King Jorah and his troop started their journey towards Ingora after signing the parchment of victory. They had waited for the king of Nethilor to continue the war after the death of their Commander. However, to their surprise, King Rhysand had decided to surrender. He did not have men to fight for him, and if the war continued, it would not be long before he too ended up just like Commander Blair, cold and lifeless.
Rhysand had sent a treaty of peace, accepting his defeat, and the two kingdoms had signed the pact. The king of Nethilor had never felt this humiliated before as he sat facing his enemy, whose gaze was filled with ridicule. Not only Jorah, but even his army also looked at him with mockery. All Rhysand could do was swallow his anger and finish the task he had at hand.
Once the two kings signed the parchment, Rhysand left the battleground, his army following him silently. Though he had lost the war, he had not lost his will to kill Jorah. 'I will return to get my revenge. Wait for it Jorah.' He clenched his jaw as he took one last glance at the man who had destroyed a lot of lives, including his before he left for his kingdom.
The army of Ingora was beyond ecstatic by the turn of events. But it did not surprise them, for Nethilor had never won any battle against them. The only kingdom that had ever won a war against them was Oryn, and they were still undefeatable. Though Jorah had the desire to win against Oryn too, he controlled his urge, for he knew that he was incapable of doing so. Even his strong and capable commander could not help him achieve this victory. The army of Oryn was more trained and skilled than his army, and he had to come up with a well-devised plan to defeat them.
"Milord," Finley looked around him, carefully observing his surroundings. They had departed towards Ingora the moment they had signed the treaty in the forenoon, and now, it was already dusk. If they continued the journey, they would reach Ingora in the early hours of dawn.
"Should we halt for the night? We will only reach Ingora in the morning." He suggested, taking a look at the exhausted soldiers. Though nobody had complained about it, he could see their tired faces. They needed rest, and Finley knew it, for he too wanted to rest for some time. However, Jorah shook his head, rejecting the man's advice at once.
"No Commander. We will not rest until we reach Ingora." He stated, his voice stern and fixed. Finley could not object, and he bowed slightly, accepting the man's orders. He kicked his horse softly, trying to catch up with the king.
Finley understood why his King was in a hurry. He wanted to get back to his daughter, the Princess soon. King Jorah loved his family the most, and among them, his daughter ruled his heart. Never had he seen his King losing his temper with her. And the Princess too was a mature girl, who never did anything that could make the King lose his temper.
"Say, Commander, how happy Priscilla will be on seeing me?" Jorah asked suddenly, a small smile making its way on his lips.
"Milord, the Princess would be delighted on seeing you and more so on hearing about your victory," Finley added with a smile. Just like his King, he too was fond of the Princess. He had seen her grow up to the fine young lady she was, and she was nothing less than a daughter to him.
"Yes, my daughter would be jubilant to see me. So, I cannot delay my journey any longer. I need to reach Ingora soon." Jorah stated, his smile not leaving his face.
"Yes, Milord. I will command the men to pick up the pace." Finley replied, and Jorah nodded in satisfaction.
"She would be glad to see you too. She adores you." Jorah spoke after some time. He recalled how his daughter had begged him to allow her to learn sword fighting and other forms of fighting. But Jorah was adamant was ever, denying this one request on hers. He did not want the girl to learn fighting, she was not meant for it. She was meant to be a queen, and the queens were in charge of internal matters, not to fight or rule the kingdom.
Priscilla had then approached Finley to teach her. But Jorah had forbidden the man from doing so, due to which his daughter had been furious at them for a week. He chuckled lightly, recalling his daughter's adorable face.
"Say, Finley, why didn't you marry anyone?" Jorah queried, staring at the deserted path that led to Ingora. "If you had a son, I would have married my daughter off to him."
"Milord," Finley did not know how to reply. His King had questioned him about this many a time. But every time, he did not know what to answer him. He had dedicated his life to the kingdom and its welfare. It had never occurred to him to marry someone and start a family. He had spent his years serving Ingora, and he wished to do the same until his last breath.
"If you had a son, he would have been a fine Commander like you and could have taken over your position once my son took over the throne," Jorah stated, glancing at the man on the horse beside him.
"Milord, Prince Arthur is formidable himself. He does not need anyone to assist him." Finley answered, not knowing what else to say.
"Are you saying that I am not formidable enough that you are with me?" Jorah rose his eyebrows, amusement dancing in his eyes.
However, Finley missed it completely. He panicked hearing the King's solemn voice, and he shook his head frantically. "No, no, Milord. That was not what I meant. I-I-I apologize for my impudent behavior. I-I..."
Jorah burst out laughing seeing the man's flustered response. Finley was one of the few people he trusted and was close to. So, he knew the man better than anyone else, and he knew what his earlier words had meant. He was praising his sixteen year old son, though Arthur was yet to learn a lot of skills. "Finley, I love your responses whenever I tease you. You are as amusing as ever."
Finley gave a helpless smile, hearing the man's words. He chose not to comment about it, for this was the first time when the King had pulled his leg.
"Milord, what are we going to do about Ismene?" Finley queried when he recalled how horrendous their situation was.
Jorah titled his head, thinking about it for a while. "We will wait for all the people to die, and then we will occupy their kingdom." His ruthless answer did not surprise Jorah, for that was what he too had in mind. "Ismene is ours, and it will soon become Ingora."