Salvation of The Scum Fifth Prince

[47 - discovered; soulful thanks]

The priority would be meeting up with Raphael and Brioc — wherever those fools had wandered off to after Soren's capture.

In the castle, most likely. Seeing as Erlen had been instructed to break Soren out, the others would've been searching for information. If things went accordingly with Alvara, there was a large aspect of the plan which relied on that mysterious fox.

Why was such a major role applied to somebody not even there?

Because Damien was the most trustworthy person — in both the novel Soren had read, and in the prince's own judgement.

He wandered through the halls thinking such thoughts, following the maid who'd he instructed to lead him secretly to the room with uniforms. As she ushered the few servants wandering in the area, he glanced back.

Erlen looked around, confliction in his amber eyes which darted around. Walking around so freely — was this really a stealth mission?

As if noticing the confusion, Soren asked, "What?"

"Well..." Erlen frowned, stepping forward as he said in a hushed tone, "Shouldn't we be more cautious?"

"Yeah."

"Then?"

"Too much work."

The main point was that they weren't caught. Regardless, the Haze King likely knew of their involvement and that Soren had escaped from the cell. It wasn't a matter of sneaking around and hiding; it was a matter of not being known.

With the few words, he stepped into a dim room, and Erlen, after a moment of hesitation, stepped through after him.

It was a small, dusty room, which was far too compact to hold everything it did. Rows of clothing cramped together on thin hangers, jammed against the wall tightly.

The servants' quarters.

A few seats were neatly pushed into a crumbling wooden table, and a stack of paper sat quietly.

It was clean, but its worn furniture and cramped space made it feel anything but. The Haze King cared only for himself. His servants were another thing he overlooked.

Yet they stayed.

Perhaps because they had nowhere else to go, or that they had no choice anymore. Running away from a position under the King was a risky move, because he'd either not care at all, or destroy them for daring to escape.

Soren reached out and pulled off a simple, black attire that was formal and proper, though lacking the clean nobility his clothes often radiated.

The ball would be held that evening and occur for several days. It was the last day that would be the peak of excitement, standing so high it could only crash once toppled.

This wouldn't be the disguise they'd wear for the ball, however. But that part of the plan relied on Damien, and it was something to be revealed later.

"Step outside, and knock if somebody comes." said Soren smoothly as the maid nodded, stepping outside.

Erlen glanced at her. "Is she completely under your control?"

"It'll fade soon."

He yanked at his robe, folding it into a pile before tugging on the slim white shirt, pulling over the night-coloured jacket which had signs of wear in the corners. When he pulled off his pants, Erlen finally reacted.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

Soren frowned, continuing to tug off his pants. "Changing."

"What?"