Within the walls of the Empire, the golden towers of the Imperial Palace rose high above the grand square, standing as silent witnesses to the weight of centuries gone by. At the entrance to the great hall, the royal guards lined up in strict formation, their swords gleaming under the ever-burning torches. Everything in the place spoke of power, discipline, and the aura of fear surrounding the Emperor's name.
The Emperor himself sat upon his elevated ivory throne, his piercing eyes watching those who entered the hall as a hunter studies his prey. To his right sat Counselor Dan Trans Duin, the man known as the Right Hand, silent yet his face betrayed no rest. Everyone in the court knew that Dan's few words often turned into decisions that could shake the fates of entire provinces.
Across the marble pillars, Princess Barnella Grick, Advisor to the Royal Guard, moved with measured steps. She wore a black gown streaked with silver lines, her cold eyes fixed on no one in particular yet seeing everything at once. Her very presence was enough to lower the voices of ministers, for all knew that this woman was not merely a princess, but a sharp strategist and a formidable rival.
By the edge of the hall, Brand Al Frick, Commander of the Royal Guard, stood like a looming wall. His massive frame filled the space, and a long scar across his face only deepened his aura of authority. His movements were few, but each step carried weight, as if to declare silently: I am the barrier that shields the Emperor; whoever dares to cross will meet his end at my blade.
The Delayed Caravan
In those very moments, a weary messenger reached the outer gate, quickly intercepted by the guards. After a hurried exchange among the officers, the message was carried to Counselor Dan, who lifted his head and delivered it to the Emperor:
> "Your Majesty, the caravan arriving from the villages has not yet reached us. It was meant to pass the eastern gate at dawn."
The Emperor's brow arched as the murmurs of the court died down. Delay was no trivial matter—especially when it concerned a caravan supposedly protected under royal watch.
From the shadows of a pillar, Barnella allowed herself the faintest of smiles, as though she had anticipated the news all along. She whispered:
> "Delays never happen without cause. The roads are always watched. Either betrayal is at play… or someone within that caravan wished to arrive late."
All eyes turned toward her, but she remained composed, her steady gaze hinting that she knew far more than she chose to reveal.
A Past Unfolded
Dan Trans Dwayne exchanged a fleeting glance with Barnila—one that carried far more than words could ever convey. Between them lay a complicated history, woven from temporary alliances and mutual betrayals. Each knew the other too well, and neither liked being drawn into a situation that bound them together once more.
But it wasn't just about the two of them; Frank's name had begun surfacing in the whispers of the court. The fifty-year-old man arriving with the caravan didn't seem ordinary—he carried a weight, a secret. When his name was mentioned among the guards, Barnila's features froze for a heartbeat, while Dan leaned forward with a cold smile.
> "Frank… I never thought fate would bring him back here."
The words were barely audible, yet Brand Al Frick caught them with a sharp glance. The commander said nothing, but he knew the palace was about to witness an unwanted reunion—one that might reopen wounds best left buried.
---
Scene in the Palace Corridors
In the shadowed rear halls of the palace, where few dared to wander, Barnila walked slowly. Her steps echoed against the stone floor, accompanied by the looming figure of her personal guard. She stopped at a tall window overlooking the courtyard, her gaze fixed on the distant road leading to the eastern gate.
She whispered softly:
> "The delay is deliberate… I know his style. Frank hasn't forgotten, and his arrival will be part of the game."
The guard didn't understand, but bowed in silence.
Meanwhile, Dan sat in his private chamber, reviewing maps and letters. His fingers traced the red marks drawn over scattered villages. A sly smile curved his lips as he scribbled a note: "When the three meet again, the palace will not remain unscathed."
---
The Emperor Watches
The Emperor—whose eyes the court often likened to a "stone eagle's"—missed nothing of the hushed words or tense glances. He knew that the past between Barnila, Dan, and Frank was no mere tale of old, but a volatile thread that could ignite civil strife if not carefully contained.
He declared in his resonant voice:
> "When the caravan arrives… I want to see them with my own eyes. And you, Barnila… you and Dan will sit at my side. No strings shall move beyond my sight."
The last sentence was no ordinary command—it was a proclamation that a confrontation was inevitable.
---
Echoes of the Past
As the court dispersed, Barnila lingered. Memories pressed against her—memories of a time when Frank was a reckless youth, Dan an ambitious commander, and she, a princess hungry for influence. Once, the three had gathered at the same table, but what happened that night changed everything: betrayal, blood, and an unforgivable decision.
Now, that past was knocking once again on the palace gates.
"Three paths begin at the same door,
one leads to betrayal,
one is buried in blood,
and one… opens only with the return of the absent."
Note: There are no royal guards for the caravan because it is a caravan that wanted to cross without raising suspicions or suspicions that it is important .
And Frank, there's a secret you'll know about him in the future, why they said he was young, knowing that he's 50 years old.
{{The wrath of the emperors is not something that can be extinguished forever, it may be a flame of hope or it may be the fire that burns anything in front of it}}