_*]:min-w-0 !gap-3.5">Don't move," Natalie instructed, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Julian froze obediently, half-risen from his desk chair, his eyes questioning. Natalie held up one finger in the shaft of afternoon sunlight streaming through the study window, then pointed deliberately to the floor near the door.

  A thin wire gleamed almost invisibly in the sunlight, stretched taut across the doorway at ankle height.

  "Well done, Your Highness," she said with approval. "You noticed something was amiss."

  Julian slowly sat back down, eyeing the tripwire with a mixture of anger and resignation. "Augustus?"

  "Most likely," Natalie confirmed, carefully stepping over the wire to examine it more closely. "Though I doubt he set it himself. This has Tiberius's handiwork written all over it."

  In the three weeks since the Emperor's birthday celebration, Prince Augustus's campaign against his youngest brother had grown increasingly sophisticated. After Julian's well-received presentation at the council meeting—where his innovative approach to the grain distribution problems had earned praise from several influential governors—Augustus had abandoned his usual crude tactics of mockery and intimidation in favor of more subtle methods.

  "It's attached to something in the corridor," Natalie reported after her inspection. "Likely designed to trigger when you leave for your afternoon ride."

  Julian nodded thoughtfully. "The one Lord Chancellor Voss arranged with his grandson." His eyes narrowed. "How did they know about that? I've only discussed it with you and the Chancellor."

  "The pace has ears everywhere," Natalie reminded him, carefully disabling the wire with practiced movements. "Which is why we've been practicing speaking in code when in public spaces."

  She'd spent the past weeks intensifying Julian's education in what she called "the art of perception"—teaching him to notice not just obvious threats but the subtle signs that preceded them. How servants' gossip flowed through the pace, which guards reported directly to Augustus, which nobles could be trusted to keep confidences.

  "There," she said, coiling the wire and pocketing it. "Though I suggest we check the saddle on Domino before you mount. And perhaps take a different route to meet the Chancellor than the one originally pnned."

  Julian sighed. "This is exhausting. I can't constantly look over my shoulder, Natalie. I have duties, studies..."

  "I know." She settled into her usual chair beside his desk. "But until Augustus accepts that your rise doesn't threaten his position, these... incidents will continue."

  The prince ran a hand through his dark curls, disheveling them in a way that made him look younger than his twelve years. "He's the heir to the empire. How could anything I do possibly threaten him?"

  Natalie considered how to answer. In the months since Julian had begun actively participating in council meetings, she'd observed a subtle shift in how he was perceived at court. No longer dismissed as the schorly, awkward youngest prince, he was increasingly seen as thoughtful and insightful—qualities the empire valued alongside Augustus's more martial strengths.

  "Your father has been watching you," she said carefully. "The Emperor is starting to value intelligence and strategic thinking alongside his traditional preference for strength. Those qualities have caught his attention."

  Julian looked skeptical. "Father barely speaks to me."

  "He doesn't need to speak to observe. And others have noticed his interest." Natalie leaned forward. "Which brings us to today's lesson."

  "I thought we were working on diplomatic correspondence this afternoon."

  "This is more urgent." Natalie pulled a folded piece of parchment from her pocket and spread it on the desk. It was a rough sketch of the pace's main floor, with various markings in different colored inks.

  "What's this?" Julian asked, studying it curiously.

  "A map of influence," Natalie expined. "The red marks indicate areas where Augustus's supporters are stationed or frequently gather. Blue shows neutral territories. Green represents spaces where you might find allies or at least fair treatment."

  Julian examined the map with growing interest. "The library is green."

  "Master Holloway has always appreciated your respect for his domain," Natalie confirmed. "And notice the East Gallery?"

  "Red," Julian noted. "Because of Lady Hamilton's close friendship with Prince Edmond."

  Natalie nodded approvingly. "Exactly. Understanding these territories is crucial to moving safely through the pace."

  "But they must change constantly," Julian pointed out. "Alliances shift, guards rotate..."

  "Which is why observation is your most valuable skill." Natalie tapped the parchment. "This is merely a starting point, a framework to build upon. The real map exists here." She touched her temple. "And you must update it constantly."

  Julian studied the diagram again, his brow furrowed in concentration. "The governors' council chamber is mostly blue, with some green near the Chancellor's seat."

  "Yes. And what about the Imperial gardens?"

  Julian hesitated. "They're not marked."

  "Because they're contested territory," Natalie expined. "During morning hours, when the Empress takes her walk, they're decisively red. But in te afternoon, when Master Wei conducts his philosophy discussions, they shift toward green."

  Understanding dawned in Julian's eyes. "So timing matters as much as location."

  "Precisely." Natalie smiled, pleased by his quick grasp of the concept. "Pace politics isn't just about who has power, but when and where they can exercise it."

  She rose and moved to the window, checking the position of the sun. "Speaking of timing, you should prepare for your ride. Lord Chancellor Voss is not a man who appreciates tardiness."

  Julian gathered his riding gloves, then paused. "Natalie, how did you learn all this? About observation, influence, reading people's intentions... These aren't things taught in the usual pace curriculum."

