Jeremy

Beaver had a list of names by the next morning.

By noon, he had arrived at the manor and had made his way past the exterior walls to the inner study. 

Steven was looking through letters.

Beaver did not knock. 

Quietly, he shut the door behind him.

Eyes narrowing, Steven looked up. "Report."

Beaver remarked, "Some cousins of yours, they have communicated with Baron Atkins."

With the light catching the jagged edge of his face, Steven leaned back. "The rat was actually inside the house."

Beaver set down the name scroll on the desk. 

Steven took the list and nodded. "You have done well. Keep monitoring them to find the mastermind." 

Beaver turned, heading out. "I will not stop digging."

As Steven descended to the training yard to instruct Clinton, a loud crash reverberated from the distant side of the manor. 

Everyone turned and looked towards the source of the sound. 

A moment afterward, a young man, who could not have been older than eighteen, ran across the courtyard while carrying a sack, with two guards chasing after him.

"I was not trying to steal it, believe me. I was giving it a test!" the man exclaimed.

Steven blinked. "Are we now dealing with thieves?"

He came hurtling toward the prince, skidded to a stop, and threw the sack at Steven. "Hold this for me and give me a second!"

The young man rushed behind Steven as if he were a human barrier. 

The two guards almost collided with the prince.

"Your Highness!" they greeted, exhausted. "A ledger was stolen from the archives by that tiny rat!"

"I was making it better!" the man yelled behind Steven. "Who keeps track of grain using vertical tables? It is ineffective!"

Slowly, Steven turned to examine the sack. "You stole to redesign accounting charts?"

He spoke with pride, "Additionally, some military reports need to be corrected. It was blasphemous to describe a skirmish as a minor misunderstanding involving swords."

"Who are you?" Steven inquired.

He smiled and made a dramatic bow as he stepped outside. "The name is Jeremy. A mastermind, some call me a man of nature. Occasionally a fugitive."

An eyebrow went up for Steven. "What do you do specifically?"

Jeremy heaved a breath. "I solve problems as a tactician. At a funeral, I once prevailed in a tax dispute with a priest."

With interest, Steven inquired. "And why did you come to my manor?"

Jeremy said, scratching his head, "I heard that Headow was changing. I came to render my services to your cause."

Steven glanced over at Clinton, who was trying vainly to contain his laughter. 

He whispered, "I am not sure if I should kick you out or hire you."

"I recommend the latter," Jeremy said, advancing with mischievous eyes.

After Steven untied the sack, he took out a few jumbled scrolls, each containing diagrams, maps with annotations, grain statistics, and fictitious troop movements throughout Headow. 

One even featured a label on a sketch of Steven. "Have you been watching me?"

Jeremy clarified. "Your patrol routes were modified, a speedier supply chain model was introduced, and your optimal recruitment zones were determined."

Steven gave Clinton the contents of the sack. "What are your thoughts?"

Clinton turned to the seventh page. 

His eyebrows shot upward. "It is really quite good."

Jeremy smiled with satisfaction. 

Steven sighed and asked. "Would you like to work for me?

"You mean work with you," Jeremy remarked. "As your chief strategist."

Steven had a sly smile. "Get him somewhere to sleep, Clinton."

Jeremy pumped his fist in the air. "Success!"

Steven looked at the guards as the new recruit trailed Clinton inside. "Please notify me the next time someone odd shows up."

One of the guards bowed. "Your Highness, we will be on the lookout."

With his arms folded, Steven reclined in his chair and gazed intently at the inquisitive fellow in front of him. 

Not being asked, Jeremy had just completed rearranging the document room once more. 

The time has come to discover whether all the enthusiasm was accompanied by any depth.

"Please explain my current predicament," Steven stated calmly. 

Jeremy grinned as though he had been anticipating this particular task. 

He exclaimed, rubbing his hands together, "At last."

He paced around the room. 

"The once-proud homeland of your mother, Headow, was collapsing due to corruption and debt. 

He continued, "Smeared with a bad reputation and a tiny group of obedient men to support you, Prince Steven, you managed to stop it from sinking just in time."

Steven furrowed his brow. "Go on."

