The constant crunching of dry leaves beneath the silent paws of the nyxes entwined with the pounding of Reiji's thoughts. He gripped the reins of his ride, settling beside Gat Kiyo's nyx in the middle of the caravan. Ten men rode behind them, and ten more rode ahead, with a lieutenant and bannerman heading the party.

They had left Kazima hours before dawn and journeyed toward the northern mountains to the army camp in Kataro. It was a day's ride, and they had not stopped since they left. As the late afternoon neared, so did their destination.

Reiji focused on the dirt road, fading in and out of his mind as he struggled with his recent revelation. Betrayal was a word he never truly understood until now. He had been too trusting, too youthful, not knowing treacherous people were lurking around him, acting like family.

How could the Kahani hide in plain sight, pretending she cared for him? Advising on the future and wanting for his end? Who else could want him dead?

He no longer allowed himself confidence because certainty was not real. From now on, he decided his life was his own, and he would not give control to anyone, no matter who they were or how much they showed they cared. And he would watch the people around him closely, which was the purpose of this trip.

"We're here, My Matu," Gat Kiyo spoke beside him.

Reiji woke from a trance. He looked up and saw the camp. The ground flattened where no trees or grass grew. Rows of tents set on the open clearing near the foot of a high mountain, and behind the fabric shelters stood two permanent barracks.

As they neared, gongs rang to signal their arrival. The man at the head of their caravan raised the green banner higher—its green flag emblazoned with stitched vines and thorns. Soldiers bowed their heads low at the front of the camp with their hands to their hearts.

Reiji's party passed through the aisle, between the rows of shelters—fabric and frames. Occupants came out with curious faces, and as soon as their eyes caught the banner, they followed the rest, leading their heads low to the ground.

The lieutenant and his platoon escorted Reiji and Gat Kiyo to the main barracks at the far end of the camp. It was a single-level wooden structure that looked more like a massive box than a building for quarters. Its windows were not made of the traditional capiz panes but were plain planks with hinges. And its roof was not built with shingles but with nipa palms like huts.

Reiji spotted Heneral Arkan standing by the main barracks entrance, waiting to greet him. Beside him was Zamira. They both wore their dark green army uniform with stripes over their arms, the royal crest of thorns gleaming in gold over a jadeite base hung on their chests over their hearts.

"My Matu!" The general sounded surprised as he walked out into the afternoon light. Reiji noted that the man looked younger with his hair combed and pushed away from his forehead.

The caravan stopped, and the men ahead parted to give way to Reiji and Gat Kiyo.

"Heneral Arkan," Reiji jumped off his ride and handed the reins to his attendant as the general bowed with a hand pressed over the crest on his chest. Reiji returned the formality of the greeting by doing the same, and Zamira followed suit.

"We were not expecting you," the general said, his eyes narrowed with confusion for a moment but then came delighted. He grinned. "You should have sent a messenger ahead for us to prepare for your arrival." Then he looked behind Reiji, his grin falling and his brows furrowing. "And you should not have traveled with so little escort."

"It was a decision made on impulse," Reiji said. "No one knew that I left and where I was heading, so no one would have the time to plan for my assassination."

"I don't trust that analogy, My Matu," the general said.

Trust. That word no longer meant anything to Reiji. The breaking of that word was the reason why he was here. After sending that message to Suluna, he had work to do and people to watch, including Heneral Arkan and Zamira.

For months, the general often visited army camps even when there was no need. The military continued its recruitment every day.

Reiji did not mind the growth of the army and thought it was necessary. But the general seemed intent—too passionate in building a greater force. Though the military had little funds, the general grew it stronger without the royal coffers' help. So how was he doing it?

Now, Reiji sensed that the general was hiding something, devising an unknown plan. Was Heneral Arkan and Zamira working with someone? And were they working to build the army to go against the throne? Not against the Kahani, but against Reiji—the true heir.

The general did not note Reiji's reaction. He turned to one of the waiting attendants behind him. "Get a tent set up for the Matu immediately." And they scrambled at his command.

"I'll only be staying for the night. I can sleep in the barracks with the men," Reiji said, but the attendants had already gone.

