It was an exceptionally warm day when Marcus finally reached the valley after a long walk from the portal’s cave in the deep valley. Since no one from Ars Pheria had been expected to arrive at that time, no horses were waiting in front of the cave. Marcus carried his heavy backpack beneath the scorching midday sun. His t-shirt was drenched in sweat, and his cargo pants were dusted with the dry, clay soil of the Cappadocian valley.

  He instantly missed his silk Ars Pherian clothes breezy and light under the gentle Ars Pherian sun and cursed his polyester Earth clothing as he trudged up the steep hill to the house he visited so many times before. The path was easy for horses, difficult for an ordinary person, but only a moderate challenge for Marcus. Sweat trickled down his brow as he pressed on, the weight of the backpack only adding to his discomfort. At the top, he reached the iron gate, its surface decorated with intricate rose reliefs and typed in the password on the security gate box. With a soft hum, the gate slid open, granting Marcus access.

  He walked the path from the gate to the house, following the soil trail that wound between the trees. When he reached the front door, a lady politely greeted him with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. She seemed puzzled to see him.

  “Saluti Signorina Rezzana. I need to find Prince Alessandro. Where is he?” Marcus asked urgently.

  “Marcus, please come in and honor our Earth house,” Rezenna said with a warm but concerned smile, stepping aside to let him enter. She glanced around before closing the door behind him. Her long summer dress swept across the hardwood floors as they walked toward the inner parts of the house, which was large enough to be called a mansion. With a gesture of her hand, she sent a maid, who had been waiting in the spacious hallway, to the kitchen to fetch some lemonade and antipasti. Rezenna and Marcus walked alone into a wide salon that opened onto a large balcony overlooking the backyard, lush with rose bushes in every color.

  “He was here three days ago but didn’t stay at the house. He stayed at the empty hotel instead. Now he’s back in Rome,” she answered without hesitation once she was sure they were alone, sensing the urgency in his voice.

  “He was alone?” Marcus asked, his tone sharp.

  “He had a lady friend with him, but she left before he did,” Rezzana replied.

  “Can you please arrange my travel to Rome as soon as possible?” Marcus requested, his urgency growing.

  A couple of hours later, a black van arrived to take Marcus to the airport. He had changed into jeans and a light sweater, his usual attire now more fitting for the journey ahead. As he settled into the back of the van, he checked the documents Rezzana had provided: his passport, driver’s license, private pilot’s license, sailing license, and the background information. Everything appeared in order, each detail carefully arranged. He was ready.

  “Marcus De Rosa, from Naples, Italy. Forty-two years old. Brown eyes, brown hair. Height: one meter and ninety-three centimeters. Weight: eighty-five kilos. Stayed three days at the Yoanas Hotel in Cappadocia for leisure...” Marcus muttered to himself as he flipped through the documents.

  The driver of the black van didn’t speak until Marcus asked him how he was doing.

  "Very well, Signor Marcus, thank you. Anything I can help you with?"

  "Did you drive the prince when he was here?"

  "Yes, Signor."

  "How was his mood?"

  The Ars Pherian driver hesitated before answering. He wasn't sure if he should reveal anything about Prince Alessandro. But this was Marcus, the Emperor's knight. If Marcus was on Earth, it must be because the Emperor had requested it.

  “He came here with an Earthian lady and they stayed at the empty hotel. Prince Alessandro rode with Lady Carla to the portal the night of their arrival. I don’t think Lady Carla knew about the Earthian lady. He had planned to stay for four more days, but the lady left by noon on the third day. After that, Prince Alessandro… well, he wasn’t like himself. I’m not sure how to explain it, Signor Marcus, but he seemed different.”

  “Just tell me however you like, this stays between you and me,” Marcus reassured him.

  The driver hesitated, then spoke again, feeling relieved to share his thoughts. “He was sad, like an Earthian, and he cried Sir.”

  Marcus nodded, his expression hardening. “Don’t speak of this to anyone else,” he said firmly.

  Crying was almost an impossible act for an Ars Pherian. To lose control over their refined emotions was a rare, if not an entirely impossible occurrence. Sadness was common, but crying, shedding tears, was extraordinary. What could have made the prince so profoundly sad that he lost control in such a way? Marcus thought to himself that he would need to bring the prince back home as soon as possible.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Tell me the name of his lady friend,” he asked.

  "Her name is Ava L'Ambert. She is 26 years old, from California, USA. No police record. A wine expert. She co-owns a winery inherited from her family, as well as a restaurant in Paso Robles, a small town about two hours from the San Francisco Bay Area. She flew directly from Istanbul to San Francisco."

  “Nothing suspicious?”

  “Nothing suspicious, signor.”

