1214-01-06

Chirp!

It's late, I thought to myself, glancing toward the window.

The room smelled faintly of rosewood, a scent that I barely noticed anymore. My eyes wandered across my room.

One of them caught my eye—a small knight carved from wood, standing on the windowsill. My mother had given it to me years ago. The knight only had one arm now; I'd broken it off while playing as a child. I remembered the moment so clearly, her comforting me after my tears of guilt. We never had it fixed, but it had remained one of my most cherished possessions.

I stared at the toy, a faint smile tugging at my lips as warm memories of my mother flooded back. For a moment, the weight of the present faded.

But as the sun barely pierced the thick velvet curtains, casting faint glimmers of light in the massive chamber, I shook the thoughts away. Dwelling on the past wouldn't change the now.

I jumped out of bed, the cold floor biting at my feet, and moved toward the window. My reflection flickered in the golden frame, warped and distant.

I changed clothes and I adjusted my collar, feeling the weight of the embroidered royal insignia—a cross with a sword running through it—on my chest. A symbol of responsibility. A symbol of the burden I would one day bear as the successor to the throne.

I looked into the nearby mirror, my eyes still adjusting to the morning light. My messy brown hair fell unevenly around my face, blurring into the golden glow of my eyes as I blinked away the haze of sleep.

My desk was a familiar clutter—papers scattered across its surface, remnants of stories I had written, ideas abandoned, and notes about days long past.

"Though we walk through the valley of death, the lion will protect us."

Turning away from the window, I heard the soft knock of the door behind me. Leroy stepped in, his tall frame framed by the golden light streaming through the curtains. 

"Can I do anything for you, Your Majesty?" he asked

His dark skin seemed to shine under the room's light, the formal attire of a palace servant perfectly pressed.

"No..." I paused, glancing at him. "Leroy, have you had lunch yet?"

"No, Your Majesty. It's being prepared now," he replied with quiet efficiency.

"Thank you, Leroy," I said simply, grabbing a robe as I made my way to the door.

As I left the room, Leroy followed closely behind. The vast corridors of the palace stretched out before us, their towering ceilings casting long shadows. Ornate arches framed the space, and sunlight spilled in through narrow, colored windows, painting fleeting patterns on the stone floor.

Despite its beauty, the castle felt hollow, its size amplifying the silence. The only sounds were the soft footsteps of servants.

When we arrived at the kitchen several cooks bustled about, carefully preparing elaborate dishes destined for a table I would not sit at and a king who rarely ate them.

I watched them work with meticulous precision, their hands moving swiftly to craft meals that seemed destined to remain untouched. Guilt settled in my chest, as it always did, seeing their efforts poured into something that would likely go unnoticed.

"Doesn't feel right, does it?" I murmured, half to Leroy and half to myself.

These people—these maids and servants—had practically raised me after my mother died. The castle, once full of life and excitement where I'd run and run for hours, had become stale.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," one of the maids said as she bowed.

"What are you cooking?" I asked, peeking inside the kitchen.

"Stew and bread," another of the chefs replied.

"Great," I smiled. "Leroy, send some to my room."

Leroy stayed behind with the cooks as I continued my walk through the halls.

These servants had been my family. After my mother passed, they had cared for me. The castle that once felt like a playground now seemed lifeless. The grand halls, the vast rooms, all felt like they were closing in on me.

They should feel the need to bow to me, I thought.

"A crown is not an ornament; it is a weight," my mother used to say.

I passed the dining room, a massive space with purple drapes and a long table that spanned the whole room. Ten chairs surrounded it, and I had always hoped that one day those seats would be filled.

However only one chair was occupied—a young woman, a face I hadn't seen in a long time. Her blonde hair caught the candlelight, and her blue eyes seemed to glow. Her face was stressed, her fingers knocked against the table almost rhythmically.

Liora.

Once Liora noticed me, a smile crossed her face. She ran over and hugged me, and I sank into her slightly, feeling the comfort of her presence.

"I've missed you so much, Adrian," she said, her voice thick with emotion, almost crying.

"It's good to see you too, Liora," I laughed. "How did you get into the castle?"

"You ask too many questions," she said, slowly pushing closer and kissing me.

It was a warm embrace. Liora is my bride-to-be. Ahk used to be divided into two states, and the leaders of both decided to unite. We were promised to each other at the time.

I remember complaining when I was young—why should I marry a woman I barely knew? I was only about 5. It didn't leave a good impression on her, but this act ended the civil war, allowing Ahk to focus on defending itself. The year after the 100-Year War ended.

"I thought you were abroad in UIK," I said, pulling back slightly.

To answer your question," she continued, "Your father summoned me."

"My father summoned you?" I asked, confused.

"I don't know why," she said. "I thought I'd get something good to eat while I wait."

