The weather during the journey alternated between heavy downpours and gusts of wind, sometimes accompanied by thunder. Emília began to shiver from the cold, and her wound throbbed with pain. Arthur removed his coat and placed it around her, then quickly resumed trotting on his horse.
The two remained silent throughout the journey, and even if they had something to say, it would have been impossible to hear. The storm was fierce and relentless, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean. Gradually, the castle drew nearer, and Emília sighed in relief. However, that feeling did not last long. An invasion was underway, and soldiers dressed in red were battling the Drakondians.
"Who are they?" Emília shouted to Arthur, who frowned.
"They're the army of Martri. But I don't understand what they're doing here, especially in this storm. The Sand People rarely fight in the rain," Arthur replied, scanning their surroundings for something. "Emília, do you know any way into the castle?"
Emília thought for a moment. She seldom ventured into the castle when Edward wasn't around and was unfamiliar with the palace rooms. The only places she knew well were the library and the stables, where she had spent all these years. She glanced toward the library window and thought she saw a light flickering inside.
"Come, I have an idea," Emília said, grabbing the horse's reins to guide them toward her chosen path. Seeing her hands so close, Arthur blushed slightly and forgot the plan for a moment. "There, do you see? That's the library. It's not too high. We just need a ladder. There's always one in the stables."
Emília directed Arthur, and the two dismounted the horse. As expected, the ladder was still by the stable door. Arthur carried it to the window carefully, trying not to attract attention from the enemies.
"I think you should go first," Emília said, eyeing the ladder with uncertainty. "If there's someone inside, I'll be the first one they attack."
"You're right. Hold this for me," Arthur said, starting to climb. "Once I'm up, remember to follow quickly."
Emília nodded. She glanced around and noticed that the rain was washing away pools of blood. She thought of Edward—the young king with blond hair and a fierce gaze. She had to find out how he was.
"Alright, your turn," Arthur called, and Emília began to climb slowly, trembling from the pain in her abdomen. She tried not to look down, knowing that even though the height wasn't great, it was still risky.
"LOOK WHAT WE HAVE HERE!" A soldier in red shouted. "Python will be pleased to see this little girl we're bringing her!"
The soldier grabbed Emília's foot, and she screamed—a mistake that only drew more enemies toward them.
"Emília, grab my hand!" Arthur yelled, and Emília's slender fingers reached desperately for his rough ones.
Panic gripped Emília's chest. Arthur watched the scene in distress, while the soldiers laughed, and she struggled to reach the elf. Everything came to a halt when a thick, knotted rope suddenly dropped from the library window. Arthur jumped, and a figure appeared, lowering the rope. Emília grabbed it firmly and was pulled up with force, managing to reach the ledge. The soldiers tried to climb up the ladder, but Arthur unsheathed his sword and easily sliced it in two.
"Kátia!" Emília cried, running into her friend's strong arms. "I missed you! Where's Eitor?"
Kátia hugged her back but quickly pulled away to face the tall, dark-haired elf.
"That's a question for your friend," she said, her tone sharp—something Emília had never heard before. "Where is my brother?"
"I don't know him," Arthur replied, confused.
"I can smell him on your blade," she retorted, pointing to his sword.
"Kátia, it's all a big misunderstanding," Emília said, placing her hand on the dwarf's shoulder. "Arthur is a good person. He would never harm Eitor. In fact, I'm only here because he saved me from a wolf, can you believe it?"
Kátia's face twisted with fury, and for a moment, Emília could swear she saw fangs emerging from the woman's mouth. But she dismissed it as her imagination.
"So it really was you who killed him," the dwarf growled. "You'll pay for this, elf!"
"You're mistaken. It's not me who needs to answer for anything here," Arthur said, standing tall before her. "You and your brother are from Londrin—loyal warriors of the old king and now of my brother Phillip. But it seems you've forgotten your noble values. Attempting to kill an innocent girl is the filthiest act a dwarf could commit. Followers of my brother will be annihilated by me."
Kátia lunged at Arthur, attempting to strike him, but he swiftly dodged.
"Your brother was a bit better at this," he said, with a slight chuckle that only enraged the dwarf further.
"You have to die!" Kátia screamed, landing a kick on Arthur's leg. "It's a direct order from the king."
"Phillip isn't your king. I am."
"The orders come from Lasgol, our true king," Kátia shot back, and Arthur's expression darkened. Emília remembered the story he had told her in the cave. A bluish glow appeared in the elf's eyes as he prepared his blade to strike.
"Arthur, don't—" Emília began, but before she could finish, Kátia was no more. Emília approached the mutilated body and wept. Eitor and Kátia had been her companions for years. Since she rarely left the castle, she had imagined the siblings could become her friends. Even if it was all a lie, it hurt to see the dwarf's lifeless body on the blood-soaked ground.
"Let's go, Emília. Later, we can display her head as a warning to the other traitors," Arthur said, sheathing his sword.
Emília swallowed her tears. How could he be so cold?
She scanned the room, searching for a specific book. She found it on the shelf overlooking the window. Before anything else, she needed to learn more about Python and Phillip.