The king lounged on a plush velvet sofa, his feet propped up on a gilded footstool. The rich crimson fabric of the sofa was a perfect match for the deep red of the wine in his goblet. He swirled the liquid around, watching the way the light caught the crystals of the glass, creating tiny rainbows that shimmered and danced in the firelight. His hair was dark, and his eyes a deep, stormy gray, like the sea on a cloudy day. He was handsome and unassuming, and yet there was something about him that made one sit up and take notice. The room was warm and was a chill in the air that no amount of fire could warm. Suddenly, a woman appeared, as if from thin air. She stood silently, her eyes fixed on the king. He stared at her, his heart racing. He tried to speak, but no words came out. He reached out to touch her, but his hand passed through her as if she were made of mist. "Who are you?" he asked. "Why are you here?" The woman simply smiled sadly, and the king felt his heart skip a beat. Before he could say anything else, she faded away, as if she had never been there at all. The king sat alone in his bedchamber, the only sound the crackling of the fire in the hearth. He took another sip of his wine and rubbed his eyebrows. These visions were becoming too troublesome indeed.
The heavy wooden door to the king's bedchamber creaked open, and Hadrien stepped into the room. He was a tall, lean and muscular man, his long blonde hair tied in a ponytail and vibrant green eyes. He was dressed in a simple black shirt and sleek trousers, and his movements were quiet and efficient. He bowed his head to the king. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice low and respectful. The king nodded in acknowledgement and waved his hand for him to offer himself a drink.
The king's face was impassive as he asked
"What are the reports from the eastern border?"
"The reports are troubling, Your Majesty," he said, his tone even and respectful. "The mad king has ordered the capture of any of his subjects that participated in the rebellion."
When the king said nothing, he continued.
"Orders were carried out to burn any farm land within a mile from our borders, your majesty."
The king chuckled as he looked up at the moon. "Hespare is a coward. He leads his land to destruction because of trivial matters. At least he knows not to cross me, the consequences would be disastrous." He said with an evil glint in his eye.
"Hadrien," the king said, turning to face his advisor. "Do you believe in the supernatural?" he asked. Hadrien raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He knew the king well enough to know that this was not a question to be taken lightly.
"Yes, your majesty. Is this about the woman?"
"I had always thought that such things were the stuff of children's stories," the king said. "But then I saw her. She was a vision of beauty, dressed in a gown of pure white, and her eyes were as deep and mysterious as the night sky. She spoke to me, though I could not understand her words. I reached out to her, but my hand passed through her like smoke. She was so real, more real than anything I had ever seen before." The king paused, lost in thought. Hadrien remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
"After that first night, I could not get her out of my mind," the king said. "I began to see her everywhere, in the shadows and in the shadows." he took a long drink from his goblet.
"I began to think that I was losing my mind, that I was going mad. What do you think, Hadrien? Am I going mad?" The king finally turned to look at his advisor with a wry smile.
"No, I do not my Lord." Hadrien replied, his head bowed.
The king stared into the flames of the fire, his face a mask of concentration. The flickering light danced across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the dark shadows beneath his eyes. "I am intrigued," he said slowly, his voice deep and smooth as velvet. "There is a puzzle here, a mystery that needs solving. And I, for one, am determined to uncover its secrets." He turned to look at Hadrien, a glint of steel in his eyes.
"What do you know of the legends of the Otherworld?" the king asks.
"The realm of the Otherworld is a place of myth and mystery, where the rules of our world do not apply. It is said that those who travel there may never return, lost forever in a realm of enchantment and illusion, milord."
"Hmm." was the reply. He continued to look at the flames for moments in deep contemplation. After a while, he asked turning to him, "Hadrien, why are you still here?"
"Forgive me my Lord but Lady Tricia just arrived." When the king said nothing, he continued."She asked to see you sire. She would like to know if..."
"Keep her busy." he cut him off. "I have other important things to attend to and I have no patience for her childish machinations."
"Yes milord." Hadrien bowed. This was going to be tricky, he thought as he exited the king's bedchambers.
The king downed the remaining wine and threw the goblet on the couch. Ringing for a maid, he striped and walked towards the bathing chamber.