The horn signaled the end of the hunt.
Lucian, Seraphina, and Theobald rode back toward the tents, each on horseback, their pace unhurried.
Other hunters had already returned, carrying their trophies and chatting animatedly about the day's chase. Excitement buzzed through the camp like wildfire.
Only the three of them came back empty-handed, their clothes torn, stained with dirt and scratches. Carl rushed forward to take Lucian's reins, his eyes sweeping over the prince in concern.
"Your Highness, are you all right?"
Several nobles nearby took notice and voiced their concern.
"What happened, Your Highness?"
"You look as if you've just survived a battle, Your Highness."
King Felix, who had been standing not far away, stepped closer. His brows furrowed, his voice low and sharp.
"What's the meaning of this, Lucian?"
Behind Lucian, Seraphina instinctively gripped the edge of her sleeve. Her nerves tensed, though her expression remained composed.