As she said those words, servants flooded the dining hall, covering the table with food—platters of roasted meats, steaming vegetables, and rich, fragrant stews. A dessert tray followed, filled with pastries, honey cakes, and fresh fruit. The sweet aroma filled the room.

"Shall we eat?" she said, smiling at me.

"We shall," I laughed, feeling the tension of the moment slip away.

As the maids turned back to the kitchen, Liora's face turned sour, as if she were disappointed.

"Stay with us!" she called out to the maids. "Let's get some chairs!" 

She turned to me, her expression softening again. "What good is food without good company?"

As we ate, a smile crossed my face. Liora is the love of my life, and although we had a rough start, she was one of the reasons I kept going. Now that the day was coming closer, it felt surreal. 

"Adrian," Liora said, her energy bubbling as she poked at her plate of roasted meats. "Which do you prefer the meat or the fish ?"

"I don't know about you, but the fish is definitely better. It's lighter, it has more flavor."I chuckled, picking up my fork.

"The fish?" she scoffed. "Meat is always better! "

"It's the sea, Liora. The fish has the taste of the ocean. You can't beat that."

"You're such a diplomat, Adrian. Always thinking of the bigger picture."

"What can I say? I'm a man of simple tastes."I smiled.

The cooks, busy in their duties, filtered out of the room one by one. Liora, ever the energetic one, looked at me with a spark in her eyes.

 "Let's go to the garden," she said, knocking her chair over. It fell with a loud thud, and she quickly rushed to pick it up. "I'm so sorry!"

I laughed softly. "Just be careful."

The garden was a spectacle, filled with flowers of every color imaginable—vibrant reds, yellows, and purples as well as soft pinks and whites. The flowers had been carefully tended to by Leroy. They seemed to dance in the wind.

Liora skipped ahead, her hands reaching for a watering can that had been set nearby. She knelt by a patch of roses, pouring water over the plants. Her face lit up as she watered each flower, her eyes full of life.

As she finished watering the flowers, she looked up at me, a wide smile covering her face. There was a sense of peace about her in this moment, her energetic personality softened by the calm of the garden. 

"These flowers always remind me of you," I said quietly.

She laughed, her energy returning. "Well, I do try," she said with a wink. 

"Why do you think your father summoned me?" Liora asked.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the question. "If I had to guess he wants to take back Dios and that land from Wara."

She nodded slowly. "He's too old, and he'll have you do it..."

"Before I take the throne," I added softly.

Liora's eyes filled with emotion, and a small tear escaped. She wiped it away quickly, but the sadness lingered in her voice. 

"Though I had always hoped to lead this kingdom into a time of peace, it seems that dream is slipping further away." She quietly cried.

Liora sniffled softly, pulling away just enough to look at me, her eyes desperate. "It's not that the Lion will protect you"

"I promise, I'll make it back," I stuttered

"I'll take back Dios, as quickly as possible."

She wiped her eyes. "Before July 1st," she said.

I smiled back, a sense of determination settling in my chest. "Before July 1st."

We held each other in silence for a moment.

"I hate to break up the moment," said a deep voice, "but we have business to discuss, your Majesty."

I turned to see Voss, one of my father's generals. He was a tall, broad man with brown hair and eyes, wearing red leather armor beneath black and silver plating. He looked as imposing as ever, his presence commanding attention.

"What is it, Voss?" I asked, stepping away from Liora, still feeling the warmth of her embrace.

"The King requires your presence, Your Majesty," Voss replied, his voice as firm as his stance. "It's urgent."

"Lead the way," I said

We made it to the throne room, where a massive door barred our way. Voss knocked, and the door swung open. Keeping my head low, I walked along the red carpet.

"Rise," a voice commanded.

The pale, sickly color of his skin, the deep lines under his eyes—it was clear something was wrong.

"I am dying, son," he whispered. "My time is running short."

A lump rose in my throat, and I swallowed it down. "Father, no… you can't be serious."

He nodded gravely. "It's true. And with my death, you will be the one to lead. You are my heir."

The future of the kingdom now rested on my shoulders. I had always known this day would come.

"Your first task is to save what is ours," the king continued, his eyes narrowing. 

"But, Father, we risk conflict with more than just Wara."

"Protection demands a price. In this realm, it's often paid in force."

"You can't be serious. We've come so far from the fighting. People are rebuilding their lives. If we invade Wara, we may provoke other nations—our allies."

"You speak of peace, Adrian. But do you not understand?"

"Father," I said softly but firmly. "The future is what matters, not the past. "

The king's face saddened. "Your mother ..." 

I stood up, unable to sit any longer under the weight of his words. "I know what the future holds, Father. And I will not be swayed by the ghosts of the past."

"I will protect this kingdom, Father. But I will not let it crumble under the weight of unnecessary conflict."

Voss, who had been sitting silently until now, seized the moment to speak.

"Your Majesty," he said, "This is the news we need to tell you. Wara has moved its troops to the border and is preparing to attack."