Chapter 2: The King's Character

Elara

The days at the court of Valdoria stretched on, filled with ceremonies, meetings, and strict rules that I had no choice but to follow. King Aldric was a merciless man, handling the kingdom's affairs with the coldness of steel, like a master blacksmith polishing his sword. Every decision he made seemed driven by an iron will, marked by his unyielding desire to maintain his power at any cost. The nobles, the generals, even the courtiers, approached him with palpable reverence, knowing that a single misplaced word, a wrong look, or an ill-advised gesture could lead to a violent reprimand, sometimes even execution.

I was only a humble servant, a mere shadow in the vastness of the palace, but even I could not ignore the aura that surrounded the king. People spoke of him as a man of unparalleled cruelty, a man whose difficult youth, marked by constant struggles to seize power, had forged a character without compromise. His rise to the throne had been paved with betrayals and ruthless battles, and since then, he seemed incapable of showing the slightest mercy.

In the palace corridors, the whispers about him never ceased. They said that the king lived for only one thing: control. He had crushed the rebellion in the early years of his reign, and his name had become synonymous with fear and submission. The people of Valdoria didn't care whether he was cruel or not. What they knew was that he maintained order with an iron fist, and that was enough to keep them in silent submission.

I had neither political opinion nor the luxury of questioning his actions. After all, I was just a servant. But as the days passed, I began to feel the weight of this regime, the oppression that permeated every corner of the palace. Even among the servants, there were furtive glances, muffled whispers. They all knew that the slightest misstep could be fatal.

Yet, despite the unwavering authority he imposed, there were moments when I sensed a strange vulnerability in Aldric. One evening, as I was cleaning the grand banquet hall, I saw him through a window. He stood alone on the terrace, facing the glow of the moon, contemplating the stars. A dark silhouette in the night, lost in thought. A shiver of curiosity passed through me. Who could understand this king, the one who instilled terror yet sometimes seemed so isolated?

That night, I understood that Aldric's cruelty didn't stem solely from his insatiable thirst for power, but from something deeper: a loneliness he had never learned to fill. His abrupt gestures, his piercing gaze, were merely walls he built around himself to protect him, like armor forged through years of pain and betrayal.

But none of this was apparent to the courtiers. No one saw the man behind the king. They didn't understand that, outside the throne room, Aldric was nothing but a mystery, a man marked by invisible wounds, carefully concealed beneath his impassive mask. The rumors said he had never known love or friendship, that he had sacrificed all forms of tenderness to achieve absolute power.

Yet I, on the other hand, felt something different. I was just a servant, but every time I crossed his gaze, I felt that invisible tension, that inner struggle he carried. The court was a battlefield for him, but unlike the war he waged against his people, this battle seemed solitary. He fought against inner demons, demons that had shaped him into a man no one understood.

I didn't know where this would lead, but I felt that, in one way or another, our paths would cross in a deeper way. That simple exchange of glances, during our first meeting, had already planted questions and doubts within me. Maybe this cruel king wasn't as unyielding as he wanted to appear. Maybe he was more human than I had believed. But was that an illusion on my part? A daydream of a young servant? Only time would tell.

For now, he continued to reign supreme over his kingdom, while I carried on with my daily tasks, unaware of what was already unfolding in the shadows.