The journey back was less chaotic. People still seemed to wander aimlessly, dirty and bloodied, crossing the path of the horses as if the fear of death was no longer haunting their hearts. But the cries for help and pleas continued. The King decided that the castle healers would be released to aid the population. There were only eight of them, but they were the best. Dozens of amateur healers were scattered throughout the city, but thousands of people appeared injured. With his mind filled with doubts and no answers, Rufus entered the gates of the fortress. After sending Violin to his stable, which was as luxurious as the King's own quarters, Rufus rid himself of all that black diamond and obsidian, then made his way to the throne room.
When he opened the enormous door of black oak adorned with the image of an oak tree itself and entered the room where he received his subjects, Rufus was surprised by the number of people waiting for him. "This is not a good sign," he thought. In a glance, he noticed that Olympia and Cleopatra were also present, standing near the throne—a massive armchair of blood-red leather, round in the backrest and square in the armrest, both outlined in black gold, with a shade almost resembling copper. The chair was elevated three steps above the floor. The room was a kind of oval hall, with a vaulted ceiling painted with figures of angels and men from ancient myths. A pillar extended from the center of each of the side walls of the hall, forming a ramp that reached the ceiling before disappearing, creating an arch that divided the room in half. A red carpet with golden stripes started from the throne, descended the steps, and continued all the way to the front door of the room, whose corridors led to the external front courtyard where the population was routinely received. Each side wall had a door, as did the lower wall from which the King had arrived, and the corridors led to the interior courtyard behind the castle, where the Royal Quarters were located.
"Your Grace, King Rufus, is present," shouted the soldier guarding the door as soon as the monarch entered.
All the people turned towards the King and started shouting at the same time, demanding explanations. The noise was so loud and chaotic that no sentence could be understood. This irritated the King. Before anyone could take control of the situation, Rufus made his way through the crowd and stood in front of the throne, then turned to face the sea of people. The King had to remain silent for no more than a breath, and in an instant, the entire room fell silent. Not a word was spoken until the Queen herself took the royal crown from the leather cushion that guarded it beside the throne and placed it on her husband's head. The golden crown shimmered as the beams of light from the tall stained glass windows at the top of the lower wall bathed it. The monarch cleared his throat and spoke with his most powerful voice:
"Worry not, my friends. Personally, I went to the port and stood in front of that storm. It was all just an accident, I assure you. We have the full force of the royal power examining every piece of that harbor to definitively clarify this tragedy that has befallen us all today. The royal healers have already been made available to the entire population. Soon enough, we will be back to the peace that I promised you when I ascended to this throne. Count on me."
But that audience was not easily won over. The castle was kilometers away from the port, separated by the entire citadel. The force with which the curtains danced when the explosion reached the Dining Hall was impressive. Rufus couldn't imagine what had happened to the various houses near the port. Just the little he saw on a single street reflected more disaster than he had witnessed in his entire life. Burned men, mutilated women, children dead along the way. The lie he had told to that elite who awaited answers did not align with the reality of what was truly happening. All hope for an answer rested in Illia's hands.
The voices of the subjects arose as whispers but quickly grew as loud as when the King entered the room. It was only when Rufus sat on the throne that the chaos returned. The King pressed his temples and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to recover from everything he was going through. That day was a nightmare. It was only when he felt Olympia's soft, cold skin that he raised his head again. His wife and daughter were the only ones on the highest step of the room, where the throne was located.
"We need to talk!" The Queen made it clear. Her gaze seemed frantic and anxious. A hint of doubt appeared on the King's face, but Rufus was never known for having a slow mind. He nodded.
"Soldier," he said to the guard protecting the lower steps of the throne, "remove everyone from here immediately." The response from the crowd was an array of murmurs. No one dared to disrespect the King, but they didn't hesitate to express their anger at not being individually attended to. The elite of the citadel consisted of close friends of the King, from Martin, the largest wine producer in Ard Salem, to the old shepherd, a hunched little man whose name always escaped Rufus' mind. Nonetheless, those three dozen people comprised the economic and social axis that made both the peace and control of Ard Taj possible. "Once the citizens had their needs met, the revolts disappeared, and a King could rule in peace," his father used to say. Those people were indispensable, which is why they deserved a prominent place in society and sometimes even a seat at the King's table. Rufus knew that dismissing them would not be a good thing, but he was already too tired. It felt like he had never exerted so much effort before, and the situation couldn't get any worse.
"Darling," said the queen, "I'm sorry to say, but I have bad news."