Lord Haldrix, a paunchy man with gilded cuffs and powdered fingers, rose with a scroll in hand. "Four hundred platinum coins. That is the total spent from the royal treasury in the past twenty-four hours—granted to the families of the fallen."
He turned the scroll for all to see. "Under the commander's direct order. Without council approval." He continued with a smug face ""Commander Lucian, you stand accused of irresponsible expenditure of royal funds. You spent over four hundred platinum compensating the families of the fallen without consent."
A murmur spread through the nobles.
"Four hundred platinum! Madness!"
"He acts as if he is a king!"
"Wasteful sentimentality!"
A fist slammed against a table. "Silence!" Lady Valdrina snapped, her voice cold as frost. "Commander Lucian, you will answer. Why did you use the treasury's emergency reserve for what?… For this?"
"This?" Lucian repeated quietly. His jaw tightened. "You refer to the lives of the men who died protecting your walls?"
Lord Haldrix scoffed, leaning forward. "You paid each family five platinum. That is more than some nobles spend on their estates in a year."
Lucian finally snapped. "They lost fathers. Brothers. Sons. Do you expect me to hand them a handful of copper and call it honor?"
The nobles gasped in offense.
Lord Haldrix slammed the scroll onto the table. "That money is for the kingdom's future! You cannot—"
"The kingdom has no future if no one is willing to fight for it," Lucian cut in.
Gasps echoed across the chamber.
One noble pointed a trembling finger at him. "You cross the line commander!" Another snarled, "You insult us!". But Lucian did not back down.
"I speak truth, the men who died last night believed this kingdom was worth bleeding for. And when their families open their doors tomorrow, they should not meet poverty. They should be honored."
Lord Haldrix's face reddened with anger "Commander, your actions are unacceptable. You spent more than you were ever authorized. The treasury does not exist for your emotions!"
Lucian lifted his head, eyes like steel. "No. It exists for the people. You sit in a fortress built by their blood. You eat food grown by their hands. You sleep safely because they fight and die at the walls. Do not lecture me on where the kingdom's wealth belongs."
Uproar broke loose.
"Arrogant!"
"Disrespectful!"
"Strip him of rank!"
"Punish him!"
The shouting swelled, until a voice cut through the storm.
"Tell me," said Lord Thandor, stepping forward from beside the king. His voice was calm, cold… and final.
"How much coin would you pay to bring your own son back from the grave?"
Silence fell instantly.
His gaze swept across the nobles, lingering on Lord Haldrix, who suddenly studied the hem of his sleeve. While Lady Valdrina's jaw clenched, but she said nothing.
"Would you measure his life in gold?" Thandor continued. "Would you look his widow in the eye and say, 'He died for our walls, but we cannot spare the silver to feed your children'?"
Not a single sound dared to interrupt him.
"When we ask men to die for us, we inherit a debt not counted in coins, but in honor. And if this court forgets that… then perhaps it is not the commander who has failed us."
The words struck like a hammer. Even nobles began to sweat.
"That is enough." King Aldren rose from his throne. His gaze swept the hall, piercing nobles, ministers, and even Lucian.
Lord Thandor returned to his place, cane tapping like a slow sentence of judgment. Lucian bowed his head not in defeat, but in silent gratitude.
"Commander," the king said, "you stand accused of spending the kingdom's platinum without council approval."
Lucian met the king's gaze. "Yes, Your Majesty. And I accept full responsibility."
The king's expression remained unreadable. "Tell me," the king asked, ""if time turned back… would you do it again, knowing this judgment would follow?"
Lucian did not hesitate "Yes"
A hush fell. The nobles smirked, certain the king would punish him... But Instead, the king exhaled and turned to the council.
"Then perhaps the question we should ask is not why Commander Lucian gave so much… but why all of you gave so little." A shock rippled through the faces of the ministers and nobles. Then the king continued.
"You sit here surrounded by gold, yet it was he who comforted the widows. He who walked through the ruins. You counted coins while he counted the cost."
A cold quiet swept the hall. The nobles paled. The council stiffened. A judgment had been made… and it was not what they expected.
"Let it be known that this council's judgment is overruled. Commander Lucian retains full authority. Furthermore, he is tasked with leading an investigation into the goblin offensive. Find their source or whatever dark hand drove them to strike our gates."
The king's voice softened, almost like that of a father. "You have carried the weight of many. Now carry this burden a little longer… for all our sakes."
Lucian bowed deeply. "Thank you, my king. I will not fail you."
The king nodded "This hearing is concluded"
Lord Thandor looked at his son from the corner of his eye. For once, there was no coldness, but instead only something rare and quiet.
Pride.
As Lucian turned to leave, nobles glared daggers into his back—anger, envy, and humiliation burning in their eyes. He felt none of it. Only relief… and the lingering ache of battle still echoing in his bones.
But something else stirred too an itch beneath the skin, a whisper in the marrow of his bones. His instincts clawed at him, warning, insisting… telling him he had missed something. Something crucial.
A storm is coming… and it's close.