  For a moment, Natalie's composure faltered. The question touched too closely on her hidden past—on days spent in her father's bookbinding shop, observing the subtle ways he assessed clients and negotiated prices, how he'd taught her to notice the quality of a person's clothing and manner to determine how much they might pay. And ter, after his death, the desperate weeks when she'd needed to gauge which of his clients might help their family and which might take advantage of their vulnerable situation.

  "I've always been observant," she said carefully. "And the pace is an excellent school for such skills."

  Julian accepted this with a nod, though his eyes held a hint of curiosity that suggested the question wasn't entirely settled. "Will you accompany me to the stables?"

  "Of course, Your Highness."

  As they walked through the pace corridors, Natalie maintained a casual conversation about Julian's upcoming nguage lessons while her eyes constantly scanned their surroundings. She noted which servants paused in their work to watch them pass, which guards straightened to attention and which remained indifferent. Every detail fed into her mental map of the pace's shifting alliances.

  Outside, the autumn air carried a hint of approaching winter. The gardens they crossed were abze with te-season color, the carefully tended beds creating a dazzling dispy for visiting dignitaries. Several courtiers strolled the paths, their conversation falling silent as Julian passed.

  "Notice the Marquis of Bellham," Natalie murmured, seemingly adjusting Julian's jacket. "He's been meeting with Prince Edmond frequently, yet he just bowed more deeply to you than protocol requires."

  Julian's eyes flickered briefly to the elderly nobleman. "Testing which way the wind blows?"

  "Likely," Natalie agreed. "The Marquis controls three votes in the Eastern Assembly. His support would be valuable to any prince seeking influence there."

  Julian processed this information with a thoughtful expression. "Should I acknowledge him?"

  "A slight nod would be appropriate. Neither too eager nor dismissive."

  Julian executed the gesture perfectly, receiving a pleased smile from the Marquis in return. Natalie felt a surge of satisfaction; such subtle exchanges were precisely the sort of political maneuvering she'd been teaching him.

  At the royal stables, they found Lord Chancellor Voss's grandson already waiting, a tall youth of fifteen with his grandfather's schorly demeanor. As Julian greeted him, Natalie quietly circled Domino, Julian's favorite mount, checking the saddle and tack for any signs of tampering.

  "All appears well, Your Highness," she reported softly when she returned to his side.

  "Thank you, Natalie," Julian replied, then addressed young Lord Voss. "My attendant suggests we might take the north path rather than the eastern trail today. The views of the valley are particurly fine this time of year."

  The young lord agreed readily, and Natalie watched with approval as Julian smoothly implemented the change of pns without revealing their true reason for caution. He was learning.

  As the two boys mounted their horses, Lord Voss looked to Natalie. "Will you not be joining us, Miss Foster? I understand you're quite an accomplished rider."

  "Not today, my lord," Natalie replied with a polite smile. "I have matters to attend to here." What she didn't say was that she intended to use their absence to investigate the source of the tripwire, following the trail back to its origin.

  Julian caught her eye, understanding passing between them without words. "Natalie will join us another time," he said smoothly. "She's been instructing me in botanical identification for my natural sciences studies, which would make her an excellent companion on the forest paths."

  The fabrication was seamless, offering both a reasonable expnation for her riding skills and a pretext for future accompaniment. Natalie dipped into a perfect curtsy, hiding her smile. Julian was becoming adept at the careful half-truths that comprised so much of court communication.

  "Enjoy your ride, Your Highness," she said. "I'll attend to those matters we discussed and meet you in the study upon your return."

  As the horses trotted away, Natalie's expression turned serious. The tripwire had been a warning—Augustus was escating his campaign against Julian. What had begun as petty harassment was developing into something more calcuted, more dangerous.

  She turned back toward the pace, her mind already tracing the possible paths of investigation. If Augustus was recruiting allies among the servants to pnt such devices, she needed to identify them quickly. The pace staff operated under their own complex hierarchy, one that Natalie had carefully cultivated connections within over the years.

  First, she would visit Martha in the servants' hall, where gossip flowed as freely as the weak tea served during break times. Then perhaps a conversation with Captain Darius's junior lieutenant, who had a loose tongue after an afternoon of training. Each strand of information would strengthen the protective web she was weaving around Julian.

  For a moment, Natalie paused in the garden, watching the receding figures of the two young riders. Julian sat tall in the saddle, his posture reflecting the confidence he had gained over the past months. No longer the frightened boy hiding from his brothers' taunts, he was growing into a young man with purpose and potential.

  The sight stirred that now-familiar feeling in her chest—a protective fierceness that had long since transcended her original motives for serving him. What had begun as a desperate bid for survival had evolved into something deeper, more meaningful. Julian's well-being, his future, mattered to her beyond any consideration of her own safety.

  With renewed determination, Natalie continued toward the pace. Augustus might have years of experience and the power of his position, but she had her own advantages—invisibility, underestimation, and the network of overlooked servants who saw everything that occurred within these walls.

  The game of pace politics was intensifying, and Natalie was determined that Julian would not merely survive it, but thrive. She would make certain of it, whatever the cost to herself.