Royal Palace — Garden of IrasVal
Helvos sank into the garden chair, the quiet creak of old wood echoing faintly beneath him.
For a moment—
The King of Gab did not look like a ruler.
He looked like a man.
Old.
Tired.
Carrying more years than his body was willing to admit.
The garden stretched around him in careful perfection—trimmed hedges, white gravel paths, fountains murmuring softly under the late sun. It was a place designed for peace.
It had never truly known it.
"Are you alright, Father?" Lucien asked, standing a respectful distance away.
Helvos did not open his eyes.
"I am taking my last rest," he murmured.
A pause.
"Before the fiasco begins."
Lucien did not respond.
Because there was nothing to say to that.
Footsteps approached.
Measured.
Familiar.
"Where is Adrean?" Helvos asked.
"Already moving," Lucien replied. "He seems determined to deliver results."
Helvos let out a faint breath that might have been a laugh.
"Of course he is."
Another set of footsteps entered the garden.
"You don't look well."
Solar's voice—dry, blunt, unyielding.
He took a seat without ceremony.
Sous followed behind him, silent as ever, stopping just short of the stone path.
Helvos snorted.
"Same to you, bastard."
Solar didn't react.
He rarely did.
Helvos straightened slightly, the brief illusion of weakness vanishing behind something harder.
"I am near the end of the road," he said.
"If I can finish this…"
A pause.
"…it will be enough."
"You always take on more than you should," Solar said.
"Even when it kills you."
Helvos chuckled faintly.
"And you're any better?" he shot back.
A glint of something darker crossed his eyes.
"How many of our own family did we butcher before settling down?"
The air shifted.
Just slightly.
Sous did not move.
Lucien's expression did not change.
Solar answered without hesitation.
"More than twenty."
A pause.
"And you married a woman right after killing her husband mid-ceremony."
"She asked," Helvos replied flatly.
Silence.
Then—
"…Enough history."
Helvos's gaze shifted.
Settling on Sous.
"You heard the council."
Sous stepped forward.
Not boldly.
Not timidly.
Just enough.
"Yes."
"How do you intend to end this?"
The question was simple.
The answer—
Would not be.
Sous exhaled slowly.
"If we strike the army—we lose men."
"If we fortify—we lose time."
A pause.
"So I will do neither."
Lucien's eyes sharpened.
Interest.
Immediate.
Genuine.
"I will force him into the open."
Helvos leaned forward slightly.
Age forgotten.
Only the King remained.
"How?"
"Talon does not respond to threats," Sous said.
"He responds to control."
Lucien's smile returned.
Small.
Sharp.
"So I will take something from him," Sous continued,
"that he cannot afford to lose."
Helvos tapped the armrest once.
"What?"
Sous did not hesitate.
"His certainty."
The words lingered.
Heavy.
Lucien exhaled softly.
"…Interesting."
Solar narrowed his eyes.
"That's half a plan."
"I have to begin somewhere," Sous replied.
Helvos studied him.
Long.
Carefully.
Then—
A faint smile touched the old king's lips.
"Good."
He leaned back again.
This time—
More like a man than a ruler.
"Because if you had given me a complete answer—"
His gaze sharpened.
"—I would have known you were lying."
A pause.
The wind stirred faintly through the hedges.
"War is not won by strength alone," Helvos said quietly.
"It is won by breaking what the enemy believes cannot be broken."
He opened his eyes fully now.
Clear.
Focused.
"Find that."
A pause.
"And you will find your victory."
Sous bowed.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Lucien tilted his head slightly.
"So… how do you plan to do that?"
Sous did not look away.
"I have someone in mind."
A pause.
"But first—"
His voice hardened.
"—we must deal with our own people."
Lucien's smile deepened.
Because that—
That was where wars truly began.
Gave City — Flister Restaurant
The contrast could not have been sharper.
Where the palace was quiet—
This place lived.
Low conversation filled the air. The scent of brewed tea and roasted spices lingered warmly. Candlelight flickered across polished wood tables.
Controlled comfort.
Calculated privacy.
"This is a fine establishment," Adrean said, removing his coat.
"One of my subsidiaries," Auray Frankfort replied.
No pride.
Just fact.
"Wine?"
"No."
"Tea?"
"Yes."
Auray poured without looking.
The liquid streamed smoothly into the cup, not a drop misplaced.
"You seem displeased."
Adrean didn't answer immediately.
He watched the surface of the tea ripple.
Then settle.
"The council is considering cornering Talon."
Auray's hand paused.
Only slightly.
Then continued.
"Ambitious," he said.
Adrean exhaled quietly.
"What do you think?"
Auray leaned back.
Fingers interlocked.
Eyes half-lidded.
"I met him once," he said.
A pause.
"On the battlefield."
The room seemed to quiet further.
"It took half of what we had… just to escape."
Adrean's gaze sharpened.
"The cost will be high."
Auray smiled faintly.
"It will."
A pause.
"They simply believe it is worth paying."
Adrean's fingers tightened slightly around the cup.
"And you?"
Auray's eyes shifted.
Subtle.
Precise.
"I believe cost is irrelevant," he said,
"when facing an enemy we have already failed to kill."
A beat.
"But you…"
His gaze lingered.
"…are thinking differently."
Adrean set the cup down.
"I want to," he admitted.
A pause.
"But it was my mistake that cost us two hundred and forty thousand men."
No tremor.
No hesitation.
Just fact.
"I will make up for that."
Auray studied him.
Not as a prince.
But as a variable.
"That is a heavy burden."
Silence.
Then—
"Guilt," Auray said softly,
"is useful."
Adrean frowned.
"How?"
"It sharpens the mind," Auray replied.
"Forces focus."
"Creates resolve."
A pause.
"But resolve alone is not enough."
Adrean leaned forward.
"What is?"
Auray's gaze drifted to the window.
To the world beyond.
"To understand your enemy… better than he understands himself."
"And you understand Talon?"
Auray gave a dry chuckle.
"Not fully."
A pause.
"But enough."
His voice lowered slightly.
"He does not fight for land."
"Nor power."
"Nor resources."
Auray's eyes darkened.
"There is something… personal."
Adrean frowned.
"Personal?"
Auray nodded slowly.
"He hates us."
A pause.
"But not blindly."
"He knows it well enough to use it."
Adrean leaned back.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Then—
"The answer is simple."
A pause.
"We make him lose control."
Auray shook his head faintly.
"If it were simple, he would already be dead."
A pause.
"But Sous's idea…"
His lips curved slightly.
"To shake his certainty…"
"…might work."
Adrean stood.
Decision made.
"Then we make sure it does."
Auray raised a brow.
"I thought you were observing."
Adrean's voice hardened.
"That has changed."
A pause.
"I will join Sous."
Auray smiled.
This time—
Genuinely.
"I expected nothing less."
Then his voice dropped.
Soft.
Grave.
"Let us hope his plan is worthy of your resolve."
A pause.
"Because if he fails…"
His eyes met Adrean's.
"…the cost will not be two hundred thousand."
A whisper.
"It will be everything."
Far away—
Plans were forming.
Not just to fight—
But to break.
And somewhere—
Between a king's warning,
A prince's guilt,
And a swordsman's resolve—
The shape of the coming war began to take form.
Not as a battle.
But as a reckoning.