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As they hummed in fine melody, Aric gazed at the women, noticing their predatory glint. Beneath their large, bare bosoms and plump, soft thighs, they ran their hands sensually as they bit their lips and gazed at the prince in a seductive manner. There was danger in their eyes; these women were more than just courtesans.

However, that was not Aric’s problem. Not now.

Aszer rubbed his chin, considering the proposal. "But the towns you’re suggesting—here, and here—are near imperial garrisons. We risk drawing attention to ourselves too soon."

"That’s the point," Aric said, his voice cold and calculating. "We want them to know something is happening, but not to realize the full scope. These raids will be surgical strikes—quick, brutal, and unpredictable. We hit them hard, take what we need, and disappear before reinforcements can arrive."

The king frowned, pacing around the map. "Still, I’m not convinced. What about the supply lines? We need resources to fund this rebellion, and these towns won’t provide enough."

Aric tapped a finger on the map, his eyes gleaming with confidence. "The towns are just the beginning. Once we’ve created enough chaos, we move on to larger targets. By then, the empire’s forces will be spread too thin, and they’ll be too disorganized to stop us."

Aszer stared at the map, the wheels in his mind turning. After a moment, he nodded slowly. "I see… It’s a sound strategy. Strike at their heart while their hands are too busy putting out fires."

Aric smirked. "Exactly. And with my knowledge of the empire’s internal workings, we’ll know where to strike next."

The king stared at the prince for a long moment, then chuckled darkly. "I must admit, Valerian, your mind is as sharp as you say. I like your plan."

Aric was about to respond when Aszer raised a hand. "But I’ve made a decision."

The king’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous light as he leaned closer to the prince. "You will accompany us on these raids. I want to see your brilliant mind in action... and make sure you’re as committed to this cause as you claim to be."

"Your Grace, I do believe it’s better if I remain in the shadows for now..." Aric opposed.

"Nonsense," Aszer said, returning to his painting. "Worry not, your secrecy will not falter. You may cover your face if you wish."

The king then raised his hand, gesturing for a few of the women to attend to the prince.

One woman, with dark flowing hair, slipped beside him, gently brushing her fingers across his arm. Another pressed closer, her bare thigh grazing his, while a third ran her hands over his chest, tugging playfully at his shirt as if to undress him further.

"Your Grace," Aric began, his voice even as he glanced toward the king, "I see it far more strategic for me to remain here in the kingdom. My presence on the raids may draw unwanted attention from those who already know my identity."

Aszer chuckled, his brush never stopping as he worked on his painting. "You underestimate the flexibility of your plans, Prince Valerian. You can be masked, hidden if you need. Your mind is too valuable to remain behind."

One of the women whispered something into Aric’s ear, her lips brushing his skin as her hand slowly traced the edge of his jaw. He ignored the distraction, shifting his focus solely on the king. "But, Your Grace, secrecy is essential—"

A blonde woman pressed against him from the other side, her hands trailing down his torso, unbuttoning his cloak slightly as her fingers ventured further down. Aric caught her hand and gently pushed her away, though his shirt remained rumpled from their touch.

Aszer smirked, glancing over his shoulder at the scene unfolding. "Worry not, Valerian. This will only add to your legend. Besides, wouldn’t it be more thrilling to be on the front lines, ensuring your brilliant strategies succeed firsthand?"

The prince’s expression remained calm, but there was a flicker of something dark in his eyes.

Realizing further resistance was futile, Aric exhaled softly. "Very well, Your Grace. I will accompany the raids."

The prince wanted to clench his fist but restrained himself. He turned back to Aszer with an unreadable expression. "When do we leave?"

The king stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating the prince’s question. He knew a strategy like this couldn’t be delayed for too long, so immediate action was likely their best option.

"We leave three days from now. Meet us at the castle at dawn."

With that, Aric stepped back, brushing off the hands still lingering on him, and calmly adjusted his cloak, pulling it back over his shoulders with quiet precision. The women around him giggled and whispered to each other as they watched him, their touch still lingering on his skin.

Aric nodded respectfully, first to the women, then to the king. "Ladies. Your Grace."

Without another word, he turned and exited the chamber.

The king had played a smart move, and perhaps for the first time since Aric had arrived in Byzeth, things were not going according to plan. Aric had intended to orchestrate the downfall of the Byzeth government while their forces were out fighting pointless battles, but Aszer was smart enough to drag him along.

If he was on the battlefield, orchestrating anything would become far too difficult. All his plans would be severely crippled.

Aric would have insisted on refusing to accompany them, but he had come too far to make the king even slightly suspicious of his ambitions. The moment he was doubted, his plan to thin the Byzeth forces would be easily figured out, and if the king decided against multiple raids, it would become problematic.

"Aszer, you bastard."