"That would be a change from your usual royal bed chamber," Zamira was grinning alongside the general. Her posture was straight, proud, and intimidating—a trait of the Maharlika in her. "You must miss the smell of sweat."

"I'm still used to it," Reiji smiled, but as soon as he felt his lips tug, he forced the reaction away, returning to a stoic form. He wanted to appear serious and in command, not the little Jiji they'd known him to be. "I want to see the recruits, and tomorrow I want you to accompany me back to Kazima." He directed the order to the general.

Heneral Arkan stared for a moment. The older man seemed to have caught on to his different mood. Reiji was not here for just a visit; he was not here for just casualness. He was here for action, for information, for the establishment of his authority. And to learn if the general or Zamira had anything to do with the assassins.

Confusion crossed the general's face. "But I have business here," he said. "I cannot leave, My Matu, but I can give you a hundred men to escort you back to Kazima."

"I insist," Reiji said sternly, feeling a newfound power. He had never ordered the general in such a way. It had always been in the form of a request, not in a way that the man could not say no to. It wasn't fun, but he didn't dislike it either.

"It's alright, papa," Zamira spoke to her father. "Jiji should only get the best escort. I'll ensure the camp won't burn down until you return."

Reiji wanted to smile at the endearment. He didn't want to admit that he liked it when Zamira called him Jiji. She was like a sister to him, and for her to act so casual was something he didn't want to lose. But he steadied his face and saw how Zamira's smile faded into curiosity.

The general stepped forward. "Very well. I'll accompany you back to the Ozaro Palace tomorrow." The confusion in his eyes faded. "Would you like to rest before seeing the recruits?"

"No, I want to see them now." After a full day of riding, Reiji was hungry and tired, but the sunlight was running out, nearing setting, so he needed to do what he came here to do—investigate the camp and the general for any coup.

Heneral Arkan gestured his hand and led the way, leaving Zamira by the barracks. They walked through the camp among soldiers who bowed at Reiji's presence. The dark and yellowing canvas of tents lined the path. By their current state, they had been there for some time, never replaced by more permanent quarters.

After the Sulunese war, the late Kaharaza ordered the army to rally in the northern region of Daracka. Few regiments stayed to hold outposts, but the majority were moved here.

The late Kaharaza meant this camp to be permanent, not to build forces to conquer the neighboring kingdoms but to build men to defend Daracka. It was not supposed to be only an encampment. But, by the looks of everything, it was nowhere near what the late Kaharaza had envisioned.

Despite the accommodations, the soldiers looked disciplined—the way they moved around and the way they bowed with respect. They maintained their livery in good condition, tucking their shirts in their trousers and their pants in their boots. Heneral Arkan was doing good work with them.

Reiji also noticed that more women mingled in the camp since he last visited. He hadn't realized that plenty of females wanted to join the army. Few had fought in the war two years ago. The Maharlika tradition allowed them to, but the Maginoo—Reiji's own culture—looked upon women in the army as an abnormality. It was a custom that he wanted to change. Women should be allowed to do as they please. They should be permitted to join the army as long as they meet the expectations.

Men can undoubtedly use women's wits and cunning abilities.

"You don't have to monitor the camp, My Matu," Heneral Arkan spoke as they walked.

"I am as interested in the army as you are, Heneral. After all, this will be mine one day." Reiji walked beside the older man, keeping his head high. Despite his distinctive height, he felt small among the soldiers, too young even though many were his age.

"Oh, but it is already yours," the general corrected. "I only meant that you shouldn't take my work from me. The army is my responsibility. But it is wise of you to have such interests. One day, when you are Kaharaza, you will learn that you will need to delegate such tasks."

Reiji nodded and noted the term when and not if you are Kaharaza. But he wouldn't need to become Kaharaza to learn such a thing. He could do it now. Every wisdom that the general threw at him, he could consume it now. The comprehension that he needed to acquire knowledge faster only dawned on him when he found that the Kahani had betrayed him. And he could no longer stay the foolish child. His years of being such were over.

As they continued to walk through the camp, Reiji recalled being a boy here, and he allowed himself to reminisce. "My father threw me in the army when I was only a decade old."

