Early morning sunlight filtered in through the window, casting a soft glow across the room. Agneyastra emerged from the bathroom, her chosen attire for the day leaving her feeling both confident and poised. With measured steps, she approached the neighboring door, her hand extending to knock gently against the surface before cautiously entering the room.
Inside, Ramil engaged in an intense workout, his well-defined muscles glistening with perspiration. Lost in the rhythm of his pushups, he failed to notice Agneyastra''s presence. Captivated by the physical manifestation of his training, Agneyastra observed him, silently acknowledging the dedication he had poured into building his impressive physique.
Breaking the silence, Agneyastra spoke, her voice carrying a sense of urgency, “Ramil, I must speak with you.”
Finishing his final pushup, Ramil rose to his feet, his gaze descending upon Agneyastra. His eyebrow arched inquisitively as he responded matter-of-factly, “Fine, what is it? I have to leave soon, but first, I need a shower.”
Curiosity etched across her features, Agneyastra probed further, “How come you told people not to talk to me during the educational training?”
Ramil held her gaze steadily, the glint of protectiveness shining in his eyes. “I was protecting you,” he explained.
Perplexed, Agneyastra couldn''t help but inquire, “Protecting me? From what?”
With a brief pause, Ramil sighed, his posture shifting slightly. “I must take a shower, and my father has forbidden me from being alone with girls in my bedroom,” he confessed. Offering a polite nod, he bid her farewell, “Have a good day.” And with that, he left the room, making his way to his own personal bathroom.
Agneyastra stormed out of Ramil''s bedroom, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and disappointment. Her mind raced with the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed her during their argument. Breathing heavily, she entered her room, her sanctuary from the outside world. With quick, purposeful movements, she filled her backpack with the tools of her trade - scrolls, quills, and a small vial of glittering unicorn dust.
Exiting her room, Agneyastra was greeted by Sinai. His wise eyes seemed to understand the turmoil that raged within her. Agneyastra approached Sinai, “Come on, Sinai,” she murmured softly, her voice filled with determination. “Let''s head to training.” Together, they embarked on the familiar path that led to the towering educational training building.
As the sun''s rays filtered through the tall windows, casting vibrant hues of crimson and gold upon the classroom, Agneyastra found herself lost in a sea of papers. The wooden desk, worn by the countless hours of study, stood as a silent companion in the corner of the room, its surface scattered with a multitude of assignments waiting to be graded.
In the midst of this organized chaos, Agneyastra sat, her brows furrowed in deep contemplation. As she meticulously marked the papers with her quill. Suddenly, Aurgelmir appeared beside her. His presence was commanding, yet gentle, as he approached with concern etched upon his face. His eyes, aged with wisdom, were fixed upon Agneyastra''s troubled countenance.
“You seem distressed, my young apprentice,” Aurgelmir spoke, his voice a soothing melody amidst the bustling of the classroom. “What troubles your mind on this day?”
Agneyastra sighed, her gaze dropping pensively. “Ramil,” she said softly. “He scared away others from talking to me, isolating me in my solitude.”
Aurgelmir nodded knowingly. “Fear of losing you, perhaps,” he mused. “Jealousy has a way of clouding one''s judgment.”
Agneyastra''s lips curled into a melancholic smile. “I have no intention of leaving,” she assured, her voice filled with determination.
Aurgelmir''s gentle eyes bore into hers, his voice laced with a hint of urgency. “Have you considered what I told you?” he asked, his tone tinged with a mixture of hope and concern.
Agneyastra''s brows furrowed further, betraying the inner turmoil within her. “Joining the warriors... that is Ramil''s path,” she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Aurgelmir leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “But you, Agneyastra, possess a rare gift. Your skills in battle are unmatched, and our world is in dire need of warriors like you.”
Agneyastra looked around the familiar halls of the academy, a mixture of anticipation and resignation in her eyes. “I still have one more year left here,” she murmured.
Time seemed to stand still as Agneyastra resumed her task, grading papers with renewed focus. The melodic chime of the bell echoed through the halls, signaling the end of class and summoning students to take their places.
As Aurgelmir guided the students through a series of intricate hand-to-hand combat moves, Agneyastra''s skilled presence by his side lent an air of grace and precision to their training session. Sweat glistened on their foreheads as they executed each move with calculated accuracy, their bodies fluid and in perfect sync.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, signaling the end of the intense training, Agneyastra positioned herself outside the training building, waiting patiently for Sinai. The towering structure loomed above, its stone facade bearing witness to countless hours of dedication and sacrifice.
