Chapter 8

She's left standing in the corridor when a whistle from behind breaks her train of thought. She whips around to find Sir. Ralthone striding towards her, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, well, well, looks like I got here just in time," he says, his voice dripping with false concern.

"You seem to be in quite the predicament, my queen. Care to tell me what's going on?". 

She clicks her tongue at his impertinence, "Don't be ridiculous, Ralthone everything is fine. How long were you standing there?". She crosses her arms as she glares at the tall man studying his next reactions.

 Sir. Ralthone chuckles, his smirk growing wider as he stops in front of Ana Sofia. "Long enough to see the great Queen of Elynor pleading with a mere knight," he says, his voice full of mockery.

Her mouth drops open as a blush creep over her entire body, She swallows her anger as she tries to cooly regain her thoughts and words. Irritation lined the back of her throat as she scorned herself for agreeing with him. He was right, Wesleynard was throwing her off. Ralthone just continues to mock her as they inch closer together.

"Come now, my queen, there's no need to be embarrassed," he says, his voice oozing false sincerity. "It's only natural for a woman to turn to a strong man in times of need. And Wesleynard is certainly that - strong, brave, and loyal."

 She returns his gaze in a quick beat, "And what of you Ralthone? you mock me but, aren't you also in the running to win my heart? " She spoke calmly Ralthone threw his head back and laughed, a hearty, genuine sound that filled the corridor.

Her lip bottom lip juts out in response to his reaction she finds it hard to control the expression forming on her face. She felt appalled at his obvious dissatisfaction with her.

"Oh, Ana Sofia, you do amuse me," he says, still chuckling. "You give me far too much credit. I have no interest in winning your heart." He smoothly utters.

As he extends his hands toward her to show he has let his mask fall. Ralthone didn't want her to get the wrong idea. He wanted her power, land, and something far deeper that he couldn't form into words yet. She rolls her eyes as she turns to walk away Ana Sofia storms off, her footsteps echoing through the corridor as she tries to put some distance between herself and Sir. Ralthone. She can feel his gaze on her back, and she can't help but wonder what he's thinking. Does he truly have no interest in her heart, or is he just saying that to keep up appearances?

Nonetheless, she feels herself growing weary from the evening as she bursts into her chambers she slams the door behind her, her chest heaving with anger and frustration. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down as she surveys the room. The fire in the hearth has died down, leaving the room cool and dimly lit. She calls for her servants to relight the hearth and to prepare a bath quickly. She begins to untie her hair when she catches a glance at her appearance in the mirror. She looked different before dinner she wore this dress with an almost haughty arrogance owning her curves and structure but, after this evening's dinner, a thought crossed her head. "Maybe I'm just a fool in a pretty dress". As the servants scurry to fulfill her orders, Ana Sofia stands before the mirror, her fingers tracing the intricate embroidery of her dress. Her mind is swirling with thoughts, her earlier confidence evaporating like mist in the morning sun.

 Her mind wanders to the two men she dined with that evening it almost feels wrong to think of Wesleynard. He surely would no longer regard her in a good light. Perhaps he finally realized her existence was nothing more than darkness. Her mind skimmed over Ralthone she had yet to know what to make of him she knew the obvious of his motivations but, she didn't know the extent of how far he would go. The fire in the hearth roars to life, casting a warm, inviting glow throughout the room. The servants draw a bath for Ana Sofia, filling it with steaming hot water and fragrant bubbles. She slips out of her dress and into the bath, sinking into the warm water with a contented sigh. She let the soft smell of vanilla and rose fill her nose, as her memories began to roam to a familiar scent of her mother. The water soothes her aching muscles, and she feels some of her tension slip away. She closes her eyes and leans her head back, letting the warmth of the bath envelop her. She can't help but think of her mother, who passed away many years ago.

Her mother Pauline was a force to be reckoned with but, she softened her edge all for love. She saw the way love abandoned her. When she built her father up to the greatest heights ever known to man only for his love to be snatched by a younger mistress. A tale as old as time. She let the water lull her into a state of calm, the warmth seeping into her bones and soothing her distressed spirit. She remembers her mother's words of wisdom, how she used to say that love is a choice, a commitment, something that cannot be forced or manipulated. Ana Sofia scoffed at her words if only her mother knew the terror of what she would endure with her late husband. She quickly moved to the next thought if she recalled her husband too long she would slip into the world of terror he caused.  

