"What do you mean you can't find her?" the king's booming voice echoed through the throne room. He slammed his fist against the armrest of his grand chair, his expression twisted with fury. Clad in royal robes, with a ceremonial sword by his side, he seemed every inch the imposing ruler that he was.
"Sire, we've searched all nearby territories, but there's been no sign of her," a guard stammered, his voice faltering under the weight of the king's wrath.
"Send out more troops! I want her found immediately. And bring me the captain!" the king barked, his face growing red with anger. The guard bowed hastily and rushed out of the room, eager to avoid any further confrontation.
Moments later, the captain of the guard arrived, standing at attention in front of the throne.
"All the troops, captain. I want them all out there searching for Elara," the king ordered. "Leave no stone unturned."
"Sire, if we dispatch all the troops, the castle will be vulnerable," the captain replied carefully, knowing the risk of contradicting the king.
"I don't care about the castle! My daughter is out there, and I want her found," the king shouted, leaving no room for argument. "Do it. Now."
The captain saluted and swiftly left, and soon the sound of galloping horses echoed through the courtyard as guards departed in droves to search for the missing princess.
---
Meanwhile, at Tristan's secluded hut in the forest, the morning light filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow over everything. Inside, the smell of roasted meat and freshly brewed tea filled the small space.
Elara stirred from her sleep, her body aching from the previous days' exertions. She opened her eyes to find Tristan at the fire, humming softly as he prepared breakfast. When he noticed her awake, he smiled and gestured toward the table.
"Good morning, my lady. Breakfast is ready. I hope the aroma isn't overwhelming," he teased lightly, offering a playful bow.
Elara smiled despite herself. "Not at all. You seem rather good at this," she remarked, sitting up and accepting the plate of food.
As she took small bites, her gaze fell on a leather-bound journal tucked beneath the bed. When Tristan turned his back to tend to the fire, she couldn't resist reaching for it. Opening it carefully, she saw pages filled with intricate handwriting, stories of battles, wanderings, and more.
Tristan turned around just as she was flipping through a particularly personal page. His eyes darkened immediately.
"You shouldn't be reading that," he said, his voice low but firm. He stepped toward her, snatching the journal from her hands.
"I'm sorry... I just couldn't help it," Elara replied softly, a flush rising to her cheeks. "It's beautiful, really."
Tristan exhaled sharply and shook his head, setting the journal aside. "You shouldn't have touched it." His voice held no malice, just a weary resignation.
Before Elara could respond, Tristan turned to the window and frowned. His gaze hardened. "We need to leave. Now."
"What? Why?" Elara asked, confusion flickering across her face.
"The king's men are searching for you. They'll find you soon, and they'll find me. That's something neither of us can afford."
Elara stood, limping slightly as she reached for her cloak. "I'm not going anywhere, Tristan. I'm safe here."
"You don't understand," Tristan muttered, clearly frustrated. "They'll come with everything they have. You need to return to the palace."
As they argued, a group of wolves approached the hut, nipping and growling excitedly. They led a wild horse toward the clearing, forcing it to rear and buck until Tristan calmly approached, raising his hand to the creature. The horse calmed instantly, its large, dark eyes locking onto Tristan as he ran his hand over its snout.
"I need to test this one," Tristan said, mounting the horse with ease. "I'll be back soon." He urged the horse into a gallop, riding off into the forest.
---