Sinai emerged from the grand entrance, a subtle smile playing on their lips. They stood beside Agneyastra, the weight of their shared experiences evident in their tired but determined expressions.
“Do you want to stop at the Dweller Warrior training building to walk home with Ramil?” Sinai asked, their voice filled with a touch of anticipation.
Agneyastra paused for a moment, contemplating the offer. “Maybe tomorrow,” she uttered, her voice carrying a hint of longing for a different kind of closeness. “Let''s head home.”
With that, they began their walk, their weary bodies weaving through the intricate streets to their home. Agneyastra and Sinai traversed the path that led them to the grand front door, an entrance befitting the magnificent estate that stood before them. As they entered, their presence caught the attention of Tyson, who was engaged in a conversation with Marudeva. Sensing their arrival, Agneyastra greeted them with a courteous “Good afternoon.”
Tyson swiftly turned towards Agneyastra and spoke with a sense of urgency in his voice, “Agneyastra, Ramil has sent me a message regarding something important.”
Agneyastra, frustration evident on her face, retorted, “I have grown weary of Ramil''s attempts to control my life. I care not for whatever he has told you about me.”
Marudeva, sensing the tension in the air, took a step forward and produced a crumpled piece of paper, bearing Agneyastra''s unmistakable handwriting. With a concerned look, Marudeva inquired, “Are you communicating with this Jeremy?”
Agneyastra''s eyes met the paper, and she pointed at it in disbelief. Her voice laden with confusion, she questioned, “Why did you both pry into my private space and invade my room without permission?”
Tyson tried to explain, his worry evident in his voice, “We are genuinely concerned about you, Agneyastra. We only want what is best for you.”
Agneyastra, feeling the weight of their scrutiny, snatched the paper from Marudeva''s hand. Trying to put their fears to rest, she declared, “You need not worry. I lack the confidence to initiate any communication with Jeremy. These writings were merely my feeble attempts at practicing my words.”
With a heavy sigh, Agneyastra turned and began ascending the stairs, Tyson trailing behind her. Desperation creeping into his voice, Tyson pleaded, “You are not contemplating on courting this Jeremy, are you?”
Agneyastra reached the threshold of her room, her voice filled with exasperation and a tinge of embarrassment, “What? No, I implore you, please spare me the added humiliation. Just leave me be for the remainder of the day.” And with that, she slammed her door shut, seeking refuge within the confines of her private bedroom.
***
The midday sun streamed through the high windows of the Dweller Warrior Training building, casting long shadows on the sandy floor. In the center of the spacious arena, Ramil engaged in a spirited spar with one of his fellow recruits. Their swords clashed in a display of skill and determination, filling the air with the metallic ring of steel.
Ramil''s movements were swift and precise, his sword barely grazing his opponent''s in an intricate dance of blades. But as the recruit stumbled over her own feet, losing her balance, Ramil''s instincts kicked in. With a quick reflex, he swiftly extended his hand and helped her regain her footing.
A warm smile spread across her face as she tightened her grip around her sword. With a hint of admiration in her eyes, she turned to Ramil and requested, “Can you show me how to improve? Teach me how to control my footing.”
Ramil nodded and carefully placed his sword on a nearby table. As he lowered himself to her level, he instructed her to keep her feet straight and move counterclockwise. His voice was calm yet filled with the authority of someone who had mastered the art of swordsmanship. Rising slowly, he locked eyes with her and positioned himself behind her, guiding her every movement with gentle guidance.
Intrigued by the scene unfolding before her, another female recruit approached Ramil, her curiosity piqued. She watched as Ramil patiently taught her the proper technique for swinging a sword, his experienced hands gracefully maneuvering her through each motion. Impressed, she couldn''t help but be drawn to this display of skill and expertise.
Unable to contain her excitement, she softly interjected, “Can I be next? Will you teach me as well?”
Ramil''s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he turned towards the new recruit. With a reassuring smile, he replied, “Of course.”
Amidst the hustle and bustle of the training grounds, male recruits stood across from Ramil, their gazes filled with a mix of envy and disdain as he diligently assisted the female recruits.
“Can you believe he is carrying on like that?” one of the male recruits muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with a hint of resentment.
