The morning sun spilled pale gold over Oakhart, gilding the palace towers and reflecting sharply off the cobblestones of the courtyard. Lyra rode at a measured pace, flanked by Lieutenant Shawn and Captain Rita, the weight of the journey pressing heavily across her shoulders. Behind her, Selene moved with careful steps, uneasy amidst the bustle of courtiers gathering for the council. She was no child, yet the court—with its silks, gossip-laced whispers, and eyes that lingered too long—made her feel small, exposed, and out of place.
Inside the grand council chamber, King Aldric awaited with his usual commanding presence. Princess Rayah stood beside him, her sharp gaze attentive, while royal advisors clustered behind their desks, quills poised like weapons over parchment.
Lyra dismounted and presented herself with the precision of a seasoned soldier. She laid the orc-control bracelets and pieces of the rare mined stone upon the polished table, each artifact carrying the weight of unseen threats.
"Your Majesty," Lyra began, steady and composed, "the bandits enslaved villagers to mine this rare stone. According to the survivors, it's so uncommon that even gold is more plentiful in those lands. The villagers were freed, and I left several knights and a healer behind to help rebuild and maintain order."
She paused, letting the gravity settle.
"The bracelets were used to control orcs. Whoever wields them can command the beasts with total obedience. It is an exceptionally dangerous tool—and one we must study before others learn to exploit it."
The King's brow creased. "So the stone and the collars are tied to separate threats?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Lyra confirmed. "Both could shift the balance of power if misused. We must understand their limitations and prepare Oakhart for any potential attack."
Princess Rayah approached the bracelet with a cautious frown. "Controlling orcs… unsettling. Could it extend to other beasts as well?"
"That we don't know, Your Highness," Shawn replied quietly.
The King gestured to a nearby knight. "Send these to the castle scholars. Their research begins immediately."
Princess Rayah turned back to Lyra, her gaze softening. "And the villagers?"
"They are safe," Lyra assured her. "Adults were rescued before our departure. Reconstruction has begun, but the scars of their enslavement will take far longer to heal."
The King's sternness eased. "You have done well, Lyra. You not only defeated the bandits—you restored hope to those they oppressed."
When the formalities concluded, Lyra motioned for Princess Rayah to follow her to a secluded alcove overlooking the palace gardens. Sunlit leaves rustled softly in the breeze, offering a moment of rare privacy.
"I wanted to speak with you about my refusal," Lyra began, her tone careful.
Rayah arched a brow. "About refusing my sister's hand?"
Lyra nodded. "It was never defiance. I refused because of Selene. Her safety… her future. I could not compromise that for politics."
Rayah smirked. "The girl you brought—did you think I wouldn't notice? The one lingering near the pillar?"
Lyra huffed a faint laugh. "I should've known. You're too observant."
"No," Rayah countered lightly, "it's because she stood out. She's very beautiful."
Her laughter grew when she caught the subtle stiffness in Lyra's expression. "Oh, Lyra… it's the first time I've seen you like this."
"Like what?" Lyra asked—too quickly—earning another amused snort.
Rayah's expression softened, warmth overtaking her teasing. "So it is not just duty or loyalty. You care for her."
Lyra exhaled, finally allowing the truth to settle between them. "Yes. I cannot let anyone make her life harder than it already has been. And I could not have been happy in that marriage—it would have been unfair to Princess Kylie."
Rayah touched her arm gently. "I understand. We've been friends since childhood. If this is your path… then I will support it. I will speak with my father. His trust in my counsel is strong—I may persuade him to reconsider."
As they returned to the council hall, Lyra's gaze drifted to Selene. Though still tense beneath the scrutiny of nobility, there was something new in her eyes—something soft and steady. Trust. Reliance. A silent reassurance that, amid political storms and lurking threats, she was not alone.
Outside, Oakhart shimmered beneath the midday sun, unaware of the quiet alliances being forged within its walls. Unaware of the shadows gathering—dangerous tools, simmering emotions, and choices that would test loyalties, hearts, and the very future of the kingdom.