Back in the dimly lit war room of Castle Ebonwind, Queen Nyssa sat at the head of a long, imposing table. The atmosphere was thick with tension, much like the storm that still raged outside. Flickering torches cast long shadows across the stone walls, and the cold chill of the room mirrored the unease that had gripped the kingdom.
Seated around the table were the members of her council, each of them handpicked for their skills, loyalty, and cunning. They had gathered to discuss the next steps after the gruesome discovery at the gates—the heads of her spies, a message sent with cruel precision. Prince Varrick stood beside Nyssa, arms crossed, his brow furrowed as the conversation unfolded.
Lord Halvor, Master of Strategy, leaned forward, his sharp eyes scanning the queen. "Majesty, we can't afford to sit idle. Whoever did this clearly wants us to hesitate, to doubt our strength. We should strike first. Mobilize the army, send a message of our own."
Nyssa's fingers drummed softly against the table, the metal of her rings tapping against the wood. "And who would we strike, Halvor?" she asked, her voice cool but cutting. "We have no target. Are you suggesting we march blindly into Tharavara, with no proof of who sent those heads to our gates?"
Halvor's jaw clenched. "We cannot appear weak, Your Majesty. Our enemies are watching, waiting for any sign of hesitation. They'll see this as a sign of vulnerability."
Across the table, Lady Aelith, the Mistress of Coin, shook her head. Her dark hair framed her face in neat braids, and her calculating gaze swept over Halvor. "War is expensive, Lord Halvor. Empty shows of strength are costly, and right now, we can't afford that. Not without knowing what we're up against."
Lord Cedric, Master of Intelligence, sat with his hands folded, his face shadowed in the flickering light. He had the look of a man used to watching from the sidelines, gathering information silently before making a move. "We need to gather more information," Cedric said quietly, his voice steady. "Whoever did this, they've made it clear they're willing to kill our people and send a message in blood. But we can't strike at shadows. We need to know more."
Lady Viera, Mistress of the Keep, frowned, her eyes flitting from one face to another. "And how do we know the spy network hasn't already been compromised?" she asked. "What if there are more of them, traitors among us?"
Nyssa's gaze darkened at the suggestion, her fingers stilling. "I handpicked those spies myself. They were the best we had." Her voice was like steel, sharp and unyielding. "We are not dealing with traitors, Lady Viera. We're dealing with enemies from outside our walls."
Varrick shifted beside her, his arms still crossed, his face grim. "It doesn't change the fact that we don't know who did this," he said. "And until we do, we're vulnerable."
Lord Eamon, the Master of Laws, cleared his throat, his aged face creased with concern. "Perhaps, Your Majesty, this is a time for diplomacy. We could reach out to our allies, feel them out for information. King Dorian of Solari, for instance, has always been pragmatic. He might know something."
Nyssa's lips pressed into a thin line as she considered his words. "And what message would that send? That we're afraid? That we need help?" She shook her head. "No, Eamon. We will not expose our hand like that."
For a moment, the room fell silent. The tension was palpable, the weight of the decisions to come pressing down on everyone present. Nyssa's gaze traveled over her council, taking in their faces. Each of them was skilled, valuable, but none of them were offering the solution she wanted to hear.
"We cannot be rash," Cedric continued cautiously. "This was a calculated move—someone who wants to weaken us, maybe provoke us into acting without thinking."
"And what would you suggest, Cedric?" Halvor snapped. "That we sit here and do nothing while our enemies plot against us?"
Cedric's calm demeanor didn't waver. "No. But we shouldn't walk into a trap."
Nyssa's cold gaze fell upon the Master of Intelligence. "You're right, Cedric. We need more information. But how do you propose we get it when our best spies have been slaughtered?"
Cedric hesitated, his sharp mind clearly at work. "We still have other assets in the kingdom. Lesser-known agents who haven't been exposed. We send them out, quietly, to investigate. We use them to find out who is behind this."
Aelith tilted her head, considering the suggestion. "It's less risky than open conflict. And it would give us more time to fortify our defenses."
"But what if we're attacked before we know who the enemy is?" Viera countered, her tone edged with fear. "We could be leaving ourselves exposed."
"Which is why we can't sit idle for too long," Varrick interjected. His voice was low but forceful, the tension in his shoulders evident. "Waiting is dangerous. But so is acting without certainty."
Nyssa stood abruptly, silencing the room. Her dark gown billowed around her as she moved to the large window overlooking the storm-lashed grounds of Castle Ebonwind. She stared out into the darkness, the rain slashing against the stone walls, the wind howling like a beast trying to break through.
"They've sent us a message," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper but carrying an authority that made everyone at the table listen. "They wanted us to be afraid, to react without thinking. But we won't give them that satisfaction."
She turned back to face her council, her eyes hard and unwavering. "We will wait."
A ripple of surprise moved through the room, though no one dared to voice their objections outright. Halvor opened his mouth as if to protest but closed it again when he saw the look in Nyssa's eyes.
"We will strengthen our defenses," Nyssa continued. "Double the patrols along our borders. Make sure no one enters or leaves Ebonwind without our knowledge. We will wait for them to make the next move."
"But Your Majesty," Eamon began, his voice careful, "if we do nothing, we risk appearing weak—"
"No," Nyssa cut him off. "We appear smart. Whoever did this is watching, waiting for us to react. Let them think we're doing nothing. In reality, we'll be preparing."
Cedric nodded, understanding the queen's intent. "We'll quietly reach out to our informants, those still loyal and unknown. I'll make sure the investigation continues, under the surface."
Halvor clenched his fists but remained silent. He clearly didn't like the idea of waiting, of doing nothing overt. But even he couldn't deny the wisdom in Nyssa's words.
Aelith leaned back in her chair, a slight smile playing on her lips. "It's risky, but it could work. We bide our time, let the enemy show their hand."
Lady Viera still looked uneasy, her fingers tapping against the armrest of her chair. "And if they attack before we know who they are?"
Nyssa's gaze was cold, unyielding. "Then we'll be ready. We'll have the advantage. They won't expect us to be prepared."
Varrick stepped forward, his voice firm. "We can't let fear dictate our actions. We need to be strategic, deliberate. And when the time is right, we'll strike."
The council members exchanged glances, some nodding in agreement, others clearly still uneasy. But no one argued. Nyssa had made her decision, and that was final.
"We will wait," Nyssa repeated, her eyes locking on each of her council members in turn. "But when the moment comes, we will act swiftly and decisively. Whoever did this will regret underestimating us."
With that, the meeting was over. One by one, the council members rose from their seats, bowing slightly before filing out of the room. Halvor lingered for a moment longer, his eyes flicking to Varrick before turning back to the queen.
"If you'll excuse me, Your Majesty," he said, his voice tight. "I'll see to the defense preparations."
Nyssa nodded, watching as he left the room, his broad shoulders tense with barely concealed frustration. When the doors closed behind him, she let out a quiet sigh, her sharp features softening for just a moment.
Varrick moved to her side. "Are you sure about this?"
Nyssa turned to him, her expression hardening once again. "It's the only choice we have, Varrick. We can't act blindly. Not now."
Varrick nodded, though the tension in his frame didn't ease. "And if we're wrong?"
"We're not," Nyssa said firmly. "We will not be caught off guard again."
As the storm continued to rage outside, Queen Nyssa and her son stood in silence, both of them knowing that the next move would be crucial. The enemy had made their move, but the game was far from over. And Nyssa, ever the strategist, was already planning her next play.
To Be Continued...