“Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.” — Margery Williams, Velveteen Rabbit

  ???

  Hamilton’s steps were silent even as he walked down the hallway of Nightray Manor, able to pick up the faint scent of parchment and chalk emanating from the study room, with the door left slightly ajar.

  He slowed his pace, pausing at the doorway, not wanting to interrupt, but also wanting to see how the children would perform in their tutoring session without eyes on them.

  It has been nearly two months since Luca started coming to Nightray Manor three times a week for tutoring sessions with Yulia, with Prince Rem often tagging along as he did so. And there’s been a major change in Prince Lucien since. He looked happier. There were times when members of House Nightray, or even Gareth, often made up excuses to have Luca spend the night just so that he wouldn’t have to return to the Imperial Palace.

  Though truthfully, they didn’t need those excuses, as Luca was more than happy to be able to spend the night at Nightray Manor. The king hadn’t caught on yet, considering that he spends most of his time ignoring Luca anyway. The queen, however, was another matter, but she had yet to broach the topic with the king, and always smiled sadly when Hamilton brought the twins back to the Imperial Palace with some excuse for why he had kept them for the night.

  Inside the study room in Nightray Manor, Gareth had turned the instructor’s table into some kind of makeshift strategy table, with a map spread across it, and miniature soldiers, terrain markers, as well as miniature flags, were scattered across the surface.

  “This is your scenario,” Gareth was telling the twin princes and Yulia, who were listening attentively. “Your garrison has been under siege for three days. Reinforcements are five days away. The enemy has a larger force, and your supplies—both food and water, are dwindling. What do you do?”

  Yulia frowned, furrowing her brows in deep thought, before she spoke first. “Feign a breakout in one direction to lure their main force. Then strike at their command unit with a smaller detachment under the cover of darkness. Either through assassination or sabotage. This will disrupt their leadership and maybe cause a withdrawal. Without a chain of command, the enemy forces will scatter.”

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  Gareth nodded. “High risk, but a solid plan. If you can pull it off, you can break their morale. Or force a retreat entirely.”

  From the doorway, Hamilton gave a small, approving nod, making sure to keep out of sight, though he was certain that Gareth had already noticed him. Yulia had always had a knack for battlefield psychology and tactics. She excelled at strategy games like chess for a reason.

  Next was Luca. His eyes narrowed as he studied the map on the table, fingers drumming lightly against the table. “We dig tunnels,” he said simply. “Trap them. Collapse one under their siege towers, or even use them to plant explosives. With luck, we make them think that the terrain’s unstable. This would stall them long enough for reinforcements to arrive.”

  Even Gareth looked faintly impressed at that plan coming from a seven-year-old. Hamilton knew of most field captains and even commanders who wouldn’t think of a plan like that. “Tactical deception.” Gareth nodded approvingly. “For a plan like that to work out, however, you will need coordination amongst all your troops. Timing, too, is the key.”

  Luca nodded, scribbling some notes onto a piece of parchment.

  Gareth’s eyes then shifted towards Rem, who looked uncomfortable. “And you, Prince Rem?”

  The younger prince glanced down at the parchment he had, chewing his lower lip nervously. “I… I’d send a messenger under a banner of parley. Try to open up negotiations. Maybe even offer a temporary ceasefire.” Rem nearly wilted under the look that Gareth was giving him. “M-Maybe they’re only attacking because they need resources, too. There might be a peaceful—”

  “Enough.” Gareth’s tone was sharp, though also tinged with a hint of weariness. This told Hamilton that this likely isn’t the first time he’d heard of such a plan from Rem. Next to Luca, Yulia looked ready to throw hands. “There is a time and place for negotiations, especially on the battlefield, like I’ve told you countless times before, Prince Rem.” Gareth’s voice was tight. “But on the third day of a siege, when both sides are desperate? No competent commander would give such an order unless they’re trying to get all their men killed. If you carry out such a plan, you would only be sending your messenger to die. And even wasting time that the rest of your men won’t have.”

  Rem’s face fell slightly, and his eyes darted towards his twin and Yulia, both of whom were staying silent, and determinedly not looking at him. Luca did not gloat when his own plan had received high praises from Gareth, but he did not shield Rem from Gareth’s harsh words either, like he normally does when Rem gets in trouble. As for Yulia, she is staying silent, too. But the judgment in her eyes was telling.

  From the door, Hamilton sighed quietly.

  Prince Rem is too soft, he thought to himself, seeing the dejected form of the younger prince.

  It isn’t anything that he doesn’t already know. Hamilton suspected that the entire Imperial Palace knew this by now. Even Yulia does, if her frequent exasperation with Prince Rem’s indecisiveness is of any indication.

  Rem never liked confrontations or arguments. He hated conflict. He always shirked away from it. This is one aspect about him that had Hamilton already seeing a wedge slowly being driven between Luca and Rem. And even between Yulia and Rem.

  Compassion, kindness, and empathy were admirable traits in any person. But in a prince, it makes for a terrible leader.

  Gareth continued with his lesson, rearranging the markings on the map, coming up with another scenario. “All right, the next scenario is a little different. This one involves a two-front threat. Enemy forces are marching towards both your capital and your granaries. There are civilian villages on its route. You have less than five hours before the enemy forces arrive at the first village. Prioritise. What would you protect first? And how would you do it?”

  As Gareth and the children resumed their lesson, Hamilton turned away, walking away from the study.

  He didn’t need to hear what answers the children would give. Even at this age, at the tender age of seven, Hamilton Nightray already knew which one of the two princes would make the better commander, and which one, if not careful, would be eaten alive by the world waiting outside the palace walls.