The warm water of the bath envelops Ana Sofia, bringing her a sense of comfort and peace. She takes a deep breath, inhaling the calming scents of vanilla and rose. She lets her thoughts drift to her mother, Pauline, a woman who was both strong and gentle. Ana Sofia remembers the love her mother had for her father, despite his infidelity. She remembers the way her mother's eyes would light up when she spoke of him, and the way she would smile when she thought no one was looking. She remembers the way her mother held on to their love, even when it seemed impossible. Her thoughts soon began to trail off into nothingness as sleep began to lull over her. She dressed in a simple nightgown as her servants applied lotions and products to her skin. As she makes her way to her bed. She slips into a restless sleep, her dreams filled with memories of her late husband's disappointment and her mother's gentle guidance. She tosses and turns, unable to find a comfortable position. As Ana Sofia tries to sleep, the castle is quiet and still. The fire in the hearth burns low, casting long shadows across the room. Suddenly, there is a loud knock at the door.

The sound jolts Ana Sofia awake, and she sits up in bed, her heart racing. She quickly takes note of her surroundings trying to reorient herself.

"Who is it?" she calls towards the door.  

A voice answers from the other side, "It is Advisor Mallorca, my queen. I must speak with you urgently".

Ana Sofia takes a deep breath to calm herself and then calls out, "Very well, come in." She wraps

herself in a robe as she watches Advisor Mallorca enter the room swiftly, she knows something is wrong as she her heartbeat hammers in her ears.

"What's wrong?" she quickly asks not wanting to waste any time on formalities.

Advisor Mallorca, his face etched with concern, approaches Ana Sofia's bedside. "My dear queen," he begins, his voice heavy with urgency. "I have received word that there has been a sighting of Daeth in the neighboring kingdom of Thaloria ".

Her eyes widen in bewilderment at the sudden news, Daeth the rebellion group has been the topic of many council meetings as of late. Her mind ran over the horror stories that she recalled of their pillaging and plundering but, her mind questioned as to why they were in Thaloria.

She glanced at Advisor Mallorca, "How is Thaloria going to handle this?"  Advisor Mallorca shakes his head gravely. "Unfortunately, no. King Thalor has sent a plea for help, but we have yet to receive a response from the other kingdoms. It seems Daeth has caught us all off guard."

Ana Sofia's mind races, trying to think of a plan for now she had to rely on her council.

 "Assemble the council". Ana Sofia declares, her voice firm and resolute. "We must act quickly and decisively to aid King Thalor and protect our kingdom from Daeth's wrath."

Advisor Mallorca nods, already turning to leave and carry out her command. "At once, my queen."

Ana Sofia raced down the halls as the cold crept beneath her robe the once-quiet castle was set ablaze by the newest development of the news that had crept over the palace walls. She burst through the council room to find everyone already set and waiting.

She nodded at her members in a knowing acknowledgment, "I need details. now." she commanded as she took her place at the table.  

The council members exchange worried glances before one of them, a middle-aged woman with sharp features and graying hair, speaks up. "My queen, we have received reports that Daeth has been sweeping through the kingdoms, taking advantage of the chaos caused by the ongoing wars."

 Ana Sofia listens intently as the council member continues, "They have been destroying everything in their path, leaving nothing but destruction and despair in their wake."

The queen's mind races as she tries to process this information. She looks at Advisor Mallorca, who nods solemnly in agreement. She glances around the room noting Wesleynard in the corner, her heart stops momentarily not realizing he would be there.

"Do we know anything of their leader?" she asked. If they were to send aid they needed more concrete information, a name, a face, something to focus their efforts on.

The council members shake their heads, looking grim. "No, my queen," another council member speaks up. "Daeth is shrouded in mystery. They operate in secrecy, and their leader remains unknown to us."

 Her brows furrow as she finds herself at a loss for what to do. She couldn't send out her men with such little information she kept going over scenarios in her head. She saw the eyes of the room as they hung onto her every word the tense energy seemed to crush her.

Trying to stall she continued her questions, "Any from the neighboring kingdoms'? " she asked tightening her grip on the table's edge. 

Advisor Mallorca shakes his head once more, his expression grave. "My scouts have reported that the neighboring kingdoms are dealing with their issues and have yet to send any aid to King Thalor. It seems we are on our own in this matter, Your Majesty."

More bad news she thought. Feeling the stress make its way to her head she began to tremble slightly, "How many casualties? including the civilians?" she questioned once more.

The council member who had spoken earlier answers, her voice heavy with sadness. "My queen, the reports indicate that Daeth spares no one in their path. The civilian casualties are in the thousands, if not more. King Thalor's army is vastly outnumbered and struggling to hold them off".  

"Very well. I'll be leading the charge. Postpone the tournament. Work on evacuating our residents and ready our soldiers we'll set out first thing in the morning".