The King - What a smell of... blood!

When they opened the door to the outside of that hellish place, the sun had already set. The white glow of the night seeped into the dungeon staircase as the soldier and his King emerged from it. The guard knew what he had to do. He waited for his monarch to move away before going after the healer. When he was almost out of sight of the King, the monarch called out to him.

"Soldier! If you learn anything about the Captain, inform me immediately."

"Yes, Your Highness!" the young man replied and then departed.

Rufus wasn't sure what he should do now. His eyes felt heavier than his entire body, and the muscles in his arms trembled almost as much as those in his legs. His back was already hunched, as if carrying a sack of flour upon it. The King couldn't even maintain his composure. All he wished for now was to fall onto his bed and wake up from that horrible dream, but he had to ensure the outcome of Illia's mission. Since no other soldier had come to inform him, he concluded that there had been no further attacks. The night was silent, and the path to the throne room was dark.

After crawling his way to the throne room, it was only when he reached the door that Rufus realized how blood-soaked he was. The fatigue was so strong that he hadn't even noticed it before. If he were seen like that, twenty thousand rumors would arise and worsen the situation. He couldn't be seen in that state. He turned around and headed for the nearest private washroom he could recall. As he was getting closer, he bumped into someone in the shadows. It was a tall woman with a surprisingly unpleasant odor. Only when the moonlight fell upon her face did Rufus manage to see: Margaret, the Queen's sister. What bad luck.

"Your Highness," the woman made a quick and simple bow. Margaret had difficulty following proper etiquette with others, and it was clear that she forced herself to do so for the King. It was far from natural, and in that moment, it only seemed to worsen the situation. The woman squinted and examined the bloodstains on the monarch's body.

- "What a smell of..."

"Blood. I am dealing with the person responsible for the explosion, I must go!" Rufus hurried to leave, but the woman insisted.

"Oh," she said, preventing her brother-in-law from escaping, "so you've met the man. Quite a... different type, don't you think?" she asked, with a somewhat confused expression overshadowed by the shadows.

Rufus could be a charismatic king, but he didn't waste his time when he believed it wasn't necessary. The monarch simply turned around and walked away, leaving the Iron Lady standing in the shadows. After changing his silk shirt for the rags he found in the washroom and cleaning the blood from his leather garments, Rufus emerged from that place with a renewed appearance, though fatigue still consumed his body. He retraced his steps back the same way, but this time he was fortunate not to run into the woman's sister, at least not until he entered the throne room. He pushed the door open and was greeted by an entirely different atmosphere from the dark and solitary exterior. The room seemed to be lit by a thousand candles and filled with a multitude of people. It was only after the soldier guarding the interior announced the King's presence that the spirits calmed, and a path opened up to his leather throne. Up the steps, his wife awaited him with a worried expression as she finished listening to whatever her sister was telling her. From the horror-stricken look on the Queen's face, Rufus had an inkling of what the Iron Lady had conveyed. Despite having limited information, it seemed that a proclamation was expected. The King approached his wife and asked her, in the lowest voice he could muster amidst the silence:

"Is there anything important that I need to know?" The question was quick, and Rufus hoped for an equally swift response. He couldn't keep his people waiting. Fortunately, his wife knew him well.

"No, everything has been normalized, and people are being taken care of," the Queen affirmed, her face showing concern. The King nodded and turned to his people.

"My dear subjects, we have finally managed to bring the situation under control. The perpetrator of the attack appears to have been captured and will no longer roam our streets. The injured are already being treated. Now, we will focus on financial and specific matters. I will speak with each of you individually tomorrow, but for now, I ask that you retire," Rufus addressed them.

The people responded with a mixture of indignation and revolt. Rufus felt indignant at the lack of respect. Perhaps on other occasions, he would have taken it more seriously, but he was infinitely tired for that.

As he sat on the soft leather of his throne, the King felt embraced by the upholstery. His desire was to close his eyes and sleep right there. As the subjects departed through the front door, he noticed someone sneaking against the flow of people to enter the room. When the person appeared, they were recognized. Illia. Finally. The King's right-hand man bowed as he ascended the steps to the throne and leaned towards his lord's ear. Around the monarch, only his wife, daughter, daughter-in-law, Illia, and a few soldiers remained. Rufus seemed to have no strength left even to keep his eyes open.

"Illia, please be as brief as you can. I am on the verge of falling asleep right here," he pleaded, as he removed the crown from his head and placed it on the pillow beside the throne.

"I will, my King. The ship that exploded was the Curious Lord, and the Captain was there when it happened. His crew claims to have discovered a new continent, with real dragons and spells. They brought that prisoner as proof," Illia said, wide-eyed, looking at the King.

Rufus expressed his confusion with a frowning face. It seemed like he had finally managed to sleep, or perhaps his right-hand man was delirious. For a moment, he pondered the impossibility of such a massive explosion occurring on a newly arrived ship at the port, and then the pieces started to come together. Could the legends really have come to life? The monarch was too tired to think. In that moment, he didn't care about dragons or wild men, nor the death of his old friend. He couldn't think of anything, except the softness and comfort of his bed.

"I've decided to contact the lumberjack. I didn't know what else to do, my friend," Illia placed a hand on Rufus' shoulder. In those circumstances, the King could never have remembered the lumberjack. After all, the fate of all could be in the hands of the great and pathetic executiner.