Spring arrived with unusual warmth, bringing with it not just blooming gardens but blooming alliances. What had begun six months earlier as discreet meetings with Northern nobles had expanded into a careful network of concerned aristocrats, merchants, and even military officers from provinces throughout the Empire.

  Julian's Western estate, ostensibly focused on schorly pursuits and agricultural improvements, had become the center of a growing resistance to Augustus's influence. Lady Sophia's connections to Southern trading houses provided both intelligence and resources, while her genuine commitment to improving rural conditions gave Julian a perfect excuse to travel extensively.

  Today, Julian met with Lady Emmeline in the estate's conservatory, surrounded by exotic pnts that provided both beauty and privacy from potential eavesdroppers.

  "The Eastern banking houses are becoming nervous," Lady Emmeline reported, sipping her tea delicately. "Augustus has withdrawn substantial sums in recent months."

  "Preparing his position for our father's eventual passing," Julian mused. "The Emperor's health remains stable, but at sixty-five..."

  "Indeed. The succession looms ever present in courtiers' minds." She hesitated. "There's more troubling news. Augustus has been meeting privately with foreign ambassadors—not through official channels."

  Julian frowned. "Which nations?"

  "Nordicia and the Eastern Federation. Both historical rivals of our Empire."

  "Military allies," Julian concluded. "Or potential recognition for his cim should succession become... contested."

  "Precisely my concern." Lady Emmeline pced a sealed letter on the table between them. "This arrived from my contact in the diplomatic corps. Augustus has proposed marriage to Princess Yvraine of Nordicia."

  Julian's eyebrows rose. "Augustus is already married to Duchess Helena."

  "A matter he apparently intends to resolve. The Duchess has been sent to her family estate 'for her health.' Rumors suggest her wine has been increasingly ced with substances that indeed make her appear unstable."

  Natalie, who stood nearby arranging flowers as a pretense for her presence, felt a chill despite the conservatory's warmth. Poisoning one's wife to arrange a more advantageous match—Augustus's corruption had progressed from financial to moral.

  "We must warn her," Julian said immediately.

  "Already done," Lady Emmeline assured him. "My niece serves as her dy's maid. The Duchess now has food tasters and loyal guards from her father's household."

  Julian nodded approvingly. "Your foresight continues to impress, my dy."

  "One doesn't survive court by waiting for daggers to appear before donning armor," she replied with a graceful shrug.

  Their meeting continued for another hour, discussing developments across the Empire. Twenty-eight nobles of significant standing now shared Julian's concerns about Augustus, with more joining monthly as evidence of corruption spread.

  Later that afternoon, Julian held a different sort of meeting in his study. Captain Westfield had returned from his test Northern expedition with detailed maps and reports.

  "The mercenary forces continue to grow, Your Highness," Westfield reported. "They now number nearly three thousand, housed in these five compounds." He indicated locations on the map spread across Julian's desk.

  Sir Rond, Julian's former swordmaster who had recently joined his cause, studied the positions with a military eye. "Strategic locations. They could control major roads and river crossings with minimal effort."

  "And their composition?" Julian asked.

  "Mostly foreign fighters—Nordician mountain men, Eastern Federation cavalry, even some desert mercenaries from the Southern continent. Professional soldiers for hire, not idealists or patriots."

  Julian paced slowly behind his desk. "Augustus prepares for potential resistance to his rule. But from whom? Our father shows no sign of removing him as heir."

  "Perhaps he fears you, Your Highness," Sir Rond suggested bluntly.

  "Me?" Julian looked genuinely surprised. "I've given him no cause."

  "You exist," Rond replied simply. "And you grow in capability and connection daily. An ambitious man always fears potential rivals, however unthreatening they appear."

  Natalie, organizing documents nearby, felt her stomach tighten at Rond's assessment. She had harbored simir fears but hearing them voiced made the danger suddenly more tangible.

  After the military advisors departed, Julian summoned Lord Jasper Hallewell, who had become his primary Northern ally.

  "The time has come to formalize our network," Julian told him. "Too many independent actors risks exposure or misalignment."

  "A council of some sort?" Hallewell suggested.

  "Of sorts," Julian agreed. "But without the trappings or documentation of official bodies. I've prepared this." He handed Hallewell a sealed document. "Memorize the structure, then burn it. Each member will know only their immediate connections and a single path to me."

  Hallewell looked impressed. "A resistance cell structure. Military in design."

  "Precisely. Should any member be compromised, damage can be contained." Julian's expression was solemn. "I pray we need never activate it for its intended purpose, but Augustus's actions leave me no choice but to prepare."

  That evening, Julian dined with Sophia in their private chambers, Natalie serving them personally—an arrangement that allowed sensitive conversations without additional servants present.

  "The Nordician princess is sixteen," Sophia commented as she delicately cut her roasted pheasant. "Young enough to bear many heirs."

  "And her father controls the rgest standing army beyond our borders," Julian added. "Augustus courts both alliance and military advantage."

  Sophia sipped her wine thoughtfully. "The nobles whisper that the Emperor's health declined noticeably during st week's council meeting."

  Julian nodded solemnly. "Captain Laurent reported the same. The Imperial Physician has been summoned thrice in the past fortnight."

  "Time may be shorter than we anticipated," Sophia observed.

  "Then we must accelerate our preparations," Julian replied with quiet determination. "Tomorrow I'll meet with the Western military commanders. Your father arrives the following day with the Southern delegation."

  Natalie watched them pn with increasing sophistication and scope. At eighteen, Julian had transformed from the schorly prince into a leader of genuine substance, commanding respect not through title but through character and vision. The contrast with Augustus could not be more stark—one brother building power through intimidation and wealth, the other through respect and principle.

  As she refilled their wine gsses, Natalie realized with sudden crity that Julian was no longer merely responding to Augustus's corruption—he was positioning himself as an alternative. Whether he recognized it fully or not, Julian was becoming exactly what his brother most feared: a legitimate rival for the throne.