The hooves of the horses hammered the trail. Yesterday's rain had filled the ruts with muddy puddles, but that didn't stop the riders. Fir trees raced past them. Prince Jasper deeply breathed in the resinous scent of the undergrowth. He was determined to make the most of this moment of freedom.

That morning, he had taken only a small entourage with him. Irons and Sandon easily maintained the frenzied pace he set. Their riding abilities and unwavering loyalty were the main reasons why he had chosen them. Their discretion as well. He had no desire for the entire court to discuss the crown prince's morning escapades, leading his father to reprimand him for not surrounding himself with an escort befitting his status. Let him enjoy a bit of privacy!

In any case, it would have been very difficult to accuse the young prince of selfishness.

Indeed, from the moment he woke up, seized by an irresistible desire to get some fresh air outside the royal palace, he couldn't settle for an ordinary walk. He had set a goal, and it was not far off.

The pine forest lining the trail had thinned, revealing the surrounding countryside.

"We're nearing, Your Highness!" Irons shouted from behind.

Jasper nodded. Moments later, he urged his mount toward the embankment. His gray eyes sparkled with excitement as the animal leaped off the path. The horses enthusiastically trampled the damp grass. The riders leaned over their necks to avoid low-hanging branches, and a few pine needles stuck to their coats. They jumped over a ditch still carrying muddy water.

Having a goal didn't stop them from taking a few liberties with the path.

Leaving the forest behind them, they climbed a green hill. At its summit, Jasper took a short pause. A river meandered below amidst groves of willows and poplars with golden leaves.

The crown prince spurred his horse and galloped straight toward the men working on the banks. As they approached, the riders noted the progress of the construction. The six pillars of the bridge were already emerging from the foamy waters. A sturdy wooden scaffold supported the construction of the first arch. Jasper smiled with pride.

It would be the most modern bridge in the kingdom, built with the latest techniques. Its deck would be wide enough for two carts to pass each other safely. He had to argue fiercely for his father to agree to such a project, so he considered himself directly responsible.

At the foot of the hill, the riders joined the road leading to the river. Jasper stopped his horse and dismounted next to a wagon of hewn stones that the workers were unloading. He removed his blue velvet cap to wipe the sweat from his forehead and absentmindedly ran a hand through his short blond hair.

Alerted by the sound of hooves, the foreman, a small, dry, and nervous man, rushed toward the visitors to usher them away. He stopped abruptly upon recognizing the prince. Panic crossed his gaze. He quickly took off his cap and multiplied his bows.

"Your Highness, we were not informed of your arrival! I will gather the workers so that you can review them. We will make room for your entourage."

Jasper hated witnessing the commotion his appearance caused. Sometimes he felt like he could see the thoughts colliding in the minds of his subjects: 'Do I have enough feathers on my hat, enough lace on my jabot?' when it came to nobles or bourgeoisie. The common people were more likely to think, 'What have I done wrong?' or 'I hope I go unnoticed.' So, Prince Jasper gave a reassuring smile and gestured for the man to straighten up.

"Let the workers continue. My visit was not planned, and my entourage is quite small. We don't take up much space."

The foreman wiped his shiny forehead with his cap and nervously twisted it between his hands.

"How are the works progressing?" Jasper asked to ease his embarrassment. "When do you think it will be completed?"

With Sandon and Irons trailing behind, the prince advanced toward the riverbank, weaving between crates, tools, and stacks of stones that cluttered the area. In his path, some workers abruptly moved aside, turning away, or stood still, murmuring, their eyes fixed on their large boots. Jasper greeted them nonetheless, thanking them for their involvement and work. He had a word for each of those who crossed his path. The foreman trotted alongside them, keeping a few steps away from the crown prince.

"Everything is going well," he proudly affirmed. "Despite the recent flood, we have managed to keep to the schedule. If the winter is mild and if the Mighty Golden Dragon lends us its strength, the bridge will be completed in spring."

Which included many 'ifs.'

