The Gunpowder

Noori rode her horse down the slippery mountain, the knee-deep snow crunching beneath their hooves. Her breath came out in angry puffs, the red glow in her eyes evidence of her frustration.

"Father, I hope you have a good reason for this," she muttered through gritted teeth, her anger palpable in the frosty air.

The snowy wind whipped against her skin, and as the flakes touched her cheek, they sizzled into steam. After a long ride, she spotted a blinding light emanating from within the trees in the distance. The light, with its reddish glow, starkly contrasted against the pristine white of the snow.

"That must be it," she muttered to herself, urgency propelling her forward. With a swift gallop, she made her way towards the light, soon reaching the heart of the forest. There, on a wide expanse of frozen ice, she found what she sought. The lake lay frozen to its core in the frosty cold, and at its center, a red globe danced upon the surface.

Noori exhaled heavily, the misty breath hanging in the frigid air, before dismounting her horse and tying it to the looming trees around her. With cautious steps, she ventured onto the ice, her gaze fixated on the pulsating red globe.

As she drew closer, she extended her hand, reaching out to touch the radiating orb. The moment her finger made contact, the glow vanished in a brilliant blink, leaving behind a crackling shell that fell into Noori's palm. Slowly, she cracked open the shell, revealing the scroll hidden within.

Before unraveling it, she took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with anticipation. With careful fingers, she unfurled the scroll, its ancient parchment crackling softly as it unfolded. 

Noori's eyes scanned the text, her brow furrowing in concentration as she delved into the cryptic message. Each word seemed to carry weight, each line a revelation waiting to be uncovered. But as her gaze moved across the final sentence, a shockwave of realisation washed over her, causing her eyes to widen with astonishment.

"F-father!" she gasped involuntarily, her voice trembling with a mixture of awe and disbelief. And in that moment of profound revelation, the parchment within her grasp ignited with an otherworldly flame, the flames licking hungrily at the ancient script as if eager to consume its secrets.

Noori staggered back, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the flames dance and writhe upon the parchment. The words she had just read seemed to echo in her mind, their significance weighing heavily upon her.

With a steady hand, she tore her gaze away from the inferno and pressed the burning scroll to her chest, extinguishing the flames with a hiss. 

"Where is she?" Azorius's voice thundered through the room as he paced back and forth, his agitation palpable in the air. Dastan lay upon the bed motioness, while Zand stood nearby, his expression tense with anticipation. It had been three long hours since Zand had dispatched the message to Noori, yet there was still no sign of the princess.

Azorius's patience wore thin, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. How dare she keep him waiting? Not only had she brazenly burned down an entire palace, nearly taking his son's life in the process, but now she had the audacity to delay her arrival at the main palace after being graciously invited. It was an insult he could scarcely tolerate.

The tension in the room was palpable, the silence broken only by the sound of Azorius's heavy footsteps as he continued to pace.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a messenger rushed into the room, breathless and wide-eyed. "Your Majesty, forgive the interruption," he gasped, his voice trembling with urgency. "Princess Noori has arrived at the palace gates."

Azorius's eyes narrowed, a glimmer of relief flickering within them. At last, she had arrived. But his anger still simmered beneath the surface, 

"Bring her in." He commanded and then took a seat across his son's bed where Dastan slept peacefully without a worry of the world. 

Through the open door, Noori entered the room, her presence commanding attention as she moved with a grace that belied her fiery reputation. She was dressed in formal attire, her hair elegantly tied into a long braid, with a delicate tiara adorning her forehead. As she stepped into the room, her gaze first fell upon Zand, offering him a brief but unexpected smile that caught him off guard for the second time that day.

With a slight shift in his seating position, Azorius reclaimed the aura of a king, commanding the dynamic of the room before speaking. "I suppose you are aware of why I invited you here?" he began, referring to the burnt palace that lay in ruins. 

Noori kept her gaze low, nodding in acknowledgment. "Yes, I know of it."

"Do you have an explanation for it? Do you realize that people are referring to this act as an attack on the lineage of the Solyrian kingdom, and that an enemy's princess wishes to end the life of their crown–"

"I would never do such a thing, especially to my husband," Noori interjected instantly, her expression deeply remorseful, catching Azorius and Zand off guard. "Huh?" Azorius couldn't help but ask with a baffled tone.

Noori spoke with sincerity, "In Nuria, the husband is granted the highest of status, and for me to think of anything but good for him would be nothing less than a sin for me." She looked up at Azorius, her voice pure and her gaze unwavering. "I understand that the fire incident took place in the palace coincidentally at the same time as our arrival, but–" She paused, making Azorius frown.

"But?" he prompted.

"I know, Your Highness, that you would not believe me if I said it, but I am telling you this with experience from the battlefield. It seems that some people might not be very happy with this marriage and thus are trying to bring a rift between the two countries once again," she explained.

Both Azorius and Zand leaned in, intrigued by her words.

"This is nonsense!" Zand growled instantly, causing Noori to turn her head around slightly, her gaze now holding a different expression, one of determination.

"Zand!" Azorius spoke with authority, halting him. "My apologies, Your Majesty," Zand apologized immediately, his fist tightening. Azorius then looked at Noori and asked, "What makes you think that it is the trickery of someone?"

"I will let you know, but only if you give me your word that you will not treat my words as those of a Nuria princess, but as the crown princess of this nation and the wife to your son," she said, her neck straight and high.

Azorius was taken aback by her request, but he silently watched as she looked at him in the eyes with nothing but honesty. Despite his contempt for her, seeing honesty in her eyes compelled him to half-heartedly nod in agreement. "You have my word," he said in a plain tone, to which Noori's lip slid up in a faint smile.

"Your Majesty, my King, we found remnants of gunpowder in the ashes of the palace. Here is the proof," she continued, clapping her hands as two Solyrian men entered, carrying a sack of black mass. "I made them bring it here so that you can see for yourself that this is one of the last unburnt gunpowders that was left. And you can ask these men where they found it. Everyone knows that we just arrived here, and our luggage was thoroughly checked, so we couldn't have brought it along. Which leaves us with just one question: why was there so much gunpowder in a palace where there was a clear threat of fire?" She spoke with a slightly deepening tone, her gaze shifting to Zand, who saw through her actions but couldn't say anything as he was no match for Noori's cunning.