The moment the king entered, the air in the throne room grew thick with tension. His presence commanded absolute attention, and every conversation ceased. The noblemen straightened, their expressions tight with a mixture of fear and respect.
"Greetings to the Holy King!" they chanted in unison, their voices strained with deference.
The king barely acknowledged their greeting, his cold, golden eyes scanning the room before landing on Marquis Thornhowl. "Tell me about the breach, Marquis," the king commanded, his voice stern and sharp enough to make her flinch, instinctively lowering her head.
Marquis Thornhowl straightened, trying to compose himself. "Your Majesty, we seized the intruders before they could reach the main territory. Everything is under control now, and they've been executed."
"And who were these intruders?" the king asked, his voice calm but laced with underlying menace.
"Just some human mercenaries," Thornhowl replied with a dismissive wave. "Nothing to worry about."
The king's lips curled slightly, though his eyes remained hard. "Human mercenaries?" His tone was mild, but there was a dangerous edge to it. "How audacious, I'd say. Where was the breach?"
Thornhowl hesitated, a flicker of nervousness crossing his face. "It… it was near the former Grand Duke's abandoned manor. It seems to have been attracting rogue mercenaries looking for loot."
"And how did they manage to breach my territory?" the king asked, his tone carrying a chilling undercurrent of malice.
"That is… still under investigation, Your Majesty," Thornhowl stammered, his calm demeanour beginning to crack.
The room fell into a tense silence, the kind that made the air feel thick, heavy. She barely dared to breathe as the king, his voice soft but dripping with venomous mockery, broke the quiet. "It seems that since my ascension, Wolfstadt's impeccable security has been crumbling to the ground." His golden eyes glinted coldly. "And now, we've been breached by nothing more than lowly human mercenaries. Tell me, Marquis—do you have anything to say about that?"
Marquis Thornhowl visibly paled, his face ashen as he dropped his head low, clearly aware that no explanation would save him from the king's wrath. "Nothing, Your Majesty. I am deeply ashamed. I will gladly accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate."
"Execution," the king said simply, his voice emotionless.
Thornhowl's head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock. "P-Pardon, Your Majesty?" His voice shook with disbelief, the arrogance he had once carried gone in an instant.
"You said you would accept your punishment," the king repeated, his tone as cold as the golden eyes that stared Thornhowl down. "Your punishment is execution."
"Y-Your Majesty, please, I beg for mercy," Thornhowl cried, collapsing to his knees in desperation. His pride, once so evident, had crumbled as quickly as his composure. "Please reconsider…"