King's Trust

The night had fallen quietly over the war camp, though silence was a rarity in a place where tens of thousands of men prepared for battle.

Kael stood outside his tent, his cloak swaying gently in the wind.

His breath fogged before him as he stared toward the dark horizon, mind turning over the coming mission.

It was then that he noticed a figure approaching through the torchlit haze. A messenger in royal colors.

"My lord," the man said, bowing. "His Majesty requests your presence immediately."

Kael raised an eyebrow, more curious than surprised. "At this hour?"

"Yes, my lord. In his tent. He insisted."

Kael nodded, slipping his gloves back on. "Tell him I'm on my way."

The messenger bowed again before hurrying back toward the heart of the camp.

Kael entered the King's tent a few moments later, brushing aside the heavy flap of canvas.