Prince Theodore Triesenberg paced the length of his opulent war room, his boots thudding on the polished marble floor. The sound echoed in the cavernous chamber, punctuated only by his labored breathing. Maps and naval reports lay scattered across a wide mahogany table at the room's center. His gaze was fixed on nothing in particular, yet his mind was consumed by thoughts of the Valorian fleet and the shame that now darkened his name.
The door creaked open behind him, and his aide, Lieutenant Falk, entered quietly, his face pale. Theodore didn't turn, but he felt the weight of Falk's presence.
"Your Highness..." Falk began, his voice trembling ever so slightly. He hesitated for a moment, then continued. "The Triesenese Naval Fleet has...retreated from their positions near Valorian waters. Admiral Sturbridge complied with their demands."
