Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Lucius couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to sit down with Marcus and enjoy a drink without the weight of a thousand worries pressing down on him. These past months had been a nightmare—every moment a fresh opportunity to die in some horrible, inventive way. At one point, he’d genuinely started checking his hair in the mornings, convinced it would have turned white overnight. The fact that it hadn’t felt like a small miracle.

But now? Now, life was sweet. The storm was behind him, and for once, the future didn’t look like a grim abyss. He was a married man, and to top it off, his wife had recently shared the best news of his life: they were expecting a child. A child! Him—a father. The thought made him laugh .It hadn’t been two years since he was destined to die as a slave, instead now look at him!

And if that wasn’t enough, he was rich. Rich! A year ago, he’d been scrounging for enough coin to keep his boots patched, and now he had enough money to buy a home—an actual home with proper walls and a roof that didn’t leak. Best of all, he hadn’t even dented his savings to do it. ”

Of course, he was already dreaming big. With all that coin sitting idle, maybe it was time to dip his toes into the world of business. Start a mercantile enterprise, perhaps. Who knew? Maybe he had a knack for trade. Worst case scenario, if the whole thing went belly-up, he’d still have his land and the tidy bonus waiting for him when he retired from the army next year.

Marcus raised his cup high with a grin that could rival the sun itself. ”To Lucius! Soon to be a father! May your kid inherit the mother’s side!” He turned, bellowing toward the counter where the innkeeperwas polishing a mug. ”Oi, old man! Did you hear? Your son-in-law’s going to be a father! Drinks should be on the house!”

The innkeeper shot Marcus a glare”Go fuck yourself, Marcus....’’ The innkeeper said before resuming cleaning the mug. Apparently he still hadn’t forgiven Marcus for the little group beating he had organized against him, and it was clear even during the marriage ceremony he wasn’t happy with him being there.

His hate toward Marcus, was of course only made deeper by the fact that even though he had reported the beating he had received to the garrison squad that patrolled the streets of Yarzat , nothing substantial was done and he was just given a slap on the wrist.

Marcus chuckled, tapping his cup against Lucius’s. ”Cheers to you, my friend. That’s no small news.”

Lucius smiled, a rare moment of genuine contentment crossing his face. ”Thanks, Marcus. You’ve been a solid friend through all this chaos. Speaking of... that promise you made when we got out of that hellhole—still holding up?”

Marcus nodded solemnly, though the gleam in his eye remained mischievous. ”I haven’t forgotten. I’m putting money away little by little.Hadn’t gone whoring since I came back. Got a pouch so heavy now it makes my belt sag. Soon enough, I’ll be a man of means.”

Lucius leaned forward, an eyebrow raised. ”And what about finding a wife? How’s that search going?”

Marcus groaned dramatically, leaning back and spreading his arms. ”Haven’t even tried, but why bother? Look at me.” He waved a hand toward himself like he was showcasing a prize horse. ”I’m rich, a decurion, and soon I’ll retire with land in my name. Who wouldn’t want all this?” He gestured to his not-so-impressive physique with mock grandeur. ”I’m practically a walking marriage contract.”

Lucius smirked and sipped from his cup, though inwardly, he couldn’t deny Marcus had a point. Both of them were successful men now wealthy, and on the rise. For all the hardship they’d endured, they’d come out ahead.

”Fair enough,” Lucius said, ”I suppose I should be glad for you that the competition’s only getting poorer.’’

After a bit , Lucius finally drained the last of his drink, setting the empty cup down on the table with a satisfied sigh. ”Well,” he said, stretching as he rose to his feet, ”it’s about time for lunch. I should head back before your drinking habits make me forget what day it is.”

Marcus, not one to be outdone, tilted his head back and downed his own cup in one smooth motion. He slammed it on the table with a grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ”Lunch, eh? Sounds better than sitting here and letting my stomach turn into a battlefield.It wouldn’t be bad to have a woman at home cooking for me.... I’ll tag along the way . After all,” he added with a smirk, ”someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get distracted on the way and show up late. Your wife will skin you alive.”

Lucius chuckled as he adjusted his belt. ”You’d love to see that, wouldn’t you?”

Marcus grinned as he pushed back his chair, standing with a slight stretch and a yawn. ”Not at all.’’

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As Marcus turned down a side street with a wave, Lucius continued down the familiar road toward his home. The bustle of the city surrounded him, but his thoughts were already on the warm haven waiting for him. By the time he reached the modest but well-kept house, his steps quickened. He pushed open the wooden door to be greeted by the comforting smell of something hearty cooking.

”Sabine?” he called out as he stepped inside, shrugging off his cloak and hanging it by the door.

Lucius walked into the small kitchen to find Sabine standing near the hearth, stirring a steaming pot. Her brown hair was tied back neatly, and her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the fire. She turned to smile at him, her eyes lighting up. ”You’re home.”

”I am,” Lucius said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. He peered over her shoulder at the pot. ”What are you cooking? Smells good.”

”Grain porridge,” she said, giving the pot one final stir before setting the ladle down. ”And boiled meat on the side. It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll fill us up.”

”It sounds perfect,” Lucius said with a grin as he moved to sit at the small table.

Sabine wiped her hands on her apron and turned to face him fully. ”Where were you earlier? I didn’t hear you come in last night.”

”Went to see your father,” Lucius replied, his tone casual as he adjusted his chair.

Sabine arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms. ”Shouldn’t you be at the military camp outside the city, though? You’re an officer, Lucius. They don’t usually give you that much time to stroll about the streets.”

Lucius shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. ”I’ve been given a month’s leave. Figured I’d spend it here, with you. Seems only fair after all the time I’ve been away.”

At that, Sabine’s stern expression melted. She stepped forward, leaning down to kiss him softly. ”It’s nice having you home. You didn’t say much about where you were for an entire month.”

”I already told you,” Lucius said, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest. ”I was on a mission .”

Sabine narrowed her eyes playfully, her voice light but probing. ”With the army that’s camped outside the city?”

Lucius faltered for a moment but then chuckled, shaking his head. ”It wasn’t with army. It was... a different mission.”

Sabine smirked as she went back to her cooking. ”A different mission. Right. You’ll have to work on that explanation.”

Lucius laughed,a nervous one.

A sudden knock echoed through the house, interrupting the comfortable silence. Sabine paused mid-motion, looking toward the door with a questioning glance.

”I’ll get it,” Lucius said, rising from his chair. He stretched briefly, his mind already wondering who it might be. As he walked through the small house, his boots thudded lightly against the wooden floorboards.

When he opened the door, the sight before him froze him in place. Standing there, framed by the warm light spilling out from the house, was the last person Lucius ever expected to see: Alpheo, the prince he had sworn to serve.

The prince’s striking features, sharp and unmistakable, were softened only slightly by the faint smile playing on his lips. His attire was plain , the last thing he thought a prince would wear, as he expected everything to be made of silk or precious metals.

For a moment, Lucius simply stared, his mind struggling to reconcile the impossibility of the scene with the reality before him. His mouth opened as if to speak, but no words came.

’’Who is it?’’ Sabine asked without turning around

What could he possibly say to explain why his prince was standing on his doorstep?

Alpheo’s smile widened slightly. ”May I come in?It is bad manner after all to leave a guest standing outside” he asked, his voice calm yet carrying the natural authority that made him a prince.