Chapter 1191

Randall remained silent, his hands clenched tightly beneath the table. The cold bit, yet his palms were damp with sweat. He knew a choice had to be made.

When he first became a Supreme Court warden, he'd spent countless hours wrestling with decisions, unsure of the right course. Matthew, noticing his restlessness, had advised him not to worry. "Focus only on what's in front of you," Matthew had said. Without that focus, Randall had no answers.

Now, facing Rafael's piercing question, he stared blankly. The prince's gaze clouded his mind. Almost instinctively, he said, "There are soldiers in Lunvale, though I don't know how many."

"How do you know this?" Rafael asked.

Mentioning the Lunvale soldiers made Randall's heart skip a beat, yet it quickly steadied. Making a choice felt easier than he'd anticipated. With newfound calm, he continued, "I overheard talk of it in the study at Valken. The two-story study was large; I stayed upstairs, reading. Occasionally, I'd hear them talking downstairs. Much was unclear, but Lunvale came up several times, along with Stonebridge, Grantham, Fenrose, and Larkspur counties, and other places I can't recall. I once overheard them discussing sending supplies to Lunvale."

Rafael frowned. Something didn't add up. How could Yuvan support troops in multiple locations? How vast was his power? Raising an army wasn't as simple as opening a shop. Troops required a fully functioning support system: local connections, a steady supply of food, weapons, and resources.

As far as Rafael knew, Yuvan lacked the strength and finances for such an undertaking. Even setting aside Stonebridge and Grantham counties, Fenrose and Larkspur counties were closer to Nanyara, at least a thousand miles from Ebonflow. If a rebellion occurred, how much support could those soldiers offer Yuvan, and how many obstacles would they face sending aid?

"Did they mention sending supplies anywhere else besides Lunvale?" Rafael asked.

"I couldn't really hear them," Randall replied, "but it's unlikely they'd mention unimportant locations."

"What else did they mention?" Rafael pressed.

Randall paused, thinking carefully before shaking his head. "I can't remember. There might have been more, or there might not."

"Think hard. Anything else? Anyone they were particularly close to?"

"Most dealings were through letters or arranged meetings outside. Horizon Estate only served as a discussion point. My father is cautious—he fears spies from the capital."

Randall paused. "Actually, in Valken, my father's reputation is good. Though my mother died at Verdant Monastery, everyone knows he sought renowned physicians and spent vast sums on her treatment. He claimed her death was her wish when he married Lady Molly."

Rafael already knew this. Yuvan had spent twenty years cultivating his reputation, investing considerable money and effort. He was obsessed with his public image, highly sensitive to criticism, and deeply vain. This wasn't surprising. But some things puzzled Rafael.

In the capital, Yuvan's connections were made through Eleanor, and Henry's concubines' daughters married into prestigious families. Their involvement seemed designed to create chaos among the nobles, distracting them from other matters.

Yuvan's methods weren't exactly clean. How had he expanded his forces so far and wide? Who was helping him behind the scenes? That person might be pulling the strings.

Rafael produced a list and handed it to Randall. "Have you seen any of these people at Horizon Estate? Or observed any dealings between your father and them?"

Randall examined the list, then pointed to a name. "Before we returned to the capital, General Tiberius came once to borrow money from my father."

Rafael raised an eyebrow. "What about the other names? Have you ever seen them?"

"I've met some at festivals. Just casual exchanges. My father sometimes complained about someone sending insufficient gifts and would overcompensate."

"Honestly, I never understood my father's schemes. It wasn't until the last year or two, especially after Aunt—Eleanor's—rebellion came to light, that I began to piece things together," Randall replied.

Rafael regarded him silently. Years under the same roof, and Randall still hadn't known about his father's activities. His expression didn't seem feigned. It was hard to decide whether to call him naive or dense.