“He does more with them,” another recruit muttered, frustration evident in his tone. “Lucky, jerk.”
Behind them, a seasoned female Dweller warrior observed the exchange from a distance, her expression veiled in admiration. Slowly stepping forward, she positioned herself just within earshot, determined to set the record straight.
“Unlike you two,” she interjected, her voice resolute yet tinged with a touch of incredulity, “Ramil is here before anyone and is the last to leave. His commitment is unmatched. I can''t help but be excited to witness his prowess on the battlefield.”
Another new male recruit, eager to dissent, scoffed dismissively. “He is not that impressive. Just another overrated warrior.”
But before he could continue, the seasoned Dweller warrior''s voice rang out, her words cutting through the air like a clarion call of truth. “Ramil!” she bellowed with authority, beckoning him towards her.
Ramil jogged over to where a seasoned female Dweller warrior and other male recruits were gathered. With a mischievous grin, Ramil called out, “Well, if it isn''t the great Warrior Killa.”
Killa, a formidable warrior with a reputation that preceded her, pointed a finger towards the group of male recruits and said, “That one said you''re not that impressive.”
Ramil stood confidently, positioning himself beside the other male recruits, and waved jovially at a group of female recruits across the way. He shrugged and replied, “Well, Yun, it''s true that my fighting skills may not be as impressive as my others. But don''t worry, your sister Glenda can testify to my other skills. Killa, why don''t you join us too?”
Killa responded by giving Ramil a light push, enough to assert her strength, and then revealed her wedding band. With a note of finality in her voice, she said, “I am married.”
Ramil, undeterred by her words, leaned in closer to Killa, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. He retorted, “Like that has stopped others before.”Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
Disappointed, Killa shook her head in disbelief and walked away from Ramil, who stood there with a cocky smile. Yun, Glenda''s protective brother, stepped forward with a stern expression and warned Ramil, “Stay away from my sister.”
Unfazed by the threatening tone, Ramil took a few steps closer to Yun, his confidence radiating. With a hint of arrogance, he challenged Yun, “And how will you stop me?”
Yun, his grip firm on his gleaming sword, swings it with precision and force at Ramil. But Ramil, quick and agile, dodges Yun''s attack and swiftly retrieves his own sword from a nearby table, where Glenda watches attentively.
The clash of steel fills the air as Yun and Ramil engage in a dynamic sword fight, their bodies moving gracefully, dancing with deadly intent. The entire gathering of new recruits and seasoned trainers come to a standstill, their eyes fixated on the mesmerizing display of skill and power.
Locked in a ferocious struggle, Ramil gains the upper hand, pressing the blade of his sword flat against Yun''s chest. A wicked smile spreads across Ramil''s face as he taunts his opponent. “Is this all you''ve got? I wonder, Yun, what Glenda tastes like,” he sneers provocatively.
Yun''s expression contorts into a mixture of anger and disgust. Surging with rage, he pushes his own blade forward, forcing Ramil to stumble and fall to the ground. With a swift motion, Yun points the tip of his sword at Ramil''s throat, his eyes burning with determination.
Ramil, lying on the ground, looks up at Yun with a sense of begrudging admiration. “Well done,” he concedes, a hint of respect evident in his voice.
Saichi, standing behind Yun, applauds the display of skill and strategy. He acknowledges both Yun and Ramil, recognizing the tactic that successfully provoked Yun''s prowess. “Well done, Yun. And, Ramil, excellent job in eliciting such a reaction,” he praises.
Yun, recognizing the conclusion of their confrontation, lowers his sword and extends a hand to help Ramil up from the dusty ground. “Thank you,” Yun utters, his tone laced with genuine appreciation.
Glenda, watching the intense encounter unfold, approaches the two fighters. She claps her hands in admiration for her brother''s valor, a proud smile gracing her lips.
As Saichi stands beside Ramil, his eyes glint mischievously. “So, tell me, Ramil. What is your plan now for dealing with the rest of them?” he asks teasingly. Ramil''s laughter fills the air, a cunning glimmer in his eyes.
***
The midday sun cast a warm glow on the lush green forest of the Earth Kingdom. Moriko, with her long, flowing green hair, emerged gracefully from the ancient tree, her emerald eyes shimmering with a mix of excitement and relief. By her side were Lee and Jeremy.
“Finally, you''ve come, Lee,” Moriko said with a smile. “I''ve missed you.”
