Dorian stood before the majestic castle, its four towering towers, moat, and bridge marking it as the grandest structure in all of Pyralon—fitting for the residence of the King.
Upon entering, the castle servants greeted Dorian with bows as he passed through the halls.
Navigating the corridors, he made his way directly to the King's Courtroom, suspecting that the King and his courtiers would be in session this morning.
Arriving at the imposing doors, the two Knights stationed there bowed to him before opening the entrance.
Inside the room, the King's Courtiers were assembled around a large, round table. Everyone was present except the King.
Upon Dorian's entrance, they all rose from their seats as he approached the table.
"Lord Firebane, your return is noted. Welcome home," warmly acknowledged one of the Courtiers.
"Indeed, your absence was keenly felt. Welcome back," added another.
However, Dorian paid little heed to their words, recognizing the insincerity in their welcomes.
In truth, each man seated at the table harbored resentment towards him, driven by fear. His proximity to the King and his role in maintaining order throughout the Kingdom made him a figure to be both respected and loathed.
During his absence, they reveled in their newfound freedom, indulging in plans such as looting the royal treasury or imposing unjust taxes. Dorian saw through their greed and deception, dismissing them as a bunch of cunning fools.
"Where is the King?" Dorian grunted the question at Louis, the King's right hand, who promptly responded.
"The King is in his chambers. He won't be joining us today," Louis answered.
Dorian asserted with authority, "Then this meeting is concluded. Everyone is dismissed."
The courtiers exchanged looks, some displaying annoyance on their faces. Dorian, indifferent to their reactions, walked out of the courtroom with a determined stride, heading to find the King.
As he left, one Courtier muttered, "First day of his return, and he's already acting like he owns the place."
"I actually prayed he never returned. Clearly, that prayer wasn't answered," quipped another, eliciting laughter from the group.
"I knew we should have taken matters into our own hands and ensured he was killed on his way back. But you bunch of cowards refused," one schemer suggested.
"Hush, you idiot. And what if something goes wrong, and the King finds out?" another cautioned.
"He would skin us alive, that's for sure. You know how fond he is of Lord Firebane," replied a cautious voice.
"We still need to do something about him. Once and for all," someone asserted.
Dorian tuned out of their conversation, confident that he could handle whatever they planned. He would deal with them later; right now, he had to find the King, who was not in his chambers as expected.
Dorian walked through the halls and stumbled upon one of the castle maids. He stopped her and asked, "Do you have any idea where the King is?"
The maid looked up at Dorian, and a blush colored her cheeks. "He's at his nunnery, M'Lord," she answered.
Dorian nodded in acknowledgment as she bowed and walked away. "His Nunnery. Oh, Ramsey, when will you ever change," Dorian thought as he made his way toward the nunnery on the other side of the castle.
The nunnery, a place reserved exclusively for the King's use, housed numerous women, and access was strictly prohibited to any man in the castle. Disobeying this rule meant facing death as punishment—a severe consequence that Dorian knew well as he entered the place.
The atmosphere inside was lavish but reeked of alcohol. Dorian's expression soured as he walked through the darkened halls with closed windows. Passing an empty first hall, he entered the second, which was far from vacant.
The large room was a scene of revelry, with naked ladies strewn about, surrounded by wine glasses. It resembled a chaotic party. In the center lay a large bed, and there, sprawled amidst a pile of naked women, was King Ramsey—fast asleep.
Dorian sighed, unsure of what to do next. Surveying the room, he spotted a bunch of grapes. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he picked them up, one by one tossing them at the sleeping King Ramsey, whose face wrinkled at the disturbance before his eyes finally snapped open and met Dorian's gaze.
"You bloody bastard!" King Ramsey exclaimed with a wide smile on his face.
"My King," Dorian said with a very slight bow.
"Are you bowing out of respect or because you really care?" King Ramsey queried with a smile.
"Neither," Dorian replied with a smirk.
Ramsey chuckled, "You woke me up with grapes?" He picked a grape from the bed.
"Would you have preferred darts?" Dorian inquired.
"I can't believe I missed you," Ramsey chuckled as he carefully made his way down from the bed, attempting not to step on or wake any of the sleeping ladies.
"I see you were pretty occupied last night," Dorian remarked to King Ramsey.
"I was. Not every man possesses your ability to resist the allure of women," King Ramsey said with a chuckle as he donned his robe.
Dorian brushed off the comment "I leave you for a couple of days, and you forget all your responsibilities," he said, surveying the room.
"Oh, no. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," Ramsey replied, feigning fear. "You're always so uptight. Maybe I should make you King."
"I'm being serious, Ramsey. You need to take charge and be in control, not waste your time partying away with whores. Besides, you have a Queen. Where is your wife?" Dorian grunted.
"She's somewhere," King Ramsey replied with a nonchalant shrug.
Dorian sighed in disappointment and began walking out, with Ramsey following closely behind.
Ramsey, a young and reluctant King, shied away from his responsibilities, preferring to spend his time drinking, hunting, and having sex with numerous women. He was the second son of King Nathaniel, reluctantly crowned after his elder brother's death—a title and burden he despised.
Dorian and Ramsey had been friends since childhood, their fathers' closeness forging a bond between them despite their stark differences.
"Look, I'm genuinely doing my best. When you weren't here, everything became immensely challenging for me," Ramsey admitted to Dorian, unafraid to be honest with his friend.
"You can't always depend on me, Ramsey. You have to take charge. You are the King."
"That's why I'm entertaining the thought of making you King."
"Very amusing, Ramsey."
"Indeed," Ramsey chuckled with a wry laugh. "Anyway, I heard you excelled at the tournament and acquired yourself a stunning prize."
"How did you learn about that?" Dorian inquired with a faint frown.
"Word travels fast around here. And, of course, I dispatched some discreet observers," Ramsey replied with a nonchalant shrug. "I want to meet her," he declared.
"Who?"
"Your Goddess. That's how people describe her, right? I absolutely must make her acquaintance," Ramsey said, flashing a broad smile.