Lucian stood resolutely in the grand throne room, the imposing figure of the King looming before him. It had been two weeks since Arnold had departed on his quest for the elusive Ashenbloom root, and in that brief span, a tempest had brewed within the confines of his own life. Just days prior, his father had stormed into his chamber, a cacophony of indignation echoing in his wake. His intentions had been clear: to admonish his son for an apparent indiscretion. Yet, the scene he encountered was far from what he had anticipated.
There, amidst the disarray of his room, lay a girl—unfamiliar and delicate. Lucian, sprawled on the couch in a state of slumber, had narrowly escaped the wrath that had been poised to descend upon him. With a swift explanation, he had managed to quell his father's fury, but the reprieve was short-lived. The old man, his brow furrowed with a mix of concern and anger, had deemed it necessary to drag the young man before the King, a punishment that felt more like a public humiliation.
Now, as Lucian stood beneath the regal gaze of the monarch, the air thick with tension, he listened to the King's thunderous voice reverberate through the chamber. "To treat someone without my knowledge, and not even a noble, but a mere peasant!" The King's words struck like a hammer on anvil, each syllable echoing the weight of his authority.
The King, though only four years Lucian's senior, carried the gravitas of his station with an unyielding sternness. "Why did you choose to extend your care beyond the castle walls?" His piercing gaze bore into Lucian, demanding an answer.
Before Lucian could gather his thoughts, the soft but resolute voice of Josephine interjected, breaking the oppressive silence. "Your Majesty, the girl is my friend. She has been unconscious for weeks now," she declared, her tone a delicate balance of truth and embellishment. "When she arrived here, she was extraordinarily pale, as if life itself was but a whisper within her."
"Friend?" The King scoffed, a mocking lilt to his words that sent a ripple of discomfort through Josephine. "I was unaware that you possessed any friends, sister." His derision sliced through the air, momentarily dimming her resolve.
"Bring me to her," the King commanded, rising from his opulent throne with a regal air that demanded immediate compliance. "I wish to meet this friend of yours." His words carried an undertone of curiosity, yet the gravity of his tone left no room for dissent.
In that moment, the throne room stood still, charged with anticipation as Lucian and Josephine exchanged glances, the fate of the young girl hanging precariously in the balance.
"What? B-but my room is small. It is not suitable for His Majesty to enter," Lucian stammered, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks.
"So? It's not as if I intend to take my rest there," King Jaxthar replied, his tone laced with a hint of amusement.
As they arrived at Lucian's modest chamber, the King took it upon himself to open the door, a gesture that sent ripples of shock through the gathered audience. Typically, a monarch of his stature would defer such tasks to the servants, but here he was, breaking tradition with an audacity that left onlookers both bewildered and intrigued.
With a confident stride, King Jaxthar approached the bed, flanked by those eager to glimpse the so-called friend of Princess Josephine. The hushed whispers of curiosity filled the room, an undercurrent of anticipation palpable in the air.
Upon reaching the bedside, the King's eyes widened in astonishment, a mixture of surprise and admiration washing over his features. He pointed at the girl with an incredulous expression. "This—this is your friend?" he inquired, directing his astonished gaze toward his sister, who regarded him with a sidelong glance.
"Yes," she replied simply, her demeanor unwavering despite the King's evident surprise.
King Jaxthar turned his attention back to the young woman, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Such a beautiful girl! She is even more enchanting than the Queen!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement as he took in her delicate features and serene expression.
Those who stood nearby exchanged knowing glances, fully aware of the King's notorious reputation as a playboy and womanizer. Despite being married with three children, his penchant for visiting brothels had long displeased the Queen, casting a shadow over his royal duties.
"Your friend—tell me, is she unmarried?" King Jaxthar inquired, his curiosity unmistakable, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. The question hung in the air, igniting an undercurrent of tension as all present awaited Josephine's response, the implications of the King's interest rippling through the room like a wave.
As Josephine prepared to respond, King Jaxthar abruptly cut her off, his voice rising in fervor. "Arghh! I don't care! I shall pay her husband gold! I must marry this girl!" he declared, the fervency of his proclamation echoing off the stone walls of the chamber.
A swell of frustration surged within Josephine, her instinct to retaliate almost overwhelming as she fought the urge to kick the self-absorbed King for his interruption. The lords in attendance began to murmur amongst themselves, their whispers a cacophony of discontent. "But Your Majesty, the Queen will be greatly displeased..." one ventured cautiously, his tone laced with trepidation.
"Why should I care!" Jaxthar thundered, his voice filled with a reckless abandon that sent shivers through the gathered nobility. "My marriage to the Queen is merely a political arrangement. My true soulmate is here before me. I shall marry her at once and elevate her to the throne as my queen!" His declaration rang through the room, a bold assertion that reverberated with both excitement and dread.
"Your Majesty, you already have a queen—"
"The Queen will reign over this kingdom," he interjected, his voice firm and unwavering, "but this girl—she will be the queen of my heart!" The King's impassioned words hung in the air, a declaration that sent a wave of discomfort surging through Josephine. She cringed internally, the notion of the King treating the girl as a mere possession, an object to be won, unsettled her deeply.
"Why is she not awake yet?" he demanded, turning his gaze sharply to Lucian, frustration etched across his features.
"Your Majesty, she is in a coma," Lucian replied, his voice steady despite the tempest brewing around him.
"Then search for the Ashenbloom!" King Jaxthar commanded, his tone resolute. "I want to be the first to witness her awakening!" The urgency in his voice left no room for dissent, a fervor that was both alarming and enthralling.
Josephine sighed inwardly, the realization dawning upon her that men would always be driven by their desires, often to the detriment of reason. She could already envision the chaos that would ensue once the Queen discovered this audacious scheme. Yet, amidst the turmoil, Josephine remained unperturbed; she had a plan of her own. For now, all she needed to do was wait for Arnold.