In this moment in the Drayton empire
The halls of Drayton Palace were eerily quiet, the usual murmur of servants and guards quieted by the news. The king sat on his throne, his features sharp and a deep frown set in them.
Deep lines were etched into his forehead and around his mouth, the marks of a man who had witnessed victory and betrayal countless times. His cold, piercing blue eyes held an icy intensity, capable of silencing anyone who dared to challenge him. His expression was nothing but anger.
"How did this happen?" his voice boomed through the room, sharp enough to make the guards at the doors tremble. "My daughter, taken under our eyes! And now you're telling me that we don't know who did this?
The minister, his closest confidant, stepped forward, his face calm but his tone tense. "Your Majesty, we've sent scouts in all directions. It's only a matter of time before we know who did it."
The king slammed his fist on the arm of his throne. "Time? Do you think we have time? The Ingocian Empire is watching our every move. We cannot afford mistakes."
At the mention of Ingocia, murmurs stirred in the room. Near the shadows on the edge of the room stood a group of hooded figures. Their faces were hidden, but their presence was felt terrifying, silent reminder of the power they held. They did not speak, they did not move, but their stillness spoke volumes.
The king's gaze flickered to his son, who stood beside the minister, his arms crossed. The prince, with his tall, athletic build and sharp features, had an aura of quiet authority. His dark hair was tied back, and his piercing eyes like polished obsidian seemed to hold concentration and quiet menace. He did not speak immediately, his posture giving the impression of someone weighing each word carefully.
"The safety of the princess is important," the prince finally said in a deep, steady voice, "but it is not as important as her meeting with Ingocia means to us. If her capture is delayed… it weakens us."
The king nodded slowly, his anger hardening into something colder. "She is a piece in a larger game. Losing her would be costly, not for sentiment but for strategy."
The minister stepped forward, his voice cautious. "We must also consider her intentions, Your Majesty. Maybe her kidnapping wasn't entirely forceful. There are… questions about her plans before this incident. Plans she did not share."
The king's eyes narrowed, suspicion gleaming in his gaze. "Do you think she knew?"
"Maybe," the minister replied carefully. "But it's unclear."
One of the hooded figures moved slightly, breaking their silence. The sound drew attention, and though their faces remained hidden, the power they radiated silenced the room. The figure spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "What matters now is action, not speculation. Find her. And if she is working against the Empire's interests, deal with her accordingly."
The king leaned back, his anger barely contained, his sharp eyes scanning the room. Silence filled the room, with only the faint crackling of torches. Outside, the wind howled over the empire's walls, carrying a sense of unease.
Near the foot of the throne, a young woman knelt, her hands shaking as she clutched her dress. Her soft brown hair was simply tied back, and her pale skin showed the lingering effects of illness. Her name was Elena, the princess's loyal servant, and her absence during the princess capture had not gone unnoticed.
"You were supposed to be by her side," the king said in a low but scathing voice. "But you were nowhere to be found."
Elena raised her eyes, hers filled with guilt and fear. "Your Majesty, I was ill, I couldn't stand..."
"Enough!" the king said sharply, his voice echoing through the hall. "Excuses won't bring her back. You failed in your duty, and I will never forget that."
Elena bowed her head, tears threatening to fall, but she said nothing.
Suddenly a soldier entered carrying a letter, bowed before the king and held it up. "Your majesty, a letter from the devotion empire."
The king turned his attention to his son, "Read it, son."
The prince stepped forward, his expression calm, he opened the message and started reading it.
Though there was a hint of frustration in his eyes. "They've proposed a trade between their captured soldiers for the princess. They claim they want to avoid unnecessary bloodshed."
A murmur rang through the room, but it was quickly silenced when one of the hooded figures spoke. Their voice was calm but threatening. "This is clearly a ruse. We must agree to their terms, lure them in, and then crush them. Let them know the price of crossing Drayton."
The prince's eyes narrowed. "We don't have time to set traps. Every moment we waste gives Ingocia a chance to know about that."
The king raised his hand, silencing everyone. He rose from his throne, his presence casting a shadow over the room. "You have made your point well," he said in a cold, deliberate tone. "But this is not about time or tactics, it is about strength. We are Drayton. We do not beg, nor do we negotiate with our enemies."
He then turned his cold gaze to the hooded figures. "Prepare your trap. Kill them all."
The prince hesitated for a moment, then nodded, his expression unreadable. "As you command, father."
The king's lips curved into a cruel smile. "I count on you, my son."
The decision was made, and the tension in the room grew. Elena, still kneeling, silently clenched her hands together, her heart heavy. She knew that the princess's capture was only the beginning of something much darker.
The meeting concluded, and the king dismissed everyone with a wave of his hand. Keven, the prince of Drayton, stepped forward as the others dispersed, his dark, piercing eyes falling on Elena.
"Elena," he said, his voice steady and cold, "come with me."
She looked up, her expression a mix of confusion and fear, but she didn't argue. Rising slowly, she followed him out of the grand chamber, the echo of their footsteps filling the silent corridors.
Keven led her to a small, dimly lit room tucked away in the far corner of the palace. The room was simple, with a table, a few chairs, and a large map spread out across the surface. Once inside, he closed the door behind them and turned to face her.
"You're going with us," he said bluntly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "When the trade happens, you'll take the princess to the safe zone. Maybe things are going to get messy, and I want her far away from there."
Elena's eyes widened in shock. "You're letting me go with you? After what your father said... I thought…"
Keven cut her off, his voice calm but firm. "My father blames you for what happened, but I don't. You're loyal to her, and she'll need someone she trusts when this is over."
Elena hesitated, her voice faltering. "But... what if it doesn't go as planned? What if they attack during the trade?"
Keven's gaze turned sharp, his tone unwavering. "I'm prepared for that. I will calculate every possible scenario, and I'll have troops hidden nearby. If they make a move, we'll be ready to strike. But my goal is to avoid a fight entirely. If we can trade without bloodshed, it'll be better for everyone."
Elena looked at him, her fear giving way to cautious hope. "You think you can stop them without a fight?"
Keven's expression didn't waver. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I'll do everything I can to make it happen. And if it doesn't... I'll protect her. No matter what."
Her voice trembled slightly. "You've never lost a fight, Keven. You can stop them by yourself."
Keven shook his head, his voice calm but resolute. "That's not the point. Winning isn't the solution here. Every fight leaves scars, and I don't want my sister to see more of that. She deserves better."
Elena's chest tightened at his words, understanding the weight of what he was asking her to do. "I'll do it," she said firmly. "I'll keep her safe."
Keven nodded, his gaze softening again. "I know you will. That's why I trust you with this."
He pushed himself off the table, straightening his posture. "The troops will be in position by tomorrow. The moment the trade happens, take her and leave. Don't wait for me. Just go."
Elena hesitated, her voice barely a whisper. "What about you?"
Keven gave a faint smile, though there was sadness behind it. "I'll handle the rest."
For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint crackle of the lanterns. Elena could see the weight he carried, the conflict between his loyalty to his family and his hope to stop the endless cycle of violence caused by his father.