  Approximately six hours later, including the layover in Istanbul, Marcus arrived at the iron gate of the apartment where Prince Alessandro stayed when he was in Rome. The apartment was comfortably appointed for an Ars Pherian loyalty, yet its exterior was modest enough to blend in, keeping it undetected by any casual observer. Marcus rang the bell several times, but there was no answer. He would wait until the prince returned but for someone as imposing as Marcus, it was nearly impossible to remain unnoticed in the neighborhood.

  He decided to move to a nearby coffee shop at the end of the street, crossing to the other side of the intersection. Inside, he chose a small table with a clear view of the apartment’s gate. From there, he could see Alessandro’s return. He sat in the corner, watching the gate for hours, but there was still no sign of the prince.

  He returned to the apartment building and checked once more, scanning the area to ensure no one was inside. With no other options left, he decided to call Thomas De Rosa. He retrieved his smartphone from his backpack, hesitating for a moment before powering it on. Fumbling with the unfamiliar device, he tapped at the screen awkwardly, like a grandmother trying to operate a new gadget. After a few moments of struggle, he finally found the contact and dialed.

  “Thomas De Rosa, this is Marcus De Rosa. I need you to tell me where I can find Alessandro De Rosa.”

  When Thomas heard Marcus's name, he gasped, a mixture of disbelief and excitement flashing through him. Marcus, the head of the commanders, was an extremely well-known figure among the Ars Pherians. Thomas had met him several times before, but despite his efforts to break through the strict exterior of the soldier, Marcus remained as cold and distant as ever. Now, torn between his loyalty to Prince Alessandro and his duty to the Emperor, Thomas, a man driven by deep refined emotions, found himself choosing Alessandro.

  "Are you looking for him for a particular reason?" Thomas asked, his voice probing for the level of urgency. The presence of Marcus could only mean one thing: trouble. If Marcus was involved, then someone was in peril. And judging by the circumstances, it seemed that Prince Alessandro himself was the one in question. Thomas’s mind raced, if this was related to the police incident from the night before, then he might very well be in trouble as well.

  "Can you please tell me where I can find him?" Marcus insisted firmly, his annoyance clear from the exasperated tone of his voice.

  "I saw him in his apartment last night, and he was still there when I called him early this morning. I haven’t spoken to him since," Thomas replied. "I don’t know where he might be right now."

  "Call him and ask, then let me know. Do not mention about my presence, just find out where he is."

  "I understand," said Thomas, knowing that when Marcus spoke like that, it meant compliance or facing consequences.

  Thomas called Alessandro several times, but each attempt ended with voicemail.

  "Marcus, I’ve been calling him, but either his phone is off, or he doesn’t have coverage. I’m on my way to his apartment now."

  "I’ll be waiting for you in front of the apartment," Marcus replied. It was dark and getting late in Rome. Marcus enjoyed the smell of tomato sauce brewing from open windows.

  Thomas arrived at the apartment dressed in his favorite suit, paired with a blush-pink silk shirt. He pretended he wasn’t bothered by Marcus’s cold greeting and, with a quick flick of his keys, unlocked the door for him to enter. The apartment was eerily quiet, the stillness only broken by the sound of Georgia’s protests from the top of the stairs. She made her way down and headed to her food dispenser for her dinner.

  Marcus walked through the apartment, scanning for any clues that might indicate where Alessandro had gone. There was nothing, no hint, no sign of anything unusual.

  “Do you have any means of tracking him?” Marcus asked, his tone expectant. He hoped Thomas had the foresight to implement some method of keeping an eye on Alessandro at all times, a practice that was crucial for royalty babysitting.

  “I used to,” Thomas replied with a touch of regret, “but Alessandro found out about it and deleted everything.”

  “I must find him. Check all flights to California,” Marcus ordered.

  “California? Why would he go to California?” Thomas asked, confused.

  “What have you been busy with lately? You didn’t follow him as you should have. Don’t you know what he was up to in Cappadocia?” Marcus pressed, his words making a second layer of pink appear on Thomas’s already flushed cheeks.

  “What was he up to? He didn’t want anything from me,” Thomas asked, finally recognizing the seriousness of the situation.

  “Just do the research and let me know,” Marcus replied, settling onto the couch and closing his eyes for a brief moment of rest. His tired eyes detected the dents on the hard wood floors as if hit by something heavy, his mind taking a note for the detail he yet didn’t have a place to tie to.

  It didn’t take long for Thomas to find the required information. Prince Alessandro was already on a commercial flight to San Francisco. After an hour of calculating the fastest route for Marcus to follow, Thomas concluded that the next direct flight to San Francisco would be the best option.

  “Tomorrow morning? Are you serious?”

  “Yes, it seems so,” Thomas replied.

  “Arrange a private jet to San Luis Obispo,” Marcus ordered. “I’ve lost enough time. We’re leaving tonight.”

  “We?” Thomas asked, brow furrowing.

  “Yes. I need you to make the arrangements for both me and Prince Alessandro on the way back.”

  Thomas didn’t like the sound of Marcus’s plans, but he had little choice but to comply with the Emperor’s knight.