Aaron sat in his throne room, his gaze fixed on the scroll before him. It was an appeal, a plea from the nobles, a desperate attempt to overturn his coronation, to restore their power, to reclaim their privileges. He read through the words, his lips curling into a sneer. He saw the desperation in their plea, the fear in their words, the anger in their hearts.
He crumpled the scroll in his fist, his eyes flashing with fury. He would not be swayed. He would not back down. He would not allow them to undermine his authority, to derail his vision for a better kingdom.
He stood up, his presence commanding the room. The messenger, his face pale with fear, stood before him, his hands trembling. He had delivered the nobles' appeal, but he had failed to anticipate the king's wrath.
"Take this back to your masters," Aaron said, his voice a low growl. "Tell them that their appeal is worthless. Tell them that I will not be swayed. Tell them that I will not be deterred."
The messenger, his heart pounding in his chest, bowed low. He turned and fled, his steps hurried and frantic. He knew that he had witnessed something extraordinary, something dangerous. He knew that he had been in the presence of a king who would not be challenged.
A guard, his face etched with urgency, burst through the doors of the throne room. He ran towards Aaron, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Your Majesty," he gasped, "there's an army marching towards the Royal City. Duke Lucian of the North is leading them."
Aaron, his eyes widening in surprise, turned to the messenger, who stood frozen in the doorway. The messenger, his face pale with fear, nodded. He knew that he had been right to deliver the news, that he had been right to warn the king.
"He's coming for me," Aaron said, his voice a low growl. He knew that Duke Lucian was a powerful enemy, a cunning strategist, a ruthless warrior. He knew that this was a battle he could not afford to lose.
The messenger, his heart pounding in his chest, turned and fled, his steps hurried and frantic. He knew that he had to warn the other Dukes, that he had to tell them what he had seen, what he had heard. He knew that the kingdom was on the brink of war.
The three Dukes, their faces a mixture of anger and apprehension, stood in a private chamber, their voices hushed and their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and excitement.
"What did you say?" Duke Aldric asked, his voice laced with fury. "He ripped apart our appeal? That stubborn king!"
The messenger, his breath coming in ragged gasps, nodded. "He was furious," he said. "He said he wouldn't be swayed. He said he wouldn't be deterred."
"And then what?" Duke Theodore asked, his voice filled with a hint of curiosity.
"A guard came running in," the messenger said, his voice trembling. "He said that Duke Lucian of the North is marching his men towards the Royal City. The king went to fight them off."
Duke Theodore, his eyes widening in surprise, chuckled. "Lucian?" he said. "I thought he was a coward. He never dared to challenge the king before."
Duke Marius, his eyes gleaming with a sinister glint, stopped them. "What are you thinking, both of you?" he said, his voice low and menacing. "This is the perfect time. The throne is empty. We can gather our allied nobles and make Cassius the real king."
Cassius, his face contorted with a mixture of anger and excitement, stepped forward. "Everyone who wants my brother thrown away must be present," he said, his voice filled with a hint of desperation. "I want as many witnesses as possible. I want everyone to see that I am the rightful heir to the throne."
The Dukes, their faces filled with a mixture of fear and ambition, nodded. They knew that this was their chance, their opportunity to seize power, to overthrow Aaron, to restore their way of life. They were ready to fight.