In a massive, ornately decorated tent near the rear of the Vond camp. Laughter and music filled the air as women in elegant attire danced and frolicked around a lavishly dressed man reclining on an extravagant chair. His golden goblet, filled to the brim with wine, glimmered under the soft glow of lanterns.
"I am such a genius!" the man bellowed, his laughter echoing through the tent. He took a long sip of wine before boasting, "Killing two birds with one stone with just this move, it's almost too easy!"
A group of older men, dressed in fine robes, sat at the sides, observing the scene with indulgent grins. They too held goblets of wine, casually sipping as they watched the dancers and listened to their king's boasts.
"Yes, my lord," one of the men said, raising his cup in deference. "This war will soon reach its conclusion, and victory shall be yours."
"Surely the king is the wisest in all the lands," another chimed in, his voice dripping with flattery. "None can compare to your brilliance."
This flattery sent another wave of laughter through the tent as the king basked in their praise, utterly engrossed in his moment of triumph.
"I should be getting good news soon," the king mused, twirling his goblet of wine in his hand.
The tent's lively atmosphere was abruptly interrupted as a soldier entered, bowing deeply. "Apologies for the interruption, my king."
The older men seated nearby instantly bristled, their expressions turning dark.
"What is the meaning of this?" one snapped, his voice sharp with irritation.
"Can't you see that the king is busy?" another growled, glaring daggers at the soldier.
"It seems like you truly don't value your life," a third added coldly, his fingers drumming on the armrest of his chair.
The soldier dropped to one knee, his head bowed low. "Apologies, my lords. But I bring urgent news."
The king, unfazed by the outburst, waved a dismissive hand, his mood still cheerful. "Leave him be," he said with a chuckle, his gaze falling on the soldier. "Go on, then. What's this urgent news?"
The soldier lifted his head cautiously. "My king, Arizol and his men have yet to return. We suspect... they've been captured."
The king's jovial expression vanished, replaced by a scowl. He slammed his goblet onto the table, spilling wine as the tent fell silent. "Captured?" he repeated, his tone dangerously low. "How incompetent can one man be? I trusted Arizol with a simple task!"
The women stopped dancing, retreating quietly to the edges of the tent. The older men exchanged uneasy glances but wisely stayed silent.
The king rose to his feet, pacing back and forth as his annoyance grew. His ornate robes swayed with every step, the jewels encrusted in his crown glinting in the flickering lantern light. "I should've known better than to rely on a fool like him," he muttered, his fists clenching at his sides.
Turning abruptly to the soldier, the king's voice boomed, "This changes everything. If they've been captured, they'll talk. And if they talk, it won't be long before our plans are exposed."
He strode to the center of the tent, addressing everyone present. "Enough waiting! Assemble the troops immediately. We strike at dawn. If they want to meddle in our affairs, we'll crush them before they have the chance!"
"Yes, my king!" the soldier replied, rushing out to relay the orders.
"Of course he did," Asher muttered, his tone laced with sarcasm. "And the new plan was to force the queen into marriage with your king? That way, you could merge kingdoms without triggering the alliance's intervention?"
"Yes," the commander confirmed, his vacant expression unwavering. "That was the only way to avoid retaliation. If the alliance saw the kingdoms united through marriage rather than conquest, they wouldn't turn against us."
Asher let out a short laugh, but it was devoid of humor. "And you think that would work? That's the most idiotic backup plan I've ever heard."
"It's possible," the commander insisted, though his words carried no personal conviction, only the residual effects of the potion compelling him to speak.
Asher's gaze narrowed. "You're awfully confident for someone who's chained up and spilling secrets. What else are you hiding? What about John, have you met him before?"
"I've never met him," the commander admitted, his voice softening. "I only know his name. But there is one thing..."
Asher leaned in, intrigued. "Spit it out."
"The skies won't miss you when you're gone," the commander said cryptically, his voice hollow yet deliberate.
Asher tilted his head, scrutinizing the man. "That's how he'd identify himself? What does that even mean?"
"I don't know," the commander replied flatly. "That's all I was told. And now, thanks to you and your group, we have to rethink everything. Nothing is going according to plan anymore."
"Oh, I get it now, it's not for you its for him to use so you can identify him." Asher gave an approving nod. "Smart move. That way, you don't have any means of jeopardizing his cover and he could approach you without raising any suspicion. I must say, your king is kinda smart."
The commander's brow furrowed. "My king?"
"Yeah, he's the one pulling the strings from behind the scenes, right?" Asher chimed in with a sly smirk.
The commander's eyes widened slightly, betraying his shock. "You knew?"
"It's painfully obvious," Asher replied, his tone bordering on smug. "An impatient man waiting for his bride wouldn't sit idly by. He came in person to oversee his troops, but of course, he's not brave enough to stand on the frontlines. And let's not forget that massive tent at the far back of the camp. A dead giveaway."
The commander stared at Asher, astonished by his deductions, his silence betraying his admiration and unease.
Asher's expression turned more serious, his gaze sharp. "One more question. Where's the queen hiding?"
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It's all coming together now. ᕙ(⇀‸↼‵‵)ᕗ