As they walked together, guided by Moriko, they passed through a hidden tunnel, its walls covered in vibrant moss and glowing mushrooms. The air filled with a sense of anticipation as they stepped out into Stone City.
The city stood before them, its once crumbling walls now repaired and restored to their former grandeur. The streets, however, remained quiet and devoid of life. Though the buildings stood tall and proud, it seemed as if they were mere ghosts of a bygone era.
Lee couldn''t help but marvel at the sight. The city''s cobblestone paths glistened under the midday sun, and intricate carvings adorned the fa?ades of the buildings. He felt a sense of awe and wonder at the immense power that had restored Stone City to its former glory. Yet, the emptiness that permeated the air reminded him that something was still amiss.
“Moriko,” Lee said, his voice filled with both awe and caution, “this place... it''s amazing. But why is it so empty?”
Moriko''s face clouded with a mix of sadness and determination. “The restoration was only the first step, Lee.”
As Tyson strolled through the streets of Stone City, its once dilapidated structures now fully restored, he caught sight of Moriko engaged in conversation with Jeremy and Lee. Intrigued, he made his way towards them, his steps purposeful. Closing the gap between them, Tyson extended his hand towards Jeremy in a friendly gesture. “Ah, so you''re Jeremy,” he greeted them with a warm smile. “You''ve certainly left quite an impression on my niece.”
Jeremy, pointing towards Moriko, returned the smile. “Moriko is an incredible friend,” he replied, his voice tinged with gratitude. “She has been a tremendous help to me, especially in the face of our shared losses.”
Tyson paused for a moment, his eyes softening. “Although Moriko may not be my niece by blood, she holds a special place in my heart. She is more like a daughter to me.”
Curious, Jeremy turned his attention to Tyson and inquired, “Then, who is your niece?”
In response, Yeongi playfully struck Tyson''s chest, her touch gentle yet deliberate. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she positioned herself between Jeremy and Tyson, a subtle barrier. Yeongi''s voice carried a note of caution as she spoke, “You know Agneyastra would not be pleased if you were to reveal such information.”
As the group entered the grand castle, their footsteps echoed through the vast halls. The air was cool and musty, carrying with it the whispers of forgotten stories and ancient secrets. Moriko led the way, her eyes scanning the surroundings with a mischievous glint.
With a knowing smile, Moriko pointed towards the library, a room filled with towering shelves lined with books of all shapes and sizes. The doors creaked open, revealing the treasures within. Jeremy, Lee, and Moriko stepped inside.
Seated at a desk, bathed in the soft glow of a candle, was Emathion. His eyes were fixed on a worn leather-bound tome, his sharp gaze filled with an air of seriousness. Upon noticing their entrance, his eyes briefly met theirs, his expression hardening momentarily.
“Nothing could ever be that funny,” he scoffed, his words laced with a touch of skepticism.
Moriko, undeterred, gently tugged on Emathion''s arm, coaxing him to join them in their respite. “Emathion, take a break and enjoy the rest of the day with us,” she urged, her voice carrying a gentle warmth.
Emathion paused for a moment, studying Moriko''s steadfast gaze. Finally, he relented. “Okay,” he murmured, extending his hand to Jeremy and Lee, acknowledging their presence.
Curiosity danced in Lee''s eyes as he bounced on his toes. “Let''s go back to Stone City,” he declared, his enthusiasm infectious.
A small smile curled on Emathion''s lips as he regarded Lee. “You have a lot of energy, just like my younger brother Sinai,” he remarked fondly, his voice tinged with memories of youth.
With each passing hour, the bond between Moriko, Emathion, Jeremy, and Lee grew stronger. Laughter filled the air as they shared stories, discoveries, and dreams. The sun cast long shadows as afternoon settled in, a gentle reminder of the passage of time. As the day drew to a close, Yeongi and Tyson appeared, their presence a reminder that departure was imminent. Reluctantly, they escorted Jeremy and Lee towards the tunnel.
As Emathion strode back towards the Earth Kingdom Castle, Moriko''s tender touch tugged at his hand, drawing his attention. Her voice, soft as a gentle breeze, carried the suggestion of a blissful moment awaiting them. “Let''s go watch the sunset on the castle roof,” she whispered.
Following Moriko''s lead, Emathion allowed himself to be guided through the regal halls of the Earth Kingdom Castle, their footfalls echoing harmoniously with the ancient stones. With every step, anticipation blossomed within their hearts, as if the promise of witnessing the majestic in the sky was a secret shared between just the two of them.
