Ruler of Angels | The Royal Legacies Series

| 𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 |

𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 |𝖓| 𝖆 𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖞 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖎𝖓𝖛𝖔𝖑𝖛𝖊𝖉 𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 (𝖚𝖘𝖚𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗) 𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙

It's lucky Thronal was the first to find Felimid the next morning. The man decided to skip dinner the day before and breakfast. No one, even the guards who were told to be on the lookout, couldn't find him.

"How would I, the oldest one here, be able to find you here?"

Felimid turns to look at the elf but can't seem to say anything. Thronal sighs and comes to sit next to him. Sitting against the hidden wall of the courtyard was a smart choice.

"Are the others doing okay?"

"Do I look like I'm here to talk about them?"

The elf looks at him, but he doesn't make emotion with his face, clearly not wanting to give the wrong impression.

"Must you be the wise one?"

"How many times will I end up hearing that before I die?"

Felimid chuckles, a reaction the other was hoping for, "Well, Felimid..."

"I know, Thronal."

"Oh?"

The advisor raises an eyebrow, "Do you?"

The mercenary rolls his eyes, "Don't do that to me."

"Do what?"

"Act like an advisor."

Thronal smiles, "That's a bit hard to do, isn't it?"

An eye roll is all he receives. It goes back to silence. A nice comfortable silence.

The air was bitter. Winter is already upon them but the snow isn't expected for a few more days. They said this would be one of their worst winters. It didn't do much other than mess up the ease of trade and a good amount of the poor were left in freezing temperatures.

Vaeril lightly mentioned something about the mostly empty barns being put to the use of housing those who need it.

Although cold, Felimid felt more at home than he has since yesterday, "Are you going to tell me what's wrong or will I have to pry it out of you?"

Felimid smiles, but it's barely a curve of his lips, "I- I missed those guys, but at the same time I wish I never saw them."

"I assume this is about the...murder attempt?"

"Well he hasn't tried anything yet, but clearly there's enough talk of it around for them to come and tell me personally."

Thronal nods, "And I assume you know who it is, don't you?"

The mercenary sighs once more and leans forward slightly, "I do."

"Did he mean a lot to you?"

He hesitates, "Not in the way you'd think he did. This man was...almost a father figure. Not really. I can't deny I hate the man, but at the same time the fact that he wants me dead..."

The advisor says nothing, "I have no idea as to why!"

He stands up abruptly and groans, "He trained me! He taught me! What made him change?"

Thronal does nothing once more and lets the man get his anger out by spewing nonsense and moving dramatically back and forth.

Felimid suddenly pauses, "Thronal?"