"Did I hear you correctly?" King Rollo asked.
"You did, Your Majesty," Aeron replied. "The nomads are just as desperate as we are. They want to survive even more badly than we do. That is why they went as far as kidnapping the princess. It was not out of pure cruelty, but because they needed a way to bargain for their lives. And I believe they will accept the offer of fighting with us, if we let them in."
"You really are serious about this, aren't you? Did I not tell you about our history with them?" King Rollo said.
"You did," Aeron answered again.
The King's voice rose slightly. "And yet you still want to take all that back? To erase the bloodshed, and the pain our people endured? And after that, accept them into this kingdom, a kingdom that bled and suffered to fight them off? You think the people would welco that? You think our soldiers would stand side by side with them?"
Aeron took a step forward. "I'm afraid so, Your Majesty. Desperate tis call for desperate asures. Everyone knows how hard things are now. Everyone feels the weight of this war, wondering if they will survive. So yes, the people would accept, and the soldiers would fight with them. Because they know what we are fighting is greater than all of us. They would not care who stands beside them. All they need is the strength of numbers. What matters now is survival."
The King looked at him in silence, with an unreadable expression. Then, leaning forward, he said, "Very well, let us say they co. Let us say they fight with us. And let us say, by so miracle, we win this war. What happens after that? What happens when they turn around and stab us in the back, here, in the heart of our own kingdom? They are more than capable of doing that. You know it as well as I do."
Aeron drew in a long breath. "Yes, they are capable. I do not deny that. But they will not because they fear us. Two kingdoms stand together here. They cannot defeat even one alone, and now they would face two. And beyond that, they know there is the dragon. The odds would never be in their favor. They will not risk it."
The room fell silent. The King then turned to Nyella. "What do you think?"
Nyella spoke softly but clearly. "I think he does have a point," she said slowly, choosing her words with care. And I believe it is better than sending the people. Both choices are painful, both are dangerous. But one is less harmful than the other. So yes, I would say let us go with this."
Aeron added, "Please, your majesty. Think about this. This is not just for them. This is for survival. For our survival."
The King let out a long breath and finally nodded. "Alright. If you insist so strongly, then I will go against my own wish and grant this. But know that I do this for my people, not for the nomads. Still, I will not be the one to go there myself to convince them."
Aeron smiled. "That is not a problem, your majesty. I will go myself. I will leave tomorrow."
And then the eting in the war room finally ca to an end. Everyone began leaving in groups, speaking quietly among themselves. As Aeron stepped out, he caught up with Nyella.
"Thanks for your support back there," he said in a low voice.
Nyella shook her head. "It wasn't to support you. It was simply the better choice. So there's no need to thank ."
"Even still," Aeron replied, refusing to let it go. He studied her face closely. "You're not okay, are you?"
Nyella did not answer. She looked ahead and kept walking calmly.
"Tell what's wrong," Aeron pressed gently. "You've been this way since you t your father. Is this about the war, or sothing else?"
Nyella's voice was quiet when she spoke. "It's not that. It's not any of that. I'm just tired of all this, Aeron. Tired of the weight on my shoulders, tired of every day feeling like the last. I just want this war to be over quickly. I just hope we make it."
Aeron nodded slowly and spoke with a calm voice. "We will. I promise you that. You'll see."
They reached the front of her chamber. Nyella placed her hand against the door.
"Aeron," she said, turning to him, "I need to rest now. My father will be leaving tonight. I only want a mont to myself before I go out to send him off."
"Leaving tonight?" Aeron asked, surprised.
She nodded.
"Alright then," Aeron said, stepping back. "Rest well. I'll see you later." He gave her a faint smile, then turned away toward his own room.
When Aeron opened the door to his chamber, he froze. Soone was inside, walking slowly, looking around as though searching for sothing. Aeron's heart raced as the man turned. He could not believe it. His chest tightened.
It was King Tharyn.
"Your… your Majesty," Aeron stamred.
The King t his gaze calmly. "Hello, Aeron. You must be surprised to see here."
Aeron remained silent, frozen where he stood.
"I can see you are more than surprised," Tharyn said. "Calm yourself. I ca only to speak with you."
But Aeron could not calm himself. Rage was already rising in him, boiling hotter with every passing mont. His thoughts clouded, his breathing grew heavier. He could not hear clearly. All he could see was the man before him.
Stories of his father's death filled his mind. Stories of betrayal. Stories of how King Tharyn had given the order. Everything ca rushing back at once. And now, the man responsible stood in front of him.
Aeron's eyes drifted to the bed. His sword lay there. Then he looked back at King Tharyn. His gaze kept moving between the sword… and the man he believed was his father's killer.
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