Finally, they arrived at the rooftop, where the last rays of sunlight painted the atmosphere with a tapestry of colors. Moriko nestled herself against Emathion, her head finding comfort on his strong shoulder. The peace that radiated from her rested serenely on his own weary soul.
Amidst the ethereal glow of twilight, Moriko''s whispered confession pierced the stillness. “I wish you could stay longer,” she murmured, her voice filled with longing.
Emathion''s answer was swift, filled with unwavering devotion. “If you want, I will never leave your side,” he declared.
But doubt and insecurities clouded Moriko''s eyes, threatening to eclipse the warmth of their bond. “I feel... I am not worth it,” she confessed, her voice threaded with vulnerability. “You should continue your relations with your other female companions.”
Emathion was taken aback by her words, the pain of her self-doubt etching lines of sorrow across his face. “What do you mean, feel?” he questioned, his voice filled with confusion. “You don''t feel me with others.”
Humbled by shame, Moriko stepped away, her gaze cast downward. “I try not to,” she admitted quietly, “but I can''t help but feel you getting intimate with others.”
A heavy silence descended upon them, laden with unspoken truths and shattered illusions. Emathion''s breath caught in his chest, a mix of regret and realization washing over him. “That is wrong,” he confessed, his voice trembling with contrition. “As if... I have forced myself on you. It''s wrong that images of you enter my mind when I am intimate with others. I should have realized it sooner, and for that, I am truly sorry. You have done nothing wrong, this is all on me.”
Stepping forward, Moriko closed the distance between them, a gentle touch of reassurance. “Stop thinking that way,” she whispered, her voice filled with compassion and understanding. “It''s okay. You''ll forever be my best friend.”
***
As the morning sunbathed the desert in its golden rays, a fierce and heated battle unfolded below. The air was thick with the sounds of clashing swords, the cries of warriors, and the symphony of different beings engaging in combat. The Dwellers, with their unwavering determination, fought alongside the Fire Kingdom Soldiers, Brucies, unleashed their strength on the Water Kingdom Solders.
In the midst of this relentless clash of forces, stood Evain, a figure cloaked in the armor of the Water Kingdom soldiers. Her helmet obscured her face, yet her eyes burned with a fiery resolve. Swinging her sword with unparalleled grace and precision, she cut through the ranks of her opponents with a deadly elegance. The glint of her blade, as it met steel and flesh, mirrored the determination in her heart. With every swing, with every strike, she painted the battlefield with the blood of her enemies.
Surrounded by adversaries on all sides, Evain moved with a fluidity that seemed almost ethereal. Her movements were not merely the product of training and skill, but of her connection to the very essence of her element. The air around her crackled with an energy that only a true warrior possessed, as if the power of the Water Kingdom flowed through her veins.
Evain swiftly points towards her comrade, a fellow soldier of the Water Kingdom, just as an adversary advances towards them. With urgency in her voice, she warns, “Watch out!” In a decisive motion, Evain lunges forward, expertly driving her weapon into the opponent''s chest.
As the hours dragged on, the sun began its descent, casting hues of orange and pink across the battlefield. Evain, blade in hand, fought with unwavering courage amidst the chaos. Sweat cascading down her brow, she valiantly pushed forward, her senses honed to the symphony of clashing steel and distant cries.
Yet, amidst the pandemonium, a flicker of movement caught Evain''s eye near the line of Palm Tree Forest. Without hesitation, she sprang towards the figure, a whirlwind of determination propelling her forward. Her heart quickened as she approached, ready to strike.
With a swift and forceful push, Evain sent the mysterious figure sprawling to the ground. Emerging from the confines of his cloak, none other than Devereaux, her brother, revealed himself. His voice laced with concern, he questioned her sanity in risking her life amidst the turmoil. “Evain, are you crazy?”
Evain, not missing a beat, grasped Devereaux''s arm firmly, guiding him back through the lush Palm Tree Forest. The verdant leaves overhead sheltered them from the impending twilight, casting a hushed serenity over their retreat. The sandy path beneath their feet eventually led them to the peaceful embrace of the beachy shores within the Water Kingdom.
Drawing in a deep breath, Evain glanced at her brother, her eyes filled with a mix of worry and determination. “There is a currently an ongoing battle,” she uttered, her voice tinged with urgency. “Go back inside before you get hurt.”
