Magic could be used in many ways; one, if powerful enough, could even bring the dead back to life. A rather powerful ability that only the most refined sorcerers could perform.
But now, with these abilities exposed, their powers were highly regarded in the eyes of those who could be their enemies.
"Was it really a precise decision?" asked Lucian, who was still questioning whether they had done the right thing.
"I don't know, but I do know that problems will come to us if my betrothed is named heir to the throne. Many would question those decisions, as I doubt the King would have allowed his brother to be the heir."
Lucian looked at Haldor and asked, "Do you have a logical answer to that?"
"Daemon is reckless, stubborn, and extremely decisive with his choices. He doesn't care about tomorrow or the future; he lives in the present as if it were the last and bites instead of chewing," said Haldor, explaining in a special way about that man who was the King's brother.
"What about the King's Hand?"
"A reckless man, he controls much of the King's decisions through political dialogues that force His Majesty to make immediate choices based on what he needs. It wouldn't be surprising to think he would offer his daughter as queen if Aemma had died; this would give him many opportunities to put a descendant on the throne."
Lucian was surprised by Haldor's great deductions, something he hadn't bothered to explain in such detail before.
"I still wonder what the prince desires," murmured Haldor as he walked away to rest; after all, they couldn't return to the tournament.
…
"You must kill him as soon as possible!"
"You must kill him as soon as possible!"
"You must kill him as soon as possible!"
"Sir Otto, are you alright? You look a bit pale." Corlys looked at Otto, who had returned after knowing the queen was fine, and nodded.
"Do you need some water?"
"I'm fine. By the way, according to my information, the king's son was born without any problems," said Otto in a somewhat unnatural voice.
His dreams had been interrupted after the appearance of Haldor Mondragon, the princess's betrothed. In his dreams, someone whispered in his ears that he must kill Haldor before he becomes the ruin of the seven kingdoms; he always received those kinds of dreams.
But he wasn't sure what was happening to him until today, when he witnessed firsthand how Haldor had saved the King's descendant, who should have died.
He heard from the distant future how he had lost the opportunity for his blood to sit on the throne because of what Haldor had done, so he honestly didn't know how to react to it.
Everything was so real it was consuming him; his dreams weren't peaceful, and now his days were strange.
…
At night, when everyone should have been resting after a long day of intense emotions, Haldor was outside once more.
"How are you, Azazel? Have you found any dragons to conquer?" Haldor asked, joking with his dragon, who nudged him gently, somewhat aggrieved.
"Yes, you are still small."
"No, of course, I'm not mocking you for not finding a girlfriend."
"I'm sure you'll find a place to dip your wand."
Haldor laughed out loud when he said the same words Ravyn had said long before. Only now did he know for sure that he was surrounded by the right people.