And just like that, she left. Silent as she had arrived, slipping out of his chambers without a word.

Nwadiebube set the rapport aside and rose, pacing the length of his room. The idea that had sparked his action refused to leave him, expanding with every step, every rotation of his thoughts. He traced its implications, ran simulations, and weighed potential outcomes. The truth of it, he realized, would depend entirely on her next move on whether she would confirm or contradict the theory that had now taken hold in his mind.

Night after night passed in silence. The absence of the female mage gnawed at him, casting doubt over his plan. Perhaps the idea had been wrong. Perhaps she had simply retreated, indifferent or cautious. Yet on the third night, the quiet shattered: she returned.

And this time, Nwadiebube was ready.

This time, she did not drift behind him. Instead, she moved deliberately, almost lazily, and settled onto the sofa in his office. Nwadiebube said nothing. He did not glance at her, did not acknowledge her presence. His focus remained absolute, anchored to the task before him as if she did not exist even as the air between them thickened with her silent, simmering killing intent.

She shifted, twisted, turned, making faint, unusual noises, scratches, sighs, small provocations meant to draw his attention. Yet Nwadiebube remained immovable, an unyielding pillar of indifference.

Finally, she could bear it no longer. Rising, she strode toward him, purpose in every step. The moment her hand reached toward him, or her gaze sought to pierce his, he spoke, voice low and cold, the same as before:

"Leave."

The female mage bit her lip, frustration flickering across her features. She huffed sharply, a sound of both irritation and reluctant acknowledgment, before retreating from the room. Her departure left only the faintest trace of tension in the air and an unmistakable confirmation for Nwadiebube.

Satisfied, he quickly called upon his sister, Nwadimma. When she appeared, he began explaining his current actions and the broader plan that had begun to take shape.

"Something is at play here," he said. "This envoy from the southern continent… she has taken a liking to me. Perhaps for some ulterior motive, perhaps for something else entirely. It does not matter. There is advantage to be gained, and I intend to use it."

For reasons unknown, the female mage's attachment or curiosity was an opportunity. Nwadiebube's mind raced, mapping possibilities and calculating outcomes. In this subtle contest of wills, he now held the edge, and he intended to exploit it fully.

"If I were to… woo her," Nwadiebube murmured, almost to himself, his eyes narrowing as he traced possibilities in his mind, "she might let me in on things hidden from us, secrets of their master, the true purpose behind their missions, what he hopes to achieve by aiding us. There is much to be gained if I play this correctly."

Nwadimma studied him carefully, weighing the implications as she listened. "I understand the potential, brother," she said slowly, "but consider the cost. If this becomes known, it would be a scandal, and a terrible look for a king. Worse, it could deeply unsettle the queen, and our family. Every move you make will be watched not just by her, but by your court, your allies, and your enemies. One misstep…"

Nwadimma could see her brother resisting her advice and so she decided to make it more clear.

Nwadimma's expression was serious as she spoke, "Brother, I understand the advantage this could bring but a king seen pursuing a female envoy, even under the guise of diplomacy… the queen will hear of it, the court will whisper, and the children… they will not understand."

Nwadiebube nodded slowly, absorbing her words. "You're right," he admitted, a rare humility threading through his tone. "I had not considered how this might affect them."

"You must," Nwadimma said firmly. "Before this begins, the queen and the children need to know. Even if you cannot share everything, they must understand enough to trust your actions."

He exhaled, not liking the idea but found it a necessity. "Very well. I will speak to them. But only enough to convey the necessity, nothing more."

Later, he gathered his family in the private chamber. His queen, serene yet watchful, regarded him with a quiet intensity. The children, sensing the gravity of the moment, fell silent, their eyes wide.

"I have something important to tell you all," Nwadiebube began, choosing each word carefully. "There are… actions I may be seen taking in the coming days that could be misunderstood. They are necessary for the protection of the kingdom and our family."

The queen raised an eyebrow. "Actions that could be seen how, exactly?"

He allowed a brief pause before answering. "I cannot disclose every detail, not yet. But know this: everything I do will serve a purpose greater than appearances. I need you to trust me, even if what you see may alarm you."

One of his children, a young boy with curiosity brimming in his eyes, spoke up. "Father… are you in danger?"

Nwadiebube smiled faintly, a gesture meant to reassure. "No, not danger, not yet. But caution and awareness will be required. This is why I am telling you now, so you understand what is coming and are prepared to remain steady."

The queen's gaze softened, though concern lingered. "Very well. I trust you… but remember, we are your family. Do not carry this alone."

"I will not," he promised, bowing his head slightly. "But some burdens must be shared in understanding, not in full disclosure. This is one of them."

A few nights passed in silence before the female mage appeared again. Once more, she made her way to the sofa, moving without sound, her presence almost like a shadow settling into the room. She did not speak, did not fidget, simply sat, her gaze fixed on Nwadiebube as he worked, observing him with an intensity that made the air between them taut.

Finally, he set down his quill and leaned back slightly, lifting his gaze toward her. The subtle shift in his posture seemed to take her by surprise; she raised an eyebrow, just the faintest twitch betraying her composure. Nwadiebube noticed the quickening of her heartbeat, a rapid, almost imperceptible rhythm he could sense even from where he sat.

He rose from his seat, every movement deliberate, measured, commanding without the need for force. He approached the fireplace, the soft glow casting shadows across his face, and turned toward her. His voice, low and steady, carried a weight she had never heard from him before, an edge of authority tempered with quiet expectation.

"Accompany me for a night walk," he said.

The words hung in the room, impossible to ignore. The female mage blinked, caught off guard by the unfamiliar tone, her eyes widening ever so slightly. For a heartbeat, silence reigned, the only sound the faint crackle of the fire between them.

The door closed behind them with a soft click, and the cool night air greeted them as they stepped out into the quiet corridors of the palace. Moonlight spilled over polished stones, casting long, pale shadows that seemed to stretch toward them. Nwadiebube walked with calm precision, his hands clasped behind his back, and she fell into step beside him, silent for the moment.

For several minutes, neither spoke. The only sound was the soft echo of their footsteps, the distant rustle of leaves, and the faint hiss of the palace guards at their posts. She watched him, the way his posture carried authority effortlessly, how even in stillness there was a weight to him that demanded attention.

Finally, she ventured, her voice low and careful, "You… don't usually invite people for night walks."

He did not answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, as though weighing the right words. "No," he said after a pause, voice calm, deliberate. "I do not."

The statement was simple, but the subtle emphasis made it impossible to ignore. She shifted slightly, the fabric of her cloak brushing against the stone, and tried again, curiosity seeping in despite herself. "Then why now?"

Nwadiebube's gaze moved to the moonlit horizon, then back to the path before them. "Perhaps it is time to observe things… without distraction," he said softly.

She considered his words, her hands tightening slightly at her sides. There was a quiet intelligence in his presence, a patience that seemed to measure her very thoughts. It suddenly struck her that she was not well prepared, she felt that whatever game she thought she understood might not be hers to control.

After a long stretch of silence, Nwadiebube finally broke it, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge of curiosity.

"Tell me," he said, eyes fixed on the path ahead, "why do you always appear in my chambers?"

The female mage stiffened, her steps faltering just slightly. She tilted her head, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away, as if weighing her answer. "I… observe," she said finally, her voice steady, though there was a subtle tightness to it. "You are… unusual and I find you to my liking."