“What? Why?”
“I don’t know the details, but you must return to your country as soon as possible.” The Marquis rushed to Luciano, who stared at him in a daze.
“This is not the time for a… meeting. You can leave the rest to us. We’ll make sure everything goes smoothly. It’s not something I want to think about, but if anything should happen to Queen Alana, Your Excellency Emilio, you are the king of our country. Should Teges find out, it will be terrible. They will use you for their own purposes. Come on, hurry,” he spoke frantically.
“I’m the king? What are you talking about…?”
“Aren’t you aware that Alana has appointed you as her successor in the case she has no children? For us, Lorenzo’s intention to return is absolute. Now, quickly, to Armenia. Baron Gusman and his party have started preparing for departure.”
♔♔♔
Shaken, Luciano berated himself and forced his unsteady legs to still. He stripped off his heavy cloak. Around him, his escorts were aplenty, yet they were flies in his mind – annoying as if they would somehow hinder his speed. Alone, he rode. Fast.
No one could keep up with his speed.
One after another, they lagged behind until they were no longer visible in the trail of his path. No wonder Luciano was the best rider in the exiled Serrat. Three days, three nights. Luciano rode tirelessly. He crushed one horse at the brink of collapse to switch to another exhausted horse, one after another until he reached the Armenian castle at astonishing speed.
Fortunately, the night was nearly full moon, making it easier to ride. He was tired and wobbly. Blood trickled from his toes. The wind, rain and sun had taken their toll on his magnificent silver hair, which had lost all its lustre. He also had a beard, but he didn’t care. It didn’t matter what he looked like.
Before he could reach Alana’s quarters, he was greeted by Callisto.
“Callisto, what happened? Where is Alana?” Calisto seemed surprised by Luciano’s appearance. “She has lulled a few moments ago, asleep now. – Prepare a bath of hot water for the prince consort and a warm meal.”
Luciano twisted Callisto’s neck as he motioned to the servants.
“I don’t care about hot water or food! It’s bad enough that you called me, isn’t it? I trusted you, and this is the result. Are you incompetent?!”
Callisto grabbed Luciano’s hand. “It’s not your hot water or your food that’s important. Alana is sick. Are you going to go before her with this appearance? You have no idea how different your appearance is. Alana will not be cured if an unclean person approaches her. You will have to take a bath,” Callisto said, seizing him by the arm and pulling him along.
“Let go of me and stay out of my way!”
“If I let go, you will go to Alana. Please, tidy yourself first.” Callisto murmured in Luciano’s ear.
“I heard all about it when she fell. I’m being played the fool. Afterall, Alana is also Alana. It is too late to tell you. You are not Baron Barceló of Nogueira. Am I right? Prince Luciano of the country of Serrat. You are Prince Luciano.” Luciano stopped moving, and Callisto added, “Rest assured. I’m the only one besides Alana who knows who you are. But let me tell you something.”
Luciano spat.
“The prince is still alive. I’m very impressed. I had thought that all the royal family of Serrat had disappeared. The situation was so terrible that I felt nothing but despair.”
Luciano stammered but managed to find his voice. “I heard from Baron Gusman. You were in Serrat at the time. Alana too.”
“I’ll tell you about it while you’re taking a bath because Alana would like that. She said she wanted to apologise to you. She said that she did not dare to tell you. Some people say that…. the second coming has no heart, but even if they have no expression, it’s different. It’s not that Alana doesn’t have a heart.”
Luciano nodded in agreement.