"Her Royal Highness, Queen Isola, is here," the guard announced.
King Maeric looked up, a brow lifting in mild surprise. He hadn't expected her visit__certainly not now, and most certainly not in his condition.
"Lead her to the Sapphire Hall," he said after a pause, his tone steady despite the weakness in his voice. "I shall be there shortly."
"Yes, my king." The guard bowed and departed swiftly.
At once, the king pushed himself upright with the aid of those around him.
"Urrgh…" he groaned under his breath, his hand pressing against his chest as pain spread through the wound.
"Careful," Father Amos murmured, moving to his side while Brother fetched a fresh tunic and helped him into it, carefully covering the stained bandages beneath.
---
King Maeric walked through the corridor with Father Martin and Father Amos by his side. His lips were pale, his eyes dulled by exhaustion, his steps unsteady—yet he held his head high. Each servant and guard bowed as he passed, whispering quiet blessings under their breath. Though frail in flesh, he carried himself with the dignity of a true ruler.
When they reached the doors of the Sapphire Hall, Maeric paused, He took a moment to take a deep breath composing himself.
Queen Isola was not a woman easily deceived. Between them lay years of uneasy alliances, a relationship bound by duty and rivalry rather than trust. They did not despise one another, yet neither could stand too close without remembering old wounds.
"Queen Isola," he announced as he entered.
The Queen rose gracefully from her seat, with a practiced smile softening her face. "Your Majesty, King Maeric," she greeted, inclining her head before turning her attention to his companions. "Father Martin," she said with a polite bow, then to the other, "Father Amos."
They exchanged the pleasantries.
Once they were seated across from each other, King Maeric spoke first.
"I heard of your difficult journey with Princess Berevreth," he began. "It must have been no small trial to endure."
Queen Isola's smile lingered faintly. "I would not call it a trial, Your Majesty," she replied. "I have faced far greater storms in my time. My concern was only for my grand daughter, who has never known such hardship before." Her expression softened as she added with pride, "But she proved herself far braver than I had imagine, resolute, clever, and far too stubborn for her own good."
The king's lips curved faintly at that, inclining his head approvingly.
"And your kingdom," Isola continued, her eyes scanning the room. The cracks along the marble, the faded banners, the weary guards__signs of battle were everywhere. "I see it has not been spared either." she said
"We endure," the king replied solemnly. "By the grace of the Almighty."
The priests nodded in agreement, bowing their heads to the word.
"I had assumed you would head straight to the Cathedral," Father Martin remarked.
"Now is no time for rest," she said, then looked to the king. "We must act, Maeric. Before this darkness spreads beyond control, before things grow worse, and they become impossible to mend."
"Action is already being taken," the king answered, his voice steady despite the pain burning in his chest. "We've sent men to find the missing princess. The princess, Elowen, prepares at the Cathedral for the Rite of dawn. Once the princess is found, the rites will begin, and the demons will be cast out from our land."
"This is not the work of demons, King Maeric," she said sharply, her tone rising. "These are men, flesh and blood, men with blades and no banners, taking what is ours." Her hand curled slightly over the armrest, her composure shaken.
"I know," Maeric said quietly. "I am aware they are merchants from the North. But their courage to strike cannot come from mortal pride alone. No man wages war against three great kingdoms at once unless he is driven by darker hands. We must destroy the demons' root first, then the men will fall easily. That is why we have the find the princess" He explained
Isola leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she said softly, "And what if this search for the princess is all for nothing?"
He turned to her sharply, already sensing the direction of her words.
She continued,
"What if the princess is dead already__"
The king's fist struck the surface of the table, silencing her words in a heavy thud.
But Queen Isola's fury did not stop there, she continued anyway, "We have searched for days, Maeric! The moment I heard she was missing, I sent my own men to aid yours and do you know what they returned to me as?" Her eyes burned in anger as she speak. "Corpses. Torn apart in the valley." she said
"We cannot conclude such for the princess yet, your Grace," Father Martin interjected, trying to ease the storm.
"Then what would you have us do?" she pressed. "Sit quietly while our enemies feast on our lands? That we chase a ghost in the woods while our cities burn, Is there nothing more we can do while we search?"
King Maeric leaned back, his voice low and strained. "Other things, you say? What would you have us do,Queen Isola? If not take time to recovery, regain strength, before striking again?"
She drew a slow breath, composing herself before speaking. "Then lend me your army," she said, her tone clear and commanding. "Let me lead them to reclaim our lands. Once we conquer the invaders, we can join forces, hunt those northern devils to their robots, and recover the princess."
"Why are you so certain they have her?" the king asked.
"Because it is obvious, Maeric," she said. "She has been taken by the attackers, No other explanation fits better." she added.
He was silent for a moment, thoughtful. "I once believed so too," he admitted. "That is why I sent spies into your borders, they are to confirm whether the princess is held there. Meanwhile, I have already dispatched men to track the merchants' stronghold. Until we have word from either side, we must wait patiently for the outcome."
"And if your spies find her?" she asked, her voice calm again.
"Then," the king said slowly, "we shall do the rest your way."
A quiet exhale left her lips, a small, confident smile on her face as she said, "Then I shall take my leave now," she said, rising gracefully.
The king nodded and motioned to a nearby maid. "See to it that the Queen is given chambers befitting her station," he ordered. "Attend to her every need, and ensure her escort is well accommodated."
The maid bowed and approached, gesturing for the queen to follow. But before leaving, Isola turned once more toward the king.
Before following, Queen Isola turned once more to the king. Her sharp eyes caught the stiffness of his posture, the way his hand subtly pressed against his chest, the paleness in his face. There was pain behind his tough poise. He shifted slightly under her eyes, looking away as though hoping she had not noticed.
A faint smile touched her lips. "You look as though you need rest more than I do, King Maeric," she said softly "I doubt you allow your self the mercy" she added
He forced a faint smile. "I shall keep that in mind."
She bowed slightly and turned to leave. Her gaze flicked briefly to Father Amos, who sat quietly nearby, as her eyes caught the black fluid on his hand. Noticing where her eyes was going, he quickly drew his sleeve over it and smiled. She returned the gesture, but her eyes lingered with suspicion before she finally left.
The moment the doors shut behind her, King Maeric's strength gave way. He slumped forward onto the table, his breath ragged. The priests rushed to his side, holding him upright as his chest heaved and the dim light trembled across his crown.