The audience chamber, vast and imposing, buzzed with urgent murmurs. Lords and commanders alike shifted on polished floors, their eyes fixed on the throne atop the sweeping staircase. At its apex, the king sat, a figure of authority weighed down by visible grief. Beside him, Queen Fleur's quiet sobs pierced the room, her despair raw and contagious.
"Your Majesty, my son!" she cried, her voice cracking, the desperation of a mother echoing through the high hall. The king inclined his head solemnly, acknowledging her pain while keeping his own grief restrained beneath the mask of royalty.
"Commander Zand, are you certain of this?" the king asked, his voice carrying authority that silenced the room. All attention snapped to the kneeling commander, whose posture radiated resolve.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Zand said, voice steady, though urgency crept into the edges. "I have scoured every corner of the palace. There is no sign of the prince—or the general."
"And their forces?" the king pressed, frowning. "Any movement, any sign?"
"None, Your Majesty," Zand admitted. "But it is clear this is part of a larger scheme. We must act without delay."
A ripple of murmurs rose, then cut sharply as a new voice intervened. "Objection, Your Majesty!"
All heads turned as a figure in resplendent blue strode confidently forward. Dark hair framed sharp features, and deep, calculating eyes scanned the room. Duke Farris had arrived.
The king's gaze followed him, equal parts wary and intrigued. "Duke Farris," he said, his tone measured. "Speak."
"It is premature to pass judgment," Farris declared, his voice ringing with calm authority. "Emotions must not cloud our decisions. There may still be critical details that escape us. A full investigation is required."
A collective hush fell. Here was a man who had endured the general's cruelty, yet he advocated patience. The king's brows lifted in measured surprise.
"Are you not influenced by personal vendettas?" he asked, voice sharp. "How can you counsel restraint toward one who has caused you such suffering?"
Farris met the king's gaze unwaveringly. "Your Majesty," he said, tone firm yet sincere, "I do not speak out of forgiveness, but out of justice. We owe it to our people to explore every lead before condemning anyone."
A tense silence followed, broken by the sudden arrival of a trembling knight, breath ragged from haste. "Your Majesty!" he gasped. "Your presence is urgently requested."
The chamber held its collective breath, the sense of impending revelation pressing down like a storm yet to break.
The king's brow furrowed, anticipation etched into every line of his face as he rose from the throne. Before he could move, Duke Farris stepped forward, earnest concern written across his features.
"Your Majesty," he said, his voice steady yet pressing, "may I accompany you? I fear there is more here than we yet understand."
The king studied him for a moment, weighing the request, then inclined his head. "Very well," he said, granting permission. With that simple gesture, a chain of events was set in motion that would shape the fate of the kingdom.
The knight, trembling slightly yet maintaining formal composure, guided the royal couple through the palace corridors alive with activity. Maids scurried past, guards snapped to attention, all aware that something urgent had arrived at their door.
"Make way for His Majesty the King and Her Highness the Queen!" the knight announced. The echo of his voice reverberated through the hall, and the crowd parted immediately, heads bowed in silent deference.
As the doors opened, the king and queen entered, commanding the room with their presence. Farris, however, lingered outside, eyes sharp and calculating, scanning the scene for any detail others might miss. He approached the guard stationed at the entrance, his manner direct, no room for hesitation.
"Greetings, Duke," the guard stammered, betraying his nervousness.
"Where is the princess?" Farris asked, his voice low but firm, carrying authority that left no room for evasion.
At the mention of Princess Noori, the guard visibly stiffened, as if her name alone could summon fear. He swallowed hard, voice shaky. "The princess… she brought the prince back… and then she left. I do not know where she went."
Farris nodded slowly, unreadable, his mind already racing with possibilities. Without another word, he turned, his thoughts consumed by the mystery and the odd occurence of events.
Amid the ruins, Noori crouched, her silhouette framed against smoke and ash. Her blood-red hair flickered like fire in the wind, her ivory skin marked by scars—remnants of battles survived. She pressed her hand into the ashes, frown deepening as thoughts weighed heavily on her.
The crunch of boots made her tense. A familiar voice, sharp with both admiration and reproach, cut through the desolation.
"You made quite an entrance," Duke Farris Griffith said, his tone a mixture of awe and restrained anger. The man second to only the king had come to pay her a visit.
Noori's lip curled. She didn't turn to face him, her teeth grinding against each other as she resisted the impulse. "Commander Farris Griffith of Silver Fox Battalion. I'm glad my little trick warranted a personal visit," she said, her voice low and hoarse, still carrying the command of one who led armies.
Farris clenched his fists, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. "Why did you do it?" he demanded this time in a more informal manner as if he needed to know the real reason.
Noori rose, brushing ash from her hands, eyes fixed beyond his shoulder. She never met his gaze. "Worried?" she countered, voice a subtle challenge. Slowly, she approached him, patting his shoulder with a patronizing air. "You can't reveal your tactics to the enemy. Have you forgotten the laws of war?" A short, dry chuckle escaped her.
Her words lingered like smoke, a reminder of shared history and sacrifices. With a final glance, she vanished into the ruins. Her command echoed behind her: "Check on that body." Noori said lazily.
Farris remained, staring at the fading figure, His teeth clenched in what seemed like pain.