King Liam rode past them his tall figure casting a foreboding shadow upon the distressed faces of the villagers. Their princess was beloved among the people with a kind soul but the same could not be said for King Liam.
Whispers of his black heart and evil deeds had spread like wildfire, fueling the growing resentment that had seeped into every corner of the once vibrant city. They feared that he was going to kill her the minute she stepped her foot off their lands.
The townsfolk stood, rooted to the spot, their eyes filled with fear and disdain as they watched the procession unfold. The dazzling display of richly embroidered banners, followed by the clinking of metallic armour, caused a shiver to run down their spines. They did not welcome this army with open arms but rather were forced to bear witness to their presence.
King Liam rode forward, his regal demeanour betraying no hint of the growing unrest around him. His cold eyes focused ahead.
The Rosemane Palace gate loomed ahead, its towering walls adorned with intricate carvings of roses, a symbol of the kingdom's prosperity and beauty. Silk curtains, dyed in every shade of pink, cascaded down from the gate's archway and blew gently with the breeze. Each curtain was meticulously crafted, adorned with delicate roses stitched with golden threads, creating a harmonious fusion of colour and texture.
King Liam's army, a formidable force infamous throughout the kingdom, had gone ahead of him and now stood on either side of the path leading to the gate, their swords glinting in the sunlight.
As King Liam approached, the sound of trumpets filled the air, announcing his arrival. The guards, their reluctance evident, pushed open the ornate gates. It slowly creaked open, revealing the grandeur that lay beyond.
The courtyard was filled with a vibrant array of flowers, their sweet fragrance wafting through the air. It had been transformed into an enchanting garden of roses and ribbons.
The ribbons were flowing like playful streams of satin, intermixed with the roses, fluttering in the gentle breeze. The air was awash with the lingering sweet scent of roses that could linger in one's nostrils for a week after they had left.
The greeting party, dressed in their finest attire, stood awaiting King Liam's arrival. At the centre of the gathering stood the Lord of Rosemane, a tall and regal figure, his silver hair cascading down his shoulders. He wore a robe of deep crimson, adorned with golden embroidery, a symbol of his authority and power. His piercing brown eyes met King Liam's, a mixture of disdain and resentment shining within them.
King Liam dismounted his horse, his presence commanding the attention of all those present. He helped his mother off her horse and side by side they strode forward. His steps were steady and purposeful, his cape billowing behind him. The Lord of Rosemane approached, trying to conceal his true emotions.
"Welcome, King Liam," the Lord of Rosemane spoke, his voice dull with no pleasantness in it. "We are honoured to have you grace our palace with your presence," he spoke through gritted teeth. King Liam didn't respond.
It was Conley who commanded, "Kneel."
The Lord of Rosemane caught a glimpse of his people staring at him with a mixture of fear and dismay in their eyes. Slowly, and reluctantly, he sank to his knees, his body protesting against the submission, but his resolve unyielding.
His loyal subjects, emulating their Lord's gesture, dropped to their knees in a wave of unity. The weight of their collective surrender hung in the air, the silence roaring in their ears.
As the Lord of Rosemane knelt, his head bowed, he felt the weight of his responsibilities settle upon his shoulders like a heavy cloak. He couldn't wait for this man to die from the planned attack on his way back to Lowoak.
Sienna stood atop the tower watching from afar her father submit. She clenched her fist in anger her heart burning with rage. Her father had told her to stay up in the tower but watching her father who is the king of Rosemane being reduced to this she couldn't bare it. She pulled up the hood of her cloak and walked out the door.
King Liam's keen senses felt someone watching him so he raised his head searchingly but the intense sight was gone.
He raised his hand and a messenger hawk that had been hovering above the city descended from the sky.
The hawk's wings raised dust as it slowly landed, causing the surrounding people to squint in the gritty breeze. The bird was majestic and imposing, its feathers sleek and black as coal. It perched on the King's arm, eyeing him coldly with a piercing gaze.
King Liam reached into his leather wrist guard and took out a small rolled piece of paper before slotting it into the pouch on the hawk's leg. The entire time the bird remained still and unyielding.
He tickled beneath its beak and the hawk rubbed itself on his finger returning his affection but its gaze remained cold. This action shocked everyone who dared peeked when they had their heads lowered.
King Liam sent the messenger hawk away and it soared to the skies. On the roof of the church, a young man clad in green saw the messenger hawk coming and smiled evilly. He was itching to find someone to mess with and the King had just given him that.
The messenger hawk landed on the roof near him despite the young man raising his arm.
"Wow, you still don't like me after all we have been through. Storm, you are so cruel," he said and the hawk looked away as though not even interested in looking at him.
"Sheesh, fine. Don't come to me when his majesty replaces you with a much more prettier and sweet bird," he said while he unfurled the message but as though Storm had understood what he said it flapped its wings aggressively and pulled his hair a few times before he fell off the roof and into a cart of straw beside the church. He looked up at the hawk and saw it was already flying away with an attitude.
"Each and every time," he said wondering how many more pecks it would take before he lost all his hair.
He checked the message and it said, "Check the tower."
He hopped off the straw cart and glanced up to the tower with a glint of mischief in his eyes.