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“Are you certain? Or are you here to tell me, again, that I’m incompetent?”

“Edward, I don’t think you’re incompetent.” Charles sighed. “I know I am hard on you, but?—”

“You don’t?” Edward asked incredulously, running a hand through his hair. “You’ve been against every decision I’ve made since I inherited the duchy.”

“That’s only because I worry about?—”

“The ruination of our family, I know. You’ve screamed it in my ears every day for the last ten years.” He knew he sounded like he was whining, but he didn’t need Charles to tell him he was a failure. He already knew it. “But I am not Father. I want the best for our family, too. You’re not the only one who lost a father. You’re not the only one with that stain on your soul. You’re not the only one who has to carry that burden. I do too, and I have to put on a smile while doing so, so you can live freely.”

Charles frowned, looking away from him. “I meant no harm by my actions.”

“It matters not whether you meant it or not. Your words… they’ve become reality. I have failed my wife. Our family. I have failed to protect my home.” Edward hung his head.

Charles walked up to him, squeezing his shoulder. “You cannot give up just yet.” He smiled. “Tell me what you’ve?—”

The sound of approaching hooves drew their attention. They turned around and saw the constables approaching at top speed. Edward was grateful they’d come speedily and mounted his horse.

“Your Grace,” they greeted as they stopped before them.

Edward wasted no time answering them but pointed at the tracks he’d been following.

“They’re moving fast, but from here I can’t seem to identify which trail is theirs.”

The route was a common one used by many wagons, so his tracking ability, albeit useful for prey, was limited here. He sincerely hoped they’d prove useful, even though he’d had countless reasons not to trust them in the past. He hoped they at least had a good tracker in their ranks, or the wait would have been futile.

The head constable nodded, beckoning one of the younger constables to come forward.

“Mikhail’s the best tracker among us. He can sniff a trail from?—”

“Then let him get started,” Edward snapped, not caring for a speech about their proficiency.

“Y-yes, Your Grace.”

Edward would have felt some degree of shame for how he’d acted if he was in a better mood, but his worry for Arabella’s safety made him irrational. He would worry about apologizing later.

He had yet to process the fact that it was Joana who’d done something so despicable, all because she… loved him? It made no sense whatsoever that she’d behave the way she did.

She’d been so close with Arabella and seemed the most happy about his marriage, but it seemed they’d been effectively misled.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts, and looked at his brother, who was beckoning him over.

“Come, they’ve found their trail,” Charles called.

Edward nodded, drawing closer.

The young constable, Mikhail, pointed to their left. “They’re heading west.”

“West is towards the coast,” the head constable pointed out.

“And they are at least an hour ahead of us,” Charles added. “We need to ride hard if we are to catch up with them.”

They spurred their horses into action, not even slowing as the light dimmed and night fell. They hoped the people they were tracking would be at least more cautious and slow down.

They rode hard till they emerged into the open road. Edward kept whispering the same prayer over and over again.

“We have to slow down, Your Grace,” the head constable yelled over the sound of horses’ hooves. “’Tis dangerous to travel so fast so late at night.”

Edward ignored the man, kicking his heels into his stallion’s flanks.