Devereaux, his demeanor light and carefree, remarked with a mischievous grin, “I desire to visit with a friend. I thought the battle was over for today.” His voice echoed through the tranquil surroundings, momentarily shattering the peacefulness of the scene.
General Frog, joined Evain and Devereaux by the beach. He praised Evain''s bravery, his words filled with admiration. “As always Evain, you''re most impressive,” General Frog declared, his voice resonating with authority.
Devereaux, unable to resist a teasing jab at his sister, pointed his finger towards her and chuckled. “Ah, her, you must be joking. You must not praise the princess, or she''ll get used to it,” he playfully remarked, his laughter floating through the sea breeze.
Evain, her patience running thin, abruptly shoved Devereaux, her eyes flashing with frustration. She pointed towards the magnificent Water Kingdom Palace, standing majestically on the edge of the ocean''s embrace. The grand architecture seemed as though it was a part of the water itself, every detail crafted with exquisite precision. “Go home,” Evain commanded, her tone firm and resolute.
Evain''s heart pounded in her chest as she turned away from her brother, her gaze fixed on the small group of female soldiers standing nearby. Determination etched across her face, she beckoned for them to follow, and with swift, purposeful strides, they left the bustling crowd behind.
Devereaux watched, his eyes filled with concern, as his sister and her loyal soldiers crossed the ornate bridge that led into the Water Kingdom Palace. With a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure no prying eyes were around, he followed in their footsteps, his resolve strong and unyielding.
Inside the palace, Evain led her soldiers down the dimly lit hallway, her mind focused on the task at hand. The flickering candlelight played with shadows on the polished walls, adding an air of secrecy to their movements. Finally, they reached the door to her private quarters, and with a swift yet tender kiss planted on the lips of one of her soldiers, she bid them farewell and stepped into her sanctuary. The door slammed shut behind Evain, sealing her off from the world outside.
Meanwhile, Devereaux rushed down the same hallway, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise stillness of the palace. The urgency pulsated within him, fueling his determination with every step. Bursting into Marius''s bedroom, he was met with a scene he had not expected. Marius, tangled in a passionate embrace with Brooke, froze at the intrusion.
Marius hastily covered Brooke''s form with a sheet, his face flushed and guilty. Confusion and indignation mingled in his words as he addressed his brother. “Brother, what the hell?” he exclaimed, struggling to regain composure.
Devereaux, undeterred by their intimate moment, stepped closer to Marius, his gaze unyielding. “Evain will not let me do anything,” he stated firmly, his voice permeating the room with a mixture of frustration and resolve.
Marius, his face etched with disdain, directed Devereaux towards the gaping entrance of his bedroom, his voice dripping with contempt. “I do not care to hear you complaining about our sister. Get out!”
Silent fury engulfed Devereaux as he obeyed Marius''s command, storming out of the room and slamming the heavy wooden door shut behind him. He cast his eyes down the corridor, noticing his mother''s regal figure elegantly moving towards him.
Taking a deep breath, Devereaux approached his mother, his frustration evident in his voice. “Mother, Evain needs to stop trying to control me. How is it acceptable for her to participate in battles and indulge in her desires with soldiers afterwards?”
With an air of resignation, his mother, the Queen, responded, her voice tinged with a touch of regret. “I told your father that we should’ve married her off. If she continues on this path, she will be worth nothing.”
As they conversed, the Queen''s gaze shifted momentarily, catching sight of King Arroyo engrossed in flirtatious banter with the court ladies. She stood resolute, her voice firm as she approached her husband. Intimate whispers and hushed laughter mingled in the opulent court, yet they seemed to fade away in the presence of the Queen''s commanding presence.
“Your daughter is once again bringing soldiers into her chamber,” she voiced her concern, her words carrying with them the weight of her authority.
Arroyo rolls eyes, he says, “perhaps I should get rid of the lot of you and marry somebody who actually loves her children.”
The Queen''s face contorted with fury as she forcefully shoved Arroyo, causing him to stumble backwards. In her hand, she brandished a small dagger, its gleaming blade poised for action. With a mocking tone, she taunted him, “You''re too much of a coward to do it yourself. Come on, do it.”
In a defiant gesture, Arroyo turned his back on the Queen, his steps determined and resolute. As his figure receded into the distance, he spoke, his voice filled with exhaustion and disillusionment, “I grow more tired of you every day.”