Prince Harold of Tritine
The royal gardens had always been my refuge, though today's tranquility felt hollow. My fingers brushed against a withered rose, its crumbling petals a reminder of how far Tritine had fallen. Once, our lands had been carpeted in vibrant blooms so rich that travelers would mistake them for spilled blood from afar.
But times have changed, tables have turned, and coins, flipped. Even having your eyes laid on a garden like this is a luxury for many. And for that, I am grateful. Grateful that I have been given the opportunity to admire such beauty. As the withered petal slipped through my fingers, I was left with a sorrowful aftertaste.
Following that, a soldier came to me with a scroll. A red-golden ribbon bound the scroll, and I understood the significance of that scroll. Without a word, I waved off the soldier and opened the scroll to see what was in for me.
"From General Klieve." I let my words slip from my tongue as no one was there to potentially spy on me.
I read it inwardly, "A veil has been placed on the National Barracks. Just as the king had predicted, we were unable to reach out to the lieutenants and the majors present there. I request an immediate meeting."
Sighing, I closed the scroll. Before I could let out another breath, another messenger came to me. He, too, came with a scroll, one with the same ribbon. I dismissed him and opened it.
"From General Vincent." I read the name inwardly and looked at the content, "There have been several attacks on at least 6 of the noble houses. Each of their estates has been scathed badly. The names are given as follows: Rein, Mordana, Platzhirsch, Boltaire, Leumann, and lastly, Morty."
6 of the noble houses, all of them were attacked. 5 of the families are reported missing while the youngest son of the House Morty is still recovering in the national hospital. 6 of them were very influential powers in this city and in the country overall. Most importantly...
All of them were suspected of having a connection with the House Volkslova. Vestiron, the fugitive, along with these noble houses, were planning on overthrowing the current king from the city of Tritine. Strangely enough, all of them were wiped clean, not by the king's own force but by some other power.
Again, there were attacks on the barrack, presumably by the same party. All of it seems too coordinated to me. Just what is the perpetrator planning? Killing forces from both sides, playing a neutral stance?
Eukaphrotians, without a doubt, it was them. It has to be them. The king, my father, is suspected of working with the Eukaphrotians currently. Did he make a deal with them? To sell your own barracks in exchange for wiping out the rebels, I wondered. But what would they gain? And more importantly, isn't it the same as just throwing away the nation to them?
Before my paranoia grew dire, I felt a firm sensation of warm hands on my shoulders. I turned around to see her, someone I could truly trust in this world of lies.
"Princess Martha? What brings you here?" I jolted back to senses, almost losing my composure. The young, charming lady looked around to admire the view, ignoring my question.
She was the princess of the neighboring city-state of Briggsvale, just west of Tritine, and a childhood friend of mine. She wore a casual robe, but the expensive golden horn-like crown made her appear like a true sovereign entity. Her long brown hair wavered in the cold breeze, and her crystalline blue eyes were locked with mine. She addressed me finally,
"Prince Harold. You seem to have formed dark circles under your eyes. Is something troubling you?"
I shrugged with a heavy sigh. "You have heard about the rumors, right?"
"What about it?"
"I am just worried for my old man. He might be walking on a path of loose string right now. Dealing with so many problems is not an easy task, even for an iron-fist king like him."
She got down on her knees to breathe in the smell of the rose, and then she continued, "How is Hera? Is she still in her rebellious stage?"
"Can't say," I admitted. I got down as well, matching shoulders with her, "What about your sisters? Are they still troubling you?"
"Well..." She stopped for a moment. "Not really. I've suppressed all their efforts for now. They can't raise a voice for now."
"This is what happens in a kingless kingdom, huh," I replied, my eyes fully focused on the rose.
"I am not eligible to be a queen, Harold." She said with a somber tone, "I can't lead the nation of Briggsvale myself...The ministers are urging me to get married."
"Well, that's-"
Before my words died, the sight of the running soldier caught my glimpse. I stood up immediately to receive the news. And what he had told me shook me to my core as even Lady Martha widened her eyes.
"Th-The king is missing?" I spoke, but my words died along my inner self as I struggled to piece the situation.