Jasper was not naive; the bridge probably wouldn't be ready before summer. But it didn't matter. The benefits it would bring were worth the wait. The Nevala River was capricious. Frequent floods had swept away more than one of the wooden bridges crossing it, and the few fords were dangerous. The construction of the new bridge would open up the region separated from the capital by the Nevala. Goods would circulate more easily, and it would be easier to come to the aid of villages in case of emergency. Troop movements would also be simplified.

Jasper frowned. That was certainly not the reason he had pressured his father so much to finance the bridge's construction, but one had to consider the war. The border clashes had been going on for almost a century, and unfortunately, it had become an integral part of daily life.

The prince sighed and redirected his attention to the construction site.

In front of them, firmly anchored on the bank, two slender pillars announced the future splendor of the structure. Workers were busy on the first arch, gradually bringing in the ochre stones to assemble them.

Jasper only had to squint his eyes to imagine the finished work, the seven graceful arches soaring over the river, the majestic statue of the Mighty Golden Dragon he wanted to see in the middle of the bridge, protecting passersby with its outstretched wings. It would undoubtedly be an exceptional monument, the first of its kind in the entire Kingdom of Dawn.

Satisfied with his inspection, Jasper signaled to his two bodyguards that it was time to leave.

"We won't disturb you any longer," he announced to the foreman, who couldn't completely suppress a sigh of relief. "You are doing an excellent job ; you can be proud of yourselves."

"Thank you, Your Highness. If you allow me, I... uh..."

The man kneaded his cap more vigorously, head bowed.

"I'm listening," encouraged Jasper.

"My eldest son will be nineteen in two months. I... He..."

The prince darkened. He knew all too well what that meant.

"Your Highness, do you already know which letters will be chosen for the New Year?"

"What is your son's name?" Jasper asked gently.

"He is named Pebble, my lord."

Jasper sadly shook his head.

"I know that many unfounded rumors circulate, yet the initials are genuinely drawn by lot. And the 'P' has not been drawn for several years. I hope for your sake that he will be lucky. But let me tell you that the three years of service on the border are not as arduous as one imagines. The pay is good, and skirmishes are much less frequent than ten years ago."

He couldn't completely hide his embarrassment. As a royal highness, he was not subject to the draft. However, he had already served a year in the troops stationed on the border, and he knew he would have to go back to perfect his military education.

He reassured the foreman as best he could and decided to take his leave, a lump in his throat. The man left in a new series of bows while expressing embarrassed thanks.

The mounts waited for their rider, nibbling on the short grass tufts between the equipment crates. Jasper grabbed his horse's reins and stroked its cream-colored fur with a few affectionate words. Then he mounted with ease and urged the animal onto the road. Irons and Sandon followed suit, faithful shadows.

An hour later, the trio came into view of the capital. Albàn sprawled proudly in the center of the small Kingdom of Dawn. Jasper had not chosen their route home at random. It offered a sweeping view of their city that he particularly appreciated. As always, an involuntary smile stretched across his lips. He could recognize each of the red and white brick houses, the pointed roofs, the golden domes of the temples of the Mighty Golden Dragon. He could make out the avenues cutting wide swaths between the buildings, the parks spreading their greenery to let the city breathe. To the east, the royal palace extended to the outskirts, its majestic form surrounded by well-ordered gardens.

Behind them, occupying the entire horizon, the distant silhouette of the mountains thrust its sharp peaks into the sky. The Cradle Range enclosed the kingdom in its monumental embrace, isolating it from the rest of the world. When the sun rose, its perpetually snow-covered summits ignited like jewels. Dawn was the privileged moment when, eyes turned toward the mountains, everyone could feel special, where everyone could believe that this spectacle was just for them.

Prince Jasper and his escort entered the city at a trot. The horses' hooves clacked confidently on the road. As soon as they began to encounter pedestrians, Sandon and Irons moved closer to encircle him.

"It's very imprudent," Sandon grumbled. "We're not numerous enough to ensure your security. Why did you want to enter the city from this side?"

Under the bushy eyebrows of the veteran, dark eyes pierced Jasper with disapproval.

