DAEMON
"I do not intend to drag this tournant any longer. The danger and risks it possesses have beco way too many to ignore." Daemon said to Marcus who stood stoically by his side.
Marcus was in noticeable pain after being lashed with silver spikes as the punishnt that Daemon ted to him. But despite his evident pain, Marcus knew well enough that taking a day off Daemon’s side at that particularly pressing mont was out of the question. Not even if he had been whipped seven tis with a silver spiked whip that could have easily killed an ordinary shifter at just the second whiplash.
Honestly, corporeal punishnt was not Daemon’s thing, but Marcus looked way too like him to be affected by diocre punishnts. Hence why Daemon had gone the physical side, it was after all the true way of the wolf.
"How many stages do you want the tournant to take the form of?" Marcus asked with a slight groan tinged to his voice.
"Will two more stages not be enough?" Dawson quizzed back, perusing through the suggestions by his council.
To be more precise, suggestions on what kind of tournant they wanted the next stages to take the form of. Daemon, in order to not appear anymore like a tyrannical ruler had asked the mbers of his council n and court to submit suggestions for the tournant.
As he had expected, an obvious manipulation was evident in the suggestions that had been written. More than eighty percent of the suggestions said one thing; Physical Combat.
It only told Daemon that most of the participants from their houses had more brawn than brain. He couldn’t exactly gloss over the suggestions—no, that would defeat the outlook of a magnanimous ruler he was trying to put out before the world.
So what to do?
Physical Combat was way too easy; not unless he made it more interesting, and he was beginning to have ideas.
Daemon fiddled with a certain red moonstone he had co upon on Zina’s bed, and honestly, his new found obsession for the stone didn’t quite co close to the full on obsession he had for Zina.
There was not a single second when he didn’t think of her.
"It seems you’ve ideas," Marcus muttered, cracking the muscles of his neck in a bid to release the tension of his whippings that had his back string tight.
At the sa ti, the midnight bell struck signaling the end of the first stage of the tournant. Almost imdiately, a knock sounded on his door, and the head of the Hiders whose skills he had employed for that stage of the tournant revealed himself.
The man grinned broadly, "Your majesty, the results are in." He handed over a sealed scroll to Daemon which Marcus collected instead.
"Of the ninety-three groups how many made it?" Daemon asked, still fiddling with the red moonstone in between his fingers. He certainly hoped that far lesser numbers made it.
Marcus perused through the scroll for so monts before he answered, "twenty-two groups."
That was more than Daemon expected, but he agreed that was a start. He quickly did the math.
"So that ans we still have about seven hundred and twenty six participants in this tournant? We must slim the number down to a hundred as I do not intend this tournant to exceed a third stage."
The head of the Hiders seed to grin at that. He was enjoying the ga far more than was normal. "Why don’t you use physical combat? Surely that is a good way to weed out the weaklings quickly."
Daemon shook his head at the man’s unasked for suggestion. "It would only be half the number if everyone pitted against one man."
"Then you could simply keep putting them against each other until the number is reduced." The man proffered, eyes shining with delight.
"That will only waste my ti, Hider."
The man chuckled, "my bad for suggesting. I know you will only co up with sothing as befuddling as it’s enigmatic. I shall take my leave, I only ask that you allow and my people to witness the climax of everything, old friend."
Daemon glared at the man. He couldn’t quite recall them being friends just because they had known each other during his days as the leader of the Army Without An Alpha. The man had perford many jobs for him, one of them being hiding the army he once owned that no one ever even asked about.
Finally, he shook his head. "Suit yourself, however I cannot host you in my castle as it’s unfortunately going to be renovated."
The other man frowned like he found it strange. "Renovation? Knowing you, you must have so snide plans up in your sleeves. Anyway, I find the won of the capital to be quite to my taste. I shall just find myself an inn to nestle and let go of all my worries while anticipating in earnest the second stage of your shrewd brain, your majesty."
And with that, the man swept a dramatic bow before leaving Daemon’s office.
Daemon collected the scroll from Marcus and his eyes swept casually against the list of nas. Yaren’s group had made it to the top by finding a total of nine items, not like it mattered.
The second group that made it to the top though found a total of four items which got Daemon’s attention. Other than the two top groups, every other group found either two items, and mostly just one.
A na caught his eyes from the group; Red Hand Fionna. And besides her na, the na of the leader of the group caught his eyes....
...the Sighter.
"I can see your woman made it." Daemon said while he swept through the remainder of the list. There was nothing more interesting to see so he tossed the scroll aside.
"My woman?" Marcus said stiffly.
Daemon flipped through a book in a blatant act of dismissing his Beta.
"Summon Yaren for , I know it’s the wrong ti, but I need to speak to him about sothing urgent."
Marcus paused for so mont as if stewing in the intended aning of Daemon’s forr words. Then he bowed, "I shall be discreet as possible your majesty." He said while leaving.
Already, Daemon could hear the distant clamor of the tournant contestants as they read the results that had already been posted all over the capital. He had no intention to address the winners or the losers though. Although it could be said that giving out such a title at that stage was way too early seeing as they had a long way to go with the tournant.
As his thoughts drifted to setting up the stage for the second tournant, his door opened revealing none other than Shadow.
The man, ever clad in his dark cloak with the hood over his head bowed, "You can now et with Alpha Prince Garuk."
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