly. "Isaac, huh..."

Arthur continued. "A few months passed. He left again, to deliver another harvest. His wife stayed behind that time."

His tone turned somber.

"But then... soldiers from the palace arrived. They took her away. Just like that. No warning."

Aiah raised an eyebrow, the edge in her voice returning. "Why would they take someone’s wife?"

Arthur hesitated before answering.

"Because she wasn’t just anyone. She was a Princess. King Belmont’s only daughter. Princess Mikaela... The heir to the throne."

The room fell silent.

Aiah’s pulse skipped. Her lungs stalled in her chest, like they’d forgotten how to breathe. The pieces snapped into place, harsh and cruel like glass breaking behind her ribs.