"Come on, now," said the prince, shrugging his broad shoulders. "What do you think will happen to me?"

"I know that the people love you, but aren't you afraid of an excess of... enthusiasm if you are recognized?"

A carriage passed them at full speed with a clatter of wheels on uneven cobblestones. Sandon jumped and put his hand on the hilt of the saber that beat against his thigh.

"Relax, my friend. I'm not in danger."

"That's what you say," Sandon grumbled under his mustache.

Jasper knew that the old soldier omitted his title only for fear of attracting attention, and he had better things to do than hold it against him. He preferred to look at the people going about their business around him.

A greengrocer invaded the sidewalk with crates of red apples, golden pears, and round pumpkins with green and orange segments. Basket under his arm, buyers spoke loudly, exchanging the latest gossip while feeling the merchandise. A bit further along the avenue, a cobbler resoled shoes in his shop that opened onto the street. The smell of new leather emanating from it signaled his activity more surely than any sign. Jasper's eyes were drawn to strings of blown glass animals swaying on the displays of the next store. Horses with long slender legs were juxtaposed with birds with colorful wings. Translucent chimes tinkled delicately in the wind.

"Oh, look!" someone suddenly cried.

"Oho," Irons whispered, seemingly unimpressed by the situation.

"Look, it's Prince Jasper, there!"

"Yes, it's him!"

"Your Highness, Your Highness!"

The cries filled the street. Passersby turned, and began to gather on the sidewalks.

"It was bound to happen," Irons chuckled.

Nevertheless, he brought his mount closer to that of the prince. Sandon imitated him, grumbling in his bad mood. Jasper smiled and waved his hand to greet the people who crowded to see him. It only took a few minutes for the crowd to assemble. Windows opened along their path to reveal curious faces. Children, perched on their parents' shoulders, waved to him, their eyes shining with joy. Jasper tried to have a glance for everyone despite the acceleration Sandon imposed on their pace. Four gendarmes with bicorn hats patrolling in the neighborhood took it upon themselves to push people back onto the sidewalks. However, the crowd's attitude remained good-natured. Appearances of the royal family in the city were frequent enough not to cause hysteria.

Sandon's posture had just begun to relax when a louder voice suddenly cut through the cheerful hubbub.

"War, we must stop the war!"

"Stop sending our children to death for nothing!" another voice continued.

Jasper's smile tightened. The gendarmes grabbed the truncheons hanging from their belts. There was a stir in the crowd as the dissatisfied ones melted away. Protests rose in the commotion that followed.

"Let them be!" Jasper ordered in a loud voice.

The intervention of the gendarmes should not exacerbate the situation, tipping the crowd to the side of the protesters. It was natural to stand against the war, and if it were up to him, it would have been over long ago.

He had never really understood why his father hadn't put an end to it. He was much less bellicose than his own father. It seemed that after all these years, the war with the Kingdom of Dusk had become a habit, or worse, a tradition.

Jasper was not naive, however; he suspected that peace would never satisfy everyone. Smuggling products from the Fall region fattened many unscrupulous merchants, despite the Crown's repeated efforts to put an end to it. As for the clergy, how could they accept sharing this symbolic piece of land with the followers of the false god?

The crowd had scattered, and the three riders urged their horses. There was no point in letting the same scene replay a little further on. They quickly crossed the next district where the bicolor facades of the mansions watched them pass with indifference, then they reached the large star-shaped square toward which the main avenues of the capital all converged. In the center rose the equestrian statue of Jasper's great-great-grandfather, King Onyx, the first of their dynasty. The haze surrounded his rise to power, and Jasper strongly suspected that he shamelessly took advantage of the disturbances caused by the early years of war to oust his cousin from the throne.

The royal palace was there, just on the other side of the square. The riders approached the high wrought-iron gates that protected it. After the initial panic of discovering the crown prince outside the palace walls when they hadn't seen him leave, the sentinels hastened to give him passage. Jasper and his bodyguards crossed the obelisks that marked the entrance. Both were topped with a sparkling statue of the Mighty Golden Dragon, claws extended and mouth wide open.