CHAPTER 7:THE LION’S HUNT

The war room of Castle Vaeloria was steeped in tension, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows over the assembled generals, lords, and royal advisors. Maps lay unfurled across the stone table, marked with inked paths and hastily drawn Xs—each one a failed attempt to recapture Seraphina.

At the head of the table stood King Aldric Valeria, his scarred hands clenched into fists as he studied the reports before him. His silver-threaded hair was unkempt, his regal features hard with fury.

His daughter—his only heir—had fled.

And worse, she had chosen to run with a traitor to the empire.

"The riders have returned from the eastern borders," Lord Cedric Valerius reported, his sharp features unreadable. "No sign of the princess."

Aldric's nostrils flared. "And the western patrols?"

"Nothing."

Aldric slammed his fist against the table. "Damn it all! It has been nearly a week, and my daughter is still missing. Are my soldiers so incompetent?"

His commanders shifted uncomfortably. None dared meet his gaze.

The truth was evident—Seraphina and Kael were slipping through their grasp.

Aldric took a steady breath, then turned to Cedric. "She is heading for the north. That much is certain."

Cedric's lips curled into a smirk. "The Veilwood."

Murmurs spread through the war council. The Veilwood Forest was an ancient, cursed place, known for its enchantments and dangers. Few who entered ever returned.

Aldric met Cedric's gaze. "You are not afraid, are you?"

Cedric gave a cold chuckle. "Afraid? No. But the men may hesitate. Superstition lingers, even among trained soldiers."

Aldric stepped forward, his eyes burning with determination. "Then let their fear be silenced. I want every scout, every tracker, every blade at our disposal searching that accursed forest."

He turned to his council. "Seraphina is my daughter. And I will not allow her to be taken from me."

There was a chilling finality in his voice.

The hunt had begun in earnest.

An Emperor's Influence

Far beyond Vaeloria, in the golden-lit halls of Zephirion, Emperor Darius Velmorian sat upon his obsidian throne, watching as another messenger knelt before him.

"King Aldric's search has intensified, Your Majesty," the man reported. "He has begun sending forces into the Veilwood."

Darius smiled. "How predictable."

A goblet of dark wine rested in his hand, swirling lazily as he contemplated the pieces on the board. Aldric, for all his strength, was desperate. That desperation would make him reckless.

And reckless men were easy to manipulate.

Darius turned to his royal sorcerer, an elder man draped in violet robes. "Send word to Aldric. Remind him of our… agreement."

The sorcerer bowed. "And if he fails?"

Darius's smirk darkened. "Then we claim what is ours."

His golden eyes gleamed. The throne of Vaeloria would fall soon enough.

To Be Continued...