Chapter 123: Ryse

Ryse’s brain processed several things at once:

One: That was a very nice horse. Expensive. Well-bred. The kind nobles spent fortunes on.

Two: It was also familiar. He’d seen that horse before. Recently. Being led by a stable boy while its owner…

Three: That was Eris’s horse.

The realization hit like ice water.

Soren had taken Eris. Specifically requested her horse be brought. Had ridden off three days ago with her unconscious in his arms, heading gods-knew-where for reasons he hadn’t explained.

And now her horse was here.

Without her.

Without either of them.

Moving at supernatural speed with… were those ice nymphs flying next to it?… heading directly toward him like it knew exactly who it was looking for.

Ryse’s mind immediately jumped to worst-case scenarios:

Ambush. Soren overwhelmed. Eris dead or dying. The horse sent back as a message or escaped on its own. His Emperor somewhere in the wilderness fighting for his life while Ryse stood here managing tent assignments.

His hand tightened on his sword hilt.

He should dodge. Should get out of the way. Should definitely not stand directly in the path of a magically-enhanced horse that was showing no signs of slowing down.

He didn’t move.

Partly because his body had apparently decided to betray him by freezing (ironic for an ice-wielder). Partly because something in the horse’s eyes… intelligent, purposeful, knowing… suggested this wasn’t an attack.

The mare stopped.

Perfectly. Precisely. Close enough that Ryse could’ve reached out and touched her nose if he’d wanted to.

The ice nymphs became visible now that they weren’t just glowing blurs. Tiny creatures made of frost and light, hovering around the horse’s head like a crown. One of them chittered in that musical language that predated human speech.

Ryse didn’t speak ancient ice-tongue.

But he heard the words clearly in his mind anyway: “This one. Red hair. Scarred face. Commander Ryse.”

What in the frozen hells…

“Commander!”

Multiple voices shouting at once. Running footsteps converging. Within seconds he was surrounded… knights with weapons drawn, junior officers looking concerned, and yes, there was Jorel pushing through the crowd, and behind him that young maid who’d stowed away, Mira, her face pale with worry.

“Are you hurt, sir?”

“What happened?”

“Should we restrain the horse?”

“Sir, that’s Lady Eris’s mare… ”

Ryse held up one hand for silence.

Got it immediately. One advantage of being Soren’s right hand: people listened when you gestured.

His eyes had caught something.

Attached to the mare’s saddle, secured with bindings that glowed faint blue and looked distinctly magical: a small bundle. And on top of it, what appeared to be…

Ice.

Not just ice. Shaped ice. Carved ice. A tablet made from frost that shouldn’t exist in morning sunlight but did anyway because it had been made by someone powerful enough to tell physics to shut up and obey.

Ryse knew exactly who that someone was.

Relief flooded through him so fast his knees almost gave out.

The Emperor’s message system.

Soren did this. Created ice-messages that couldn’t melt, couldn’t be forged, couldn’t be intercepted or altered. Secure communication that only worked because his ice magic was divine-level bullshit that regular rules didn’t apply to.

Which meant this wasn’t a disaster.

This was a message.

Ryse reached for the tablet with hands that were definitely steady and not shaking with the adrenaline crash of thinking his Emperor was dead for approximately thirty seconds.

The frost-bindings recognized him… or recognized that he was authorized, hard to tell with Soren’s magic… and released without resistance.

The tablet was cold. Obviously. But also perfectly smooth, perfectly clear, with text carved into its surface in Soren’s distinctive handwriting. Sharp angles. Efficient lettering. No flourishes because the Emperor didn’t believe in wasting time on aesthetic choices when conveying information.

Ryse read:

Ryse …

Eris is safe. Recovering in the River of Aenithra. We will remain here three days while she heals. Continue to the Frozen Court as planned.

Send the mare back immediately with:

– Two sets of clothes (one for Emperor, one for Empress)

– Food supplies for three days

– Medical kit (precautionary)

Do not attempt to find us. The river will not permit it.

… S

The River of Aenithra.

The mythical sacred place that supposedly vanished centuries ago when the goddess did. The place that scholars argued about and priests claimed didn’t exist anymore and legends said could only be found by those the Frostmother herself deemed worthy.

Soren had found it.

Of course he had.

Because apparently when Soren decided to take a detour, he didn’t go to a regular healing spring or a temple or anywhere normal. He went straight to legendary divine locations that weren’t supposed to be accessible anymore.