Jeremy made a dramatic gesture toward the window. "You saved your cousin and brought your family back to life. The majority of the region is hoping you succeed."

He put his head forward. "And some are beginning to pull strings already."

Steven became more attentive. 

Jeremy continued his speech without hesitation, "Baron Atkins is the storm that is coming, and you would not be able to go forward without dealing with him."

Steven nodded gradually. "Is it inevitable?"

Jeremy was dazzling. "Atkins cannot be touched just yet, too well-established."

He started to listen with his fingers. "Your delay tactics have already caused him to slow down, and everyone is whispering. Additionally, you have begun to establish your own inner circle—Beaver spotting rats, Rosana recruiting."

Steven tapped the tips of his fingers. "Continue."

Jeremy laughed. "You ought to go after Pinel next."

Steven inclined forward. "What advice would you give?"

Without a pause, Jeremy said. "Make Baron Atkins doubt his loyalty by using his conceit as a trap."

He smiled. "Once this is accomplished, you will have reduced the number of your enemies."

For a long time, Steven remained silent.

He stared at the young man.

The way he spoke was devoid of any hint of doubt or conceit, only clear, concise reasoning. 

As if it were a blade of words.

You worked out all of this in a day?" he inquired.

Jeremy gave a shrug. "In a day, I will have his shoe size."

Steven laughed quietly. "You can be dangerous."

Jeremy blinked. "Wait, is that it?"

"Yes," Steven said. 

And Jeremy smiled, "I ought to have worn my formal cape."

Steven made his way over to the door. "We will be moving on Pinel soon. I need your entire strategy by morning."

Jeremy asked. "Will I be given a nice room?"

Steven smirked. "You will receive half the size of this room."

Jeremy grinned. "All right."

A drab morning fog hovered over Headow, tucked away between the alleys like whispered secrets. 

Steven sat at the far end of a large table in the recently refurbished chamber, arms folded. 

Jeremy sipped from a hot cup of ginger tea next to him, his eyes sparkling with eagerness.

He gently clinked the cup to set it down. "Lord Pinel is audacious yet reckless, and he is the right-hand man of Baron Atkins. Remove this piece from the board."

Rosina leaned in front. "How do we start?"

Faintly, Jeremy grinned. "We will attack with the knights."

Beaver furrowed his brow. "Like the game of chess?"

Jeremy stated. "Information will be leaked by Beaver through his contacts. Spread rumors about a famous strategist who works for Steven and is constantly one step ahead. Pinel needs to redirect his resources into finding this new enemy."

Steven gradually nodded. "A specter in the mist."

And Jeremy went on, "From your previous scouting mission, I need you to invite a few craftsmen. Rosina, I want you to publicly reject two of them, make a scene."

Rosina blinked. "Why?"

Jeremy said. "Because one of them is spying for Lord Pinel."

Rosina opened her mouth in astonishment. "How are you aware of this?"

Jeremy said calmly. "Enrage him so much that he rushes to Pinel. By nightfall, he will be ideal for confirming my existence."

Twyford rubbed his beard. "And what should I do?"

Jeremy looked at him. "You must disguise yourself, go to the tavern, and become intoxicated. The informants of Baron Atkins will be there, reveal some shocking truth."

Twyford frowned. "What is it?"

Jeremy gave a faint smile. "That Lord Pinel has been secretly negotiating with rival barons."

Steven furrowed his brows. "Do you intend to frame him?"

Jeremy gave a head-shaking gesture. "My intention is to imply that he is capable of treachery. The seed will sprout on its own."

Beaver crossed his arms. "You want to portray him as overly ambitious."

"Exactly," Jeremy replied. "The Baron must view Pinel as a threat rather than a faithful servant."

Rosina looked at each of them in turn. "What do we do when Pinel responds?"

On the table, Jeremy tapped. "He would not notice on time as he chased the shadows of the new strategist. By the time he realizes, it will be too late to salvage the situation."

Steven gave a quiet chuckle. "You are ruthless."

"I like the word 'efficient,'" Jeremy grinned wryly.

By the end of the meeting, each person had a specific, multi-layered, and purposeful function.

The war has begun.

A battle of the shadows.