A breath of refreshment

Amidst the twilight's embrace, the journalist sat in his study. Cold sweat running down his forehead, wetting the loose strands of his dark brown hair. The evening breeze weaved through his study, the wind touching him as gently and as eerily it could. His hands shook beyond his consciousness about it.

Many scrolls and books and newspaper rolls filled his grey wood desk. The brown parchment lay before him, blank, as his mind grappled with a moral dilemma. Should he inscribe the truth, revealing the horrifying secrets the royal court has been keeping to themselves these past two years from the people of Windspire? If he did, he would be risking the ire of the powerful. Perhaps it'd be King Maximus who would behead him. Or should he veil the truth to protect himself and his kin?

The quill hovered as he recalled what the estate servant of the royal advisor Thornehaven told him. His eyes went to the small notepad he always carried with himself. The page on which he took the old butler's answers was open to his view.

The rustling leaves outside seemed to whisper both caution and encouragement. He pondered the consequences, his convictions warring with the shadows of doubt.

Yet, deep within, the ember of the truth burned bright. The stories untold, the injustices concealed, the people here had the right to know what was going on. No matter what, he had nothing to lose, really. If he was to die anyway, he may as well die knowing that he served his motherland with the truth being told.

He took a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill his lungs.

The decision was made.

With a steady move, Cedric dipped the quill into the ink, and the pen met the paper. The truth, however bitter and perilous, would find its way into the world. It was a duty he could not abandon, despite the risks. His life was on the line, but he couldn't care less anymore. They already took him to the advisor. If he didn't find the advisor dead, Cedric might as well as be dead himself by now.

And so the words flowed as the night came by. Torrent of truth and courage, shaping the fate of both the journalist and the kingdom he sought to enlighten.

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Right at the same time, the foreign royal forts were enlightened, as the royalty from the neighboring kingdom of Amadeus were visiting Windspire for a quite long time.

In the heart of the opulent fortress, a grand dining area sprawled with magnificence. Tall marble columns lined the edges, each intricately carved and adorned with golden accents. The ceiling soared high, with ornate chandeliers that cast a warm, golden glow over the expansive room. Elaborate tapestries decorated the walls, depicting the tales of valor and grandeur.

The dining table was carved from rare dark wood. It stretched endlessly, embellished with delicate gold leaf patterns. The table was adorned with gleaming silverware, crystal goblets, and porcelain plates. Detailed sculptures and floral centerpieces, brimming with fresh, vibrant blossoms, punctuated the grandeur.

At the head of the table sat the prince. His attire was nothing short of regal elegance. Adorned in a finely tailored doublet, richly embroidered with gold thread, he exuded an air of sophistication. The fabric shimmered under the soft glow of the chandeliers.

A pendant hung from a fine chain around his neck. The pendant was of a half moon crescent symbol. His fingers bore rings embedded with precious gemstones. His gold eyes were keen, observant, and unreadable.

The aroma of the sumptuous feast permeated the air as he cut down his steak and took a piece elegantly. No one was allowed in the dining area when he dined. The only sounds were made through the clinking metal noise of his cutleries, and faint chewing of his meat.

Suddenly, two knocks pressed on the huge closed doors of the dining room.

"Come in," He said after a pause.

The door creaked open, a young butler stepped inside and bowed. "Your Majesty, His highness Prince Johann of Windspire has come here. He's seeking an audience with you."

Prince Dylan's brow creased in amusement. "Let him in."

Now, his supper was going to get more interesting.

The doors flew open, many of the royal guards, wearing the navy blue and white armours, got it and positioned them at the sides of the room. A half crescent of a moon symbol was crested right on their chests. Another batch of guards entered the dining room. They wore crimson red and black armours, with a dragon's head as their crests. The royal guards of the Kingdom of Amadeus Court were emitting a stark contrast against the guards of the Kingdom of Windspirean Court.

Then entered the prince of Windspire, his head up high, posture too perfect and cold unreadble, eyes dead set on Prince Dylan.

Despite the fuming aura Prince of Windspire was emitting, the Prince of Amadeus decided to give out the brightest of his fakest smiles to greet him. After all, this cheerful facade is what kept every single one of them dancing by the tip of his fingers.

"Prince Johann." He beamed brightly as ever as he put down his cutlery. "How come I owe your absolute presence? Please, join me." He didn't even bother to stand up and greet him. Instead, he gestured to the sit beside him.

That hurt Johann's pride real bad. But he masked it. "Prince Dylan, I am content to remain standing. My purpose here is simply to inquire about your impressions of Windspire thus far."

Without answering his words, Dylan pulled out a chair with his one hand in a swift move and gestured down to it. "Please, my father would not approve if he heard that I allowed the prince of our neighboring kingdom to stand while I sat."

His gaze pierced through Johann's emerald in a battling manner. It was as if the eyes were speaking in its own way.

See, I've already got to you. I order you, it's not the other way around.

Johann, unable to protest further, slipped himself beside Dylan. Meanwhile, Dylan gestured to the servants standing around the room to remove the dishes and his plate and get wine for the royalty.

"Windspire has been unexpectedly generous to me. The food, the culture, the people, the shores, the forests—all of it amuses me. It's a breath of refreshment from the suffocating hilly humidity of the southern kingdom where I belong." He uttered in one breath just as Johann sat down.

A small smirk appeared on Johann's pale face. "Pray, Your Grace, if I may. Is it the consequence of being the youngest among the seven heirs or perhaps a disinterest in Amadeus' throne? Do you not long for your own kingdom? It has been a span of twenty-four months in our care."

"It's actually the both, me being the youngest and my lack of interest in acquiring the throne. And how can I think about my home, where your subjects have been treating me like this land have been my second home ever since?"

The wine had arrived; the maids poured the velvet red liquid into the oval-shaped wine glass. Prince Dylan gave no chance for Prince Johann to reply. He quickly gave out the second glass to Johann.

"And why don't we continue our conversation on the terrace, over a few rounds of poker?" Dylan clicked his glass with his. "You can play poker, right?" a devilish smile creeped on his lips.