Days passed, and the kingdom had been at peace for now, while the council had been imposing the betrothal yet again on the king. In a secluded chamber deep within the castle, King Alaric sat at a heavy oak table, maps and scrolls spread before him. Around him, his councilors leaned in, voices low but urgent.
"The witch had attacked our princess two days back and need I remind you, your majesty that the kingdom itself is at stake," one councilor said. "A marriage alliance with House Veylor is our only safeguard."
King Alaric's fingers drummed against the table. "I am aware of the potential gain, but I wonder… can politics truly protect us in the coming battle? Or will we only learn the cost too late?"
Kael, standing slightly apart, chose his words carefully. "Sire, I understand the importance of caution, but… this plan—entangling Seraphina in alliances—may do more harm than good. She is capable of confronting these threats herself. Perhaps it would be wiser to let her act without burdening her with schemes she does not yet comprehend."
The councilors exchanged uneasy glances. "But Kael, with all due respect, leaving her to face the witch and the sorcerer alone is reckless," another said. "We must control the variables. A strong alliance could tip the scales in our favor."
Kael's gaze met the king's. "I am not suggesting inaction, Sire. Only that we weigh the risks carefully. Forcing Seraphina into this plan may invite disaster, no matter how well-intentioned we are."
Alaric exhaled slowly, the weight of leadership pressing upon him. "Perhaps… I have been too eager to control the outcome. You may be right, Kael. The princess's path may indeed be her own to walk. Yet we cannot ignore the threat entirely. Every choice must serve the kingdom's survival."
Far from the plotting chamber, the palace gardens were quiet under the soft glow of the moon. Seraphina lingered near the hedges, hidden in shadow, her mind racing with possibilities and plans. She had no idea that inside, the king and his council were already discussing her betrothal. For now, her thoughts belonged to strategy, to survival, and to Lorin.
Lorin appeared, leaning against the stone wall with a tired but fond smile. "You've been quiet," he said.
"I'm thinking," Seraphina replied, her eyes glinting. "About everything that happened. About what's coming. About… us."
He chuckled softly. "Then let me remind you—before the world decides to explode again—I promised you a tour. My village. You wanted to see where I grew up, didn't you?"
Her lips curved, a small smile breaking through her scheming expression. "You remembered."
"I always remember," he said. "Come on. Let's not wait until the next catastrophe. You go freshen up; I'll wait here."
"I need to inform my father, he must know about the tour I will tell him now" Seraphina said with a spark of excitement lighting her eyes.
---
Seraphina hurried into the castle, closing the door behind her with a sharp click. Her heart raced as she turned to the nearest guard. "Where is my father?" she demanded, her voice edged with urgency. "I need to speak with him—now!"
The guard hesitated, bowing slightly. "The king is in a council meeting, Princess. It… it may take some time."
"No," she said firmly, stepping closer, her eyes blazing. "It can't wait. I must inform him about… about Lorin's village. He needs to know I'm going. Please, tell me where he is!"
The guard swallowed nervously. "He… he is in the chamber beyond the east wing. But Princess, the council—"
"I don't care about the council!" she snapped, cutting him off. "This is important. Now show me!"
The guard nodded quickly, clearly sensing the seriousness in her tone, and led her through the dimly lit corridors toward the east wing. Seraphina's mind raced with thoughts of Lorin, the village, and the dangers that might await them. Every step brought her closer to her father, and she could only hope he would understand.
As they approached the chamber, muffled voices reached her ears—the unmistakable tones of the council still deep in discussion. Seraphina paused, taking a deep breath. She could wait for a brief moment if it meant getting her father's attention. Her plans, her journey—they depended on it.