In the opulent confines of her royal chamber, Queen Liora stood by the window, her thoughts a tempestuous sea. The imperial palace seemed shrouded in secrecy and she could not shake off the growing unease that gnawed at her like relentless waves against the shore.
"Have you received any word about the king?" she inquired, her eyes reflecting worry, addressing her loyal maid.
"No, Your Majesty. No one has seen him. He's barricaded himself away," the maid responded, concern etched across her face.
Anxiety coiled within the queen like a tightening knot. The absence of her husband for several hours now weighed heavily on her heart. Determination surged through her; she could wait no longer. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness swept over her, causing her to stagger. Overwhelmed, she hurriedly made her way towards the washroom, battling to keep her composure.
"Her Majesty..." the maid trailed off, rushing to her side, alarmed by the sudden turn of events. "Are you alright?"
As Queen Liora knelt, attempting to regain her balance, she felt a profound sense of relief and elation. Amidst the turmoil, there was a spark of joy she hadn't anticipated.
"You're pregnant," the maid announced, a smile lighting up her features, revealing the joyous revelation.
"Truly?" the queen gasped, her eyes shimmering with tears of happiness.
"Certainly," the maid affirmed.
"Keep this news between us," Queen Liora instructed, her voice a gentle plea, a secret to be cherished for now.
In a stark chamber, the youngest prince faced a grueling interrogation. The minister of interrogation, cold and relentless, bore down on him, demanding an explanation for the unthinkable.
"Your highness," the minister pressed, his voice a blade of accusation, "tell us the truth. Why would you attempt to harm your elder brother?"
"I didn't have a choice. It was self-defense," the youngest prince vehemently declared, his voice echoing through the chamber.
The minister remained unyielding, convinced it was a fabricated tale. Signals were exchanged, and a member of his entourage stepped forward. With a swift, cruel motion, the prince's finger was pricked, a drop of blood falling ominously.
"Confess!" the minister demanded, his patience wearing thin, cruelty dripping from every word. The prince's cry of pain tore through the air."But you claimed to have placed it in your chamber," the Minister of Crimes questioned.
"I've told the truth now!" the prince pleaded, his eyes desperate.
In the depths of agony and despair, the prince endured the torment inflicted upon him. The minister's face was a mask of callousness, unmoved by the suffering before him. Water was poured, and the prince struggled to breathe, the sensation of drowning consuming him.
The agony of the prince's ordeal echoed through the cold walls, the palace seemingly oblivious to the suffering within its very heart.
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