"I remember," the general said. "He wanted you to start training so young. Didn't even consider getting you a personal instructor first. He just fed you to the wolves like a piece of meat. The late Kaharaza was ruthless during those times, but he meant well, and I don't argue with his methods. Look at you now." Heneral Arkan gestured at Reiji's full body length. "Already a man."

Reiji snorted, and heat rose inside his chest at the compliment. "He made me hold a gun the minute I stepped into the camp."

"He let you hold a gun. And he didn't tell you to fire it, but you pulled the trigger and blasted a hole in the roof of his tent." The general chuckled, the sound lightening their moods. "Rainwater destroyed the maps, you know."

"I know." Reiji couldn't help but smile at the memory. He looked around the camp again. It had been a while since his last visit, but it seemed as if nothing much had changed. The numbers of soldiers indeed grew, but the physicality of everything remained the same—provisional. The late Kaharaza wanted this camp to have permanent barracks for all occupants, not tents and bedrolls. "Why are most soldiers still sleeping in tents, Heneral?" he asked.

"If it were up to me, these soldiers would be sleeping in castles," the general answered, scratching his thick beard. "But the funds for the army are only enough to feed them and pay their wages."

"I understand that," Reiji said. Money was always coming from the royal coffers, but they funded Master Kazuri's project.

Reiji had delayed this visit so long that he hadn't seen the issue before. He knew the Kahani's intent for the machine and the late Kaharaza's intent for this army. Both were for the good of Daracka, but the Kahani favored the former, and as regent, she caused an imbalance in the funding.

But was the funding for the army from the palace truly enough, or was the general taking other financing elsewhere?

"I will do something about it," Reiji said, and the general nodded. If Reiji had told this month ago, anyone would have laughed, including himself. Now, he was in a position to do something. He sighed at the realization.

If not for their proximity, the general wouldn't have heard the short, soft breath. But he did and said, "Some rulers only want to see the outcome. They turn their heads from the actual work needed to be done. And those who do the work are left only compensation, but never really appreciated. And some rulers who look deeper into their work only tend to be controlling. It's rare to be a well-balanced leader."

Reiji wondered which one he was. He asked if what he was doing now came off as trying to control the general and the army. But wasn't it what he was supposed to do? Still, he did appreciate the general's work in continuing to build this camp as the late Kaharaza had envisioned.

They soon reached an open field where the men and women lined up. Unlike the soldiers in livery, these people wore commoner clothes—tunics, trousers, skirts, and slippers.

Seventeen, Reiji counted them. Twelve men and five women. These were the recruits for the month, the new cadets.

He and Heneral Arkan walked to their ranks. A drill sergeant who commanded them halted and saluted Reiji and the general before stepping aside. Reiji's eyes passed over the faces of the cadets. A few of them looked younger than he expected. He stopped in front of a young boy who wore a yellowed shirt and dark brown trousers, his skin darkly burnt by years under the sun.

"How old are you?" Reiji asked.

"Five years over my first decade, My Matu," the young boy said without looking up at Reiji. He looked at the ground, keeping his head bowed. He was only a year younger than Reiji, and his face was that of a child's.

Reiji raised his brows. "You know me?" he asked.

The boy then dared to look up at him. "Of course," he whispered with a nervous breath. "You are the Matu." Then he dropped his face back to stare at his toes.

"They arrived only yesterday. We still don't have uniforms for them," Heneral Arkan said, and they moved down the line until they reached the last person. "Get on with their training," the general ordered the drill sergeant, who ushered the men and women to the center of the field.

Heneral Arkan didn't speak for a long while as if he was contemplating. They stood there, watching the men and women march away clumsily until they were gone. "Something has changed in you, Jiji. I'm not sure I like it," the general spoke without looking at Reiji. Then he turned to face him. "But know this. I will always support you as My Matu, My Kaharaza."

Reiji turned to gaze at the older man, trying to read into his dark eyes. He was sure there was truth in every word he heard, so sure this man with him now was loyal to the heir—to the Ozaro blood. But something twisted in Reiji's heart, telling him that he could not be foolish to believe.

Reiji only nodded and then looked in the direction the people had marched to as if he could still see them, but he only saw the camp line, the boundary where the tents gathered. 

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