And Eris was there with him. Safe. Recovering.

Recovering from what, Ryse’s brain demanded, but that was a question for later when he could interrogate his Emperor properly about what in the frozen hells had happened in the three days since he’d ridden off.

Right now, he had orders.

Clear, direct orders.

Ryse looked up from the tablet, eyes scanning the crowd that had gathered. Found the faces he needed.

“You three.” He pointed at junior knights who were close to Soren’s size. “Gather clothing suitable for the Emperor. Clean, travel-appropriate, nothing fancy. Move.”

They scattered immediately.

“Jorel.” The fighter stepped forward. “Raid the supply wagons. Preserved foods, dried meat, fruit that won’t spoil, bread, cheese. Enough for three days for two people. Also grab waterskins… filled. Go.”

“Yes, sir.” Jorel was already turning, heading for the supply area at a run.

“Theryn.” The young lieutenant straightened. “Medical supplies from the healers’ tent. Standard field kit… bandages, salves, pain tonics, fever reducers. And add extra cold-weather supplies even though that makes no sense for a fire-wielder.”

“Sir?” Theryn looked confused but nodded anyway.

“Just do it.”

“Yes, sir.”

People scattered.

Military efficiency kicking in beautifully. Within minutes they’d have everything assembled, packed properly, secured to the mare’s saddle in a way that wouldn’t shift during travel.

Ryse looked at the ice nymphs still hovering near the horse’s head.

“You’re taking her back?” he asked, feeling slightly ridiculous talking to magical creatures but deciding he’d had weirder days.

The nymphs chimed agreement. He felt rather than heard: Yes. We guide. We protect. She returns safely.

“Good.” Ryse nodded. “Tell the Emperor… ” He paused. What did you tell your Emperor when he’d run off with a woman to a mythical location? “Tell him we’ll be at the Frozen Court in five days. As ordered.”

More chiming. Message received. Will relay.

Movement at the edge of his vision.

Mira.

She’d been standing back, clearly wanting to ask something but too nervous to interrupt. Now she stepped forward hesitantly, hands clasped in front of her, looking like she might bolt if anyone spoke too loudly.

“Commander?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Is… is Lady Eris… is she…?”

The girl couldn’t finish the sentence.

Too worried. Too afraid of the answer.

Ryse’s expression softened despite his usual policy of maintaining professional distance. He recognized genuine concern when he saw it, recognized that this young woman actually cared about Eris rather than just serving her out of obligation.

He smiled.

It was a rare expression on his scarred face. Most people never saw Ryse smile. He’d been told it made him look less terrifying, which he personally doubted, but apparently it was effective because Mira’s tension visibly eased.

“She’s fine,” he said, keeping his tone gentle. “The Emperor says so himself. They encountered some complications but nothing they couldn’t handle. She’s recovering in a safe location.”

“Recovering…” Mira’s brow furrowed with worry.

“She’ll be alright,” Ryse assured her. “His Majesty wouldn’t leave her if there was serious danger. They’ll rejoin us at the border in a few days.”

“A few days?” Hope crept into her voice.

“Three, according to this.” He held up the ice tablet. “Maybe four depending on travel. But yes. Soon.”

The relief that washed over Mira’s face was almost painful to witness. Her eyes actually welled up with tears she blinked back rapidly, trying to maintain composure.

“Thank you, Commander.” She bowed. Too deeply. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Go help pack the supplies,” Ryse suggested. “Make sure they include items Lady Eris might need. You know her preferences better than most.”

Mira nodded eagerly and hurried off toward where Jorel was organizing food supplies.

Ryse stood there for another moment, watching the organized chaos of his people following orders, watching the mare stand patiently while ice nymphs floated around her like bizarre guardian angels.

The River of Aenithra.

Soren had found it. Had taken Eris there. Was staying for three days.

Alone.

Together.

In a legendary sacred location.

Ryse had known his Emperor for fifteen years. Had served under him, fought beside him, seen him in battle and politics and every situation between. Had watched Soren remain cold and controlled and emotionally distant from everyone except a trusted few.

Had never… never… seen him look at anyone the way he’d looked at Eris Igniva when he’d proposed marriage in that ballroom.

Like she was winter personified.

Like she was something he’d been waiting for without knowing he was waiting.

Like she mattered more than empires.

Ryse shook his head slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

“You’re in deep, Your Majesty,” he murmured to no one in particular. “And I don’t think you even care.”

The mare snorted.

Almost like she was agreeing.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep