The light outside waned, the last traces of sunset bleeding across the sky in soft, bleeding hues of orange and pink, as if the heavens themselves were preparing for the coming storm. Inside her chamber, Seraphina sat at her desk, the weight of the crown still heavy on her mind, though it no longer rested upon her brow. Scrolls and reports lay scattered before her, yet her gaze drifted far beyond the mundane details of court politics, as though she could see the unseen, hear the whispers that echoed in the dark.
The room felt unnaturally still, the silence broken only by the faint rustling of parchment beneath her fingertips. Outside the window, the city of Arundelle stretched, its silhouette sharp against the dying light—its walls were strong, but its people, ignorant of the shadows creeping ever closer, would remain unaware of the storm gathering on the horizon.
A soft knock at the door sliced through the quiet.
"Come in," Seraphina called, her voice as steady as the still air around her.
The door creaked open, and Marielle, her trusted advisor and closest confidant, stepped inside. Her expression was grim, her eyes haunted with the urgency of the news she bore. She closed the door behind her, sealing them in a space where only the harsh truths of the kingdom were allowed to exist.
"Your Highness," Marielle began, her voice tinged with an edge of unease, "the scouts have returned. The reports confirm it—they have crossed the eastern border. Raiders. They are heading straight for our trade routes. Worse, there are rumors that they may be planning a much larger assault on the city itself."
Seraphina's gaze hardened as she pushed aside the scrolls, her mind snapping to attention. "How many are we dealing with? What do we know about them?"
Marielle paused for a moment, the weight of her words pressing down between them. "The raiders are not mere brigands, Your Highness. They are organized, moving in groups of well-trained mercenaries. There are whispers of a leader, someone with military experience. It's clear—they've come not just to plunder, but to destabilize Arundelle."
A sharp breath escaped Seraphina's lips, and her eyes narrowed. "And the border outposts? Are they secure?"
"For now," Marielle answered, her voice steady but heavy with the knowledge that their defenses would not hold long. "But they are already looting the outer villages, and the caravans are vulnerable. If we do not act swiftly, the trade routes will be severed, and our supplies will run dry in days."
A grim silence filled the room, thick with the weight of the decision that loomed. Seraphina's fingers gripped the edge of her desk, her knuckles whitening, the tension in her body palpable. She did not want war—not yet, not on the heels of so many struggles. But the survival of her kingdom depended on swift, decisive action.
"We cannot let them advance any further," Seraphina declared, her voice a razor-sharp edge of command. "Send word to Lord Hadrian. I want the full mobilization of the eastern forces. But I'll need something more than brute force. I want a team of elite scouts—silent, swift, and unseen. Find out who stands behind this. If these are mercenaries, someone is funding them, and I need to know why Arundelle has become their target."
Marielle's gaze never wavered as she nodded solemnly. "I will arrange it at once, Your Highness."
Seraphina rose from her seat, moving to the window with quiet purpose, her eyes tracing the horizon where the last vestiges of daylight were swallowed by the encroaching night. "I want answers, Marielle. And I want them soon. This is no mere raid—it is a warning."
Marielle inclined her head, her expression unreadable but her resolve unwavering. "Understood, Your Highness."
Seraphina cast one last lingering glance over the city below, the streets now bathed in the growing shadow of night. The kingdom appeared serene from here, untouched by the forces that conspired against it. But deep within her heart, Seraphina knew the truth. A storm was coming, and she had no choice but to face it.
"And make sure our defenses are ready," she said, her voice low, a thread of steel woven through it. "If this escalates into war, we must be prepared for whatever may come."
With a final nod, Marielle exited the room, leaving Seraphina alone in the dimming light, her thoughts churning in the silence. The city, her people, her kingdom—none of it would remain untouched.
Soon, the whispers would become roars. And she would be ready.