Like an Ant in a Hot Pan...

Isabel's breath caught in her throat. The mention of the night bloom sent a chill down her spine. She glanced around, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. She lowered her gaze to the ground, avoiding eye contact with the other knights and soldiers.

Then, she heard another voice, deeper and filled with frustration. "What the hell were all of you doing? How could he get the night bloom before you? If it was our empire who had given it, we could have negotiated many things from him. Such a huge loss because of all of you."

Isabel's hands trembled slightly at the implication of these words. Someone had obtained the night bloom—possibly the man who had spared her—and it seemed to have significant consequences for the military leadership.

Her mind raced with questions. Had the mysterious man been working with the military? Or against them? And what did they know about the night bloom's true power?

She pressed her back against the tent wall, straining to hear more without drawing attention. The voices inside continued in heated discussion, debating strategies and consequences. Isabel tried to piece together the fragments of information she overheard, but it only added to her confusion and concern.

Minutes passed like hours until finally, the voices inside began to fade. The conversation seemed to be winding down. And finally a several man emerged from the tent with noble aura man leading them.

The man with dark brown hair and a royal outfit emerged first from the command tent, his presence filled the space with an aura of authority and intensity.

Soldiers and knights outside the tent bowed deeply, their movements measured and respectful. Isabel, standing just outside, observed him closely, noting the emblem of the dragon on his cloak—a symbol of the royal family.

The man's expression was stern, his features chiseled with determination as he walked away with purposeful strides. Isabel couldn't help but feel awe as she watched him depart. His departure seemed to mark the end of a heated discussion that had filled the tent with tense voices moments before.

As the nobleman strode away, Isabel's thoughts swirled with mounting dread. The emblem of the dragon on his cloak meant he was a member of the royal family. But which one? She strained to recall the faces and names of the high-ranking nobles she had only heard rumors about.

Her heart pounded as she mulled over the possibilities. Whoever he was, his involvement with the night bloom meant a complex and dangerous web of politics.

The conversation she'd overheard suggested that the night bloom had been intended as leverage in some crucial negotiation—leverage that had now slipped through their fingers, presumably into the hands of the man who had spared her.

The implications were dire. If the night bloom was as valuable as they suggested, Isabel was now in possession of something that could cost her her life. The thought made her shiver. She had always known the flower was important, but she hadn't realized just how deep the stakes went.

Once the man was at a distance, the atmosphere outside the tent relaxed slightly. The soldiers straightened up, the tension in their shoulders easing as they resumed their duties with renewed focus.

The guard beside her nodded discreetly and gestured for Isabel to enter.

Steeling herself, Isabel entered the command tent. The interior was dimly lit, the air thick with tension. Several maps and documents were strewn across a large table in the center, and around it stood a handful of high-ranking officers.

One of them was General Kaldor Kyriakidis. He gave her a small smile, but she hastily looked down at her feet, not daring to meet his eyes—not after what had happened during their last encounter.

At the end of the table sat General thorne, his presence commanding and intimidating..

General thorne glanced up as Isabel entered, his sharp eyes assessing her. "Isabel, correct?"

She nodded, her throat dry. "Yes, General."

He motioned for her to step closer. "You must be wondering why I summoned you."

"Yes, sir," she managed to reply, keeping her voice steady despite her rising anxiety.

General Thorne leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving her face.

General Thorne's piercing gaze locked onto Isabel's, his eyes probing deep as he leaned back, his expression a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

"Tell me, Isabel," he began slowly, his voice carrying the weight of authority, "where did you acquire the potion to counteract the poison of such a high-level dark monster? Such remedies are not only rare but practically unheard of outside highly restricted circles."

General Thorne's question startled Isabel at first, her mind racing to recall which potion he could be referring to. But then, in a sudden flash of memory, she saw again the grateful smile on General Kaldor Kyriakidis' face when she had handed him the vial. That warmth in his eyes had reassured her that her gesture of gratitude had been well received.

Clearing her throat, she met General Thorne's gaze with newfound confidence. "Ah, yes, that potion," she began cautiously, choosing her words with care. "It was a gift, given to me by an old acquaintance who specializes in rare elixirs. I thought it might be of use, given the circumstances."

Isabel's heart raced, but relief washed over her when she realized they were not asking about the night bloom.

They were interested in the potion she had given to General Kaldor Kyriakidis as a gesture of gratitude. This was something she could handle.

General Thorne's brow furrowed slightly, his skepticism apparent as he listened intently to Isabel's explanation.

The dimly lit room seemed to amplify the weight of his scrutiny, the shadows dancing across the walls as if echoing the tension in the air.

"And this acquaintance," General Thorne pressed on, his tone measured yet insistent, "do they often supply such potent remedies?

It's not every day one encounters a potion capable of neutralizing the venom of a creature as formidable as the one in question."