Alasia Castle, Throne Room
The five remaining Royal Knights knelt low, the clink of their armor reverberating through the throne room. Their gazes lingered momentarily on their fallen comrades, but they quickly turned back, lowering themselves even further before Nyx. Fear and awe mingled on their faces as cold sweat traced down their brows.
"We greet our lord!" they proclaimed in unison, their voices strained but resolute, the weight of their loyalty evident in their trembling tones.
Nyx regarded them with a calculated glint in his eye, amused by the contrast of fear and devotion that now bound these men to him. There might have been more of them, he mused, but some were foolish enough to resist—and were, fortunately, discarded.
He leaned forward slightly, his voice commanding and unyielding. "We have one month."
The knights stiffened, listening intently as Nyx continued. "One month to retrieve the Princess."
The room hung in silence, the weight of his declaration settling on the knights like a shroud. Nyx leaned back, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. This journey, he thought with dark satisfaction, will be far simpler than the story. After all…we have a generous benefactor pulling the strings.
However, Nyx knew not to let his guard down for any outside interferences
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Viscount Wellian's Office
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In his candlelit study, Viscount Wellian felt an inexplicable shiver crawl up his spine, a sense of unease settling like a dark cloud over him.
"Something feels…off," he muttered, the ominous sensation gnawing at his thoughts.
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Alasia Castle, Throne Room
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Nyx's gaze drifted back to his assembled knights, his voice sharp and resolute. "You shall continue your roles as Royal Knights, outwardly loyal to the throne."
The knights nodded in understanding, their faces set with renewed purpose as they remained kneeling before him on the crimson carpet that stretched from the grand throne.
'Before I set out to retrieve the Princess', Nyx mused, his gaze hardening as he considered the path ahead, I'll need to account for the forces stirring in Alasia.
'Several noble families are already preparing for the tournament', he thought, a glint of calculation in his eyes. Each with their own agenda—and each a potential obstacle or__gain.
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Border of Alasia, 2000 Yards from Mijard Tower
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Hidden amidst the dense foliage, two scouts lay low, their keen eyes locked on a distant tower, its shadowed walls barely visible in the waning light.
"Objective locked," one scout whispered, his voice barely audible.
"Report to Camp"The First Scout continued
The second scout nodded, signaling to their encampment, the silent message relaying their discovery.
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Mansion of Count Trynal
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A man clad in an immaculate white tunic paced anxiously within a pristine office. This was the workspace of Count Trynal, who, despite his calm outward demeanor, wrestled with mounting tension as he paced back and forth.
"What's happening in the capital?" Count Trynal muttered aloud, his brows furrowing. "I've received no word from my liege on our plans."
Could it be that meddlesome Viscount Wellian? he mused, clenching his fists. Even as a Viscount, Wellian posed a significant threat—not only to a Count like himself but possibly even to a Duke.
The capital had become a nest of Wellian's influence, every alley and parlor filled with his spies. He could practically sway the masses with a single word. The plan was to frame Wellian through the court, to dismantle his influence piece by piece, Trynal thought. But recently, a letter had reached him with troubling news.
"The Princess is missing," he murmured, the realization sharpening his focus. "If I could gain her favor—or even her testimony—it might be enough to restore some semblance of control in the capital."
Suddenly, a knock echoed through the office, jolting him from his thoughts.
Knock! Knock!
"Who's there?" Count Trynal demanded, regaining his composure.
"Your second son asks for an audience, My Lord," came the response from the other side of the door.