The wind howled through the barren land, swirling the dry, cracked sand like some ancient beast prowling the earth. The air was thick with dust, and the horizon seemed to blur in the distance, swallowed by the grayish haze. The dark tower before them rose like a grim sentinel against the barren backdrop, its silhouette sharp against the dimming sky.
Darius helped Elara dismount, his steady hands guiding her down from the horse, but she quickly reached out for her rabbit. Gusty squirmed slightly in her grasp, his soft fur brushing against her palms as they hurried toward the safety of the tower's doors, seeking shelter from the relentless wind. Once inside, the air was still, a welcome change from the outside world's fury. The tall stone walls seemed to embrace them, muffling the sound of the wind as they entered a large, dimly lit room.
Lord Barret stood at the far end, his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for them with a warm but businesslike smile. He moved forward to shake Darius's hand, exchanging greetings and formal pleasantries as he filled him in on the matters at hand. Meanwhile, Lord Daniel, clearly inebriated, leaned heavily against the wall, his bleary eyes not on Darius or Elara, but on the rabbit nestled in the Queen's arms. He was mesmerized by the sight of the tiny creature, his eyes glazed with a strange mixture of wonder and drunken fascination.
Nancy, ever attentive, stepped forward with a polite curtsy. "Your Majesty, would you like me to prepare a bath for you?" she asked, her voice soft and respectful.
But Elara shook her head, her gaze flickering over the room. "No. I would like to meet everyone here and perhaps..." She glanced toward Darius and Volkov, her words trailing off. "Get to know what's going on."
Nancy nodded, taking Gusty from her arms and moving toward a side door to take him to safety. The group moved down a narrow corridor, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls as they made their way to a private chamber.
Elara walked quietly, her eyes fixed on Gusty, who was now nestled in Nancy's hands. She couldn't help but wonder if she would lose him the same way she'd lost Maximus and so many others. She'd never fully recovered from those losses. She could still remember the feeling of helplessness, of never being able to protect them as she'd wanted. But this time, with Gusty, she would do everything in her power to keep him safe.
Darius, walking beside her, never asked why she'd named the rabbit Gusty, though she suspected he understood the significance of the name. Gusty, like the wind. The rabbit seemed to like the breeze, its soft fur tousled by the air, or perhaps it just liked the freedom the wind represented.
"No. I'm coming too." Elara heard Given's voice, and soon enough, he was at her side. Leroy must have been against it, but Given was just as protective of her as she was of him.
As they entered the private chamber, Elara made her way to the head of the long wooden table, where the others had already gathered. Lord Barret and Lord Henry had taken seats, and there, at the far end of the room, sat Lord Edward. He didn't look well, his face gaunt and drawn, his eyes hollow with grief.
Elara's gaze shifted to Darius, silently asking him what had happened. But it was Lord Henry who answered first, his voice loud and somewhat slurred.
"He lost his family."
"His wife," Sebastian, Lord Edward's son, added quietly, his eyes red-rimmed from the grief he was trying to hide. He bowed deeply to Elara, who nodded in return, her heart heavy with sympathy.
Lord Edward's voice suddenly rang out, sharp and anguished, breaking the heavy silence that had settled in the room.
"NO!" He surged forward with alarming speed, his eyes wild with pain, but before Elara could react, Volkov stepped in front of her, a silent wall of protection.
But it was Darius who was faster. In the blink of an eye, his hand shot out and wrapped around Lord Edward's throat, his grip tight and unyielding.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't snap your neck," Darius growled, his voice low and filled with deadly fury. His eyes were red with the same anger that churned in his veins, his entire body radiating menace.
"Lord Darius." Volkov's voice broke through the tension, but it was no use. Darius's fury was uncontainable.
"I am not a Lord," Darius spat, his tone dripping with venom as he tightened his hold on the grieving man.
Elara stood frozen, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene before her. How could she survive in this world, surrounded by people capable of such violence, such raw power?
A hand on her shoulder pulled her back to reality, and she turned to find Given beside her, his expression unreadable. He must have seen the tremor in her hands as she subconsciously clenched them into fists. Tiny particles of silver, white, and blue flickered in the air above her hands—an eerie, new power stirring within her.
"Calm down, Your Majesty," Given's voice was a quiet whisper, his eyes locked on her hands.
Elara glanced down, her pulse quickening as she realized that what was coursing through her body felt...dangerous. The shimmering light above her hands seemed to pulse with a life of its own, and she knew that if she didn't leave soon, something unpredictable might happen.
Without warning, she stood, her chair scraping harshly against the stone floor. "Excuse me," she muttered, her voice trembling, and before anyone could stop her, she turned and fled the room.