Solmar strode through the palace corridors with unusually heavy steps, the echo of his boots bouncing off the stone walls. In his hand, he held a communication device, speaking briefly with Zevros.
"So it seems I was right all along—they truly are enemies," he muttered, clutching a bottle in his other hand as he advanced toward the throne room. "Father can't see it, but he's far too soft to rule this kingdom."
Dropping the device, he continued down the hall without pause. "I'm sorry, Father… but your way of leading puts this land in danger."
Finally, he reached the entrance to the hall. "I must speak with my father. Let me in."
The guards, recognizing the prince, stepped aside and unlocked the door, giving him passage.
As the doors slowly opened, Solmar's gaze fell upon his father seated on the throne, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "Solmar? What's the meaning of this sudden intrusion?" the king asked, his voice steady but puzzled, as Solmar moved to stand directly before him..
Solmar wasted no time, stepping forward with unflinching resolve, tucking the bottle discreetly into his pocket. His eyes locked onto his father's with a steely determination.
"I've come to report what the Desert Fangs have uncovered," he began, his voice sharp and commanding. "The people we observed at the docks aren't ordinary travelers—they are pirates. Ruthless, calculating, and ambitious. Their intentions aren't small or petty; they seek nothing less than to seize control of our kingdom.
"They've grown bold, infiltrating our waters, testing our defenses, and assessing our weaknesses. If we don't act decisively, they'll continue to strengthen, recruiting more followers, spreading influence, and undermining our authority. This isn't just a threat to a few coastal towns—it's a threat to the stability of the crown itself.
"Father, we cannot afford leniency or hesitation. We must strike now, with precision and strength, before their plans come to fruition. If we delay, it won't just be our borders at risk—it will be the future of the kingdom, and everything we've built."
The king rubbed his chin, sinking into deep thought as he weighed the matter carefully. His gaze lingered on the floor for a moment before lifting to meet Solmar's steady stance before him.
"Your report carries weight," the king said at last, his voice calm but firm. "If the Desert Fangs have confirmed these outsiders to be a danger to our kingdom, then swift action is required. Tell me of their current status, Solmar."
Solmar inclined his head slightly, ready to comply. "According to Zevros' account, they encountered a peculiar woman—one they deemed a significant threat due to her extraordinary powers. Meanwhile, Rhyven was dispatched to investigate Iron Messa, in case more pirates had made their way there. Zevros succeeded in capturing two individuals: an unconscious man and an elder. The girl, however, managed to slip away, though Zevros insists he has measures in place to keep her contained."
More thoughts pressed into the king's mind, his brow furrowing. "She slipped away…? Strange. Regardless, once the Desert Fangs return with the captives, send them back into the dunes. And make sure Rhyven is contacted—his situation must be confirmed. If pirates have entrenched themselves within Iron Messa, reinforcements are to be sent at once. It is reckless to leave him investigating that town on his own."
Solmar straightened his posture and gave a curt nod before turning toward the doors. "If you would permit it, father, I wish to investigate Iron Messa personally. I must learn firsthand what these people seek." His back remained to the throne, concealing the faint, confident grin that stretched across his face—a grin heavy with intent, one the king could not see.
The king studied his son's form for a long moment, weighing his request. Finally, he let out a measured breath. "Very well, Solmar. I will entrust you with this task. Go to Iron Messa, but do not act in haste. Observe, learn, and return with truth. Our kingdom cannot afford careless steps in these times."
His tone softened just slightly. "I grant you this responsibility—do not squander it."
As Solmar strode away from the throne, the curve of his smile deepened, warping into something darker, edged with menace. It was a knowing grin, one that carried the weight of a private scheme. "Well done, Zevros. Seems you've proven yourself worth my investment." His words were nothing more than a murmur under his breath, accompanied by a quiet smirk just as he pushed open the grand doors. They swung wide, then crashed shut behind him with a sharp echo.
The guards stationed nearby exchanged uneasy glances, their hands tightening on their spears.
"Did you… see that?" one whispered.
"Aye," the other muttered, brows knitting. "He was smiling. Not just smiling—grinning. Like he knew something the rest of us didn't."
"That's not like him," the first replied, voice low, almost wary. "He's usually calm… collected. But that look—gave me chills."
The two guards fell silent for a moment, watching the closed doors as though they could still sense Solmar's presence lingering in the hall.
"Whatever's going on in his head," the second guard finally said, "I've got a feeling it's not going to end well."
Solmar's boots echoed heavily against the polished stone floors as he descended the long corridor, the murmurs of the guards fading behind him. His grin lingered, tugging wider as the shadows swallowed his back.
"Fools… every last one of them," he thought, slipping his hand into his pocket to brush against the cool glass of the bottle he'd hidden. "Father still thinks he can hold this kingdom together with mercy and deliberation. But mercy doesn't keep wolves from the gates—it invites them in."
His eyes gleamed with quiet satisfaction as he envisioned the chaos ahead. "Desert Fangs did their part, and Zevros delivered. A captured elder, an unconscious man, and a runaway girl… bait enough to stir the hornet's nest. The pirates won't sit still after that. They'll come crawling straight into our hands."
Solmar's pace slowed as he reached a corner, pressing a hand against the wall, his grin sharpening into something almost feral. "Once they arrive, father will see. He'll see that hesitation only breeds weakness. And when his hesitation costs us, when he falters, I'll be standing ready… to take what should have been mine all along."
He straightened, shoulders squaring with regal poise, but the glimmer in his eyes betrayed the storm beneath. "A new era is coming… and it won't be ruled by a softhearted king."
To be continued...