Dae straightened slightly as he began to walk across the courtyard.

  The noise didn't stop, but it changed.

  People moved aside before he even reached them.

  Some stepped back quickly. Others bowed their heads just enough to show respect without drawing attention. Conversations lowered. A few travelers pretended not to look while very obviously looking.

  Silver hair drew attention.

  But it wasn't just the hair.

  Horns.

  He felt their weight without touching them — the smooth curve sweeping back from the crown of his head. Unlike many demons he had seen in the city, his horns were unmistakable. They emerged cleanly from the top of his skull, arching backward in a sharp, predatory line before tapering into thin, needle-like points.

  Silver.

  Pure silver.

  Even without memories, he could tell they meant something.

  His sister's horns had been black.

  His were not.

  Fragments of old lessons stirred faintly in the back of his mind. Bloodlines. Purity. Heritage markers that nobles cared far too much about.

  Maybe it meant stronger royal blood.

  Maybe just better genetics.

  Either way, people noticed.

  Eyes dropped quickly whenever his gaze moved.

  He walked toward the inn entrance, boots steady against the packed dirt. General Kael fell into step slightly behind and to the side, close enough to intervene if needed without making it obvious.

  Guarding him.

  Of course.

  If the prince died, Kael's career — maybe his life — would end with him.

  Inside, the inn felt even louder.

  Heat and smell wrapped around him immediately. Roasted meat, spilled ale, sweet spices, sweat, smoke from cooking fires. Tables packed with travelers. Servers moving quickly between chairs. Laughter rising from one corner while a heated argument broke out in another.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The moment he stepped inside, the energy shifted.

  Heads turned.

  The receptionist — a woman with sharp eyes and dark horns curling close to her temples — froze mid-sentence. She had been telling a man that the rooms were full.

  "…I already said—"

  She stopped when she saw Dae.

  Her expression changed instantly.

  A deep bow followed.

  "Your Highness," she said quickly, voice suddenly smooth. "Welcome. Please forgive us for not preparing sooner."

  The man beside the counter blinked in confusion.

  "You just said—"

  "We have rooms available," she interrupted smoothly without looking at him.

  Dae almost smiled.

  Ah.

  Royal privilege.

  She moved quickly, calling for someone in the back. A young worker hurried over, bowing repeatedly before being handed a key.

  "The finest room is ready immediately," she said. "Please allow us to guide you."

  Dae nodded slightly, keeping his expression neutral while internally sighing.

  The worker led them upstairs through a wide wooden staircase. Kael followed behind, silent as always.

  As they walked, the worker glanced nervously at Dae.

  "Would Your Highness like some juice?" he asked carefully. "Or… perhaps bread?"

  Dae shook his head.

  "I'm not hungry."

  A soft laugh came from behind him.

  He turned slightly.

  General Kael.

  The man's expression didn't change much, but there was unmistakable amusement in his eyes.

  Dae frowned faintly.

  "…What?"

  Kael waved the worker away with a short gesture.

  "That's enough. Return to your duties."

  The young man bowed rapidly and disappeared down the stairs.

  Dae looked back at Kael, confusion clear now that they were alone in the hallway.

  "Why did you laugh?"

  Kael paused.

  For a moment, he looked like he was deciding whether to answer.

  Then he sighed quietly.

  "Juice," he said, tone flat, "means young, beautiful women."

  Dae blinked.

  "…What?"

  "And bread," Kael continued, "means older women. Mature. Usually… well-built."

  Silence.

  Dae stared at him.

  His brain took a second to process.

  Then another.

  "…You're joking."

  Kael did not look like he was joking.

  Dae slowly turned back toward the direction the worker had gone.

  "…That—"

  He exhaled sharply, equal parts disbelief and embarrassment.

  "What the hell."

  Without thinking, he stepped back toward the stairwell just as the worker reappeared below.

  Dae leaned slightly over the railing and gave the man a sharp look.

  The worker froze.

  Dae raised a hand and mimed a light smack in the air toward him.

  "Go do actual work," he said dryly.

  The worker flushed bright red, bowed repeatedly, and vanished again.

  Kael's mouth twitched faintly, like he was suppressing another laugh.

  Dae straightened, shaking his head.

  He walked the rest of the hallway in silence, boots steady against the polished wood. The noise from downstairs faded with each step, replaced by a quieter hum — muffled voices through walls, the faint creak of floorboards, the distant clang of dishes.

  The worker had been right about one thing.

  The room at the end of the corridor was clearly meant for someone important.

  Wide double doors. Carved frame. A small silver plate set into the wall beside it.

  Dae stopped in front of it and exhaled slowly.

  Finally.

  He reached for the handle, but before opening it he glanced sideways at General Kael, who stood exactly where he had been the entire walk — half a step behind, posture straight, presence solid as a wall.

  Dae pushed the door open.

  The room was large enough to swallow him.

  A broad bed with heavy dark covers sat near the far wall. A low table stood beside a wide window overlooking the courtyard. Thick rugs softened the floor. A wash basin rested in one corner, already filled with steaming water. Someone had moved fast.

  He stepped inside, letting the quiet settle around him.

  Kael followed.

  Dae stopped immediately and turned.

  "…No."

  Kael paused mid-step.

  "No?" he repeated.

  "You," Dae said, pointing toward the hallway, "do not come into my room."