Ride to the seven kingdoms: Lilly of the Nile.

Chapter 23

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  Her father’s gaze was icy, his expression unreadable. "Cecilia." He acknowledged curtly. "I see you’ve brought company."

  Cecilia's father stood before her, an imposing figure whose presence commanded the room. His features were chiseled and stern, a testament to years of leadership and unyielding authority. His eyes, cold and calculating, seemed to pierce through anyone they focused on, betraying no warmth or empathy. They were the eyes of a man who had seen and done much to secure his throne, a man who had weathered countless storms and emerged hardened by each one.

  The same eyes, she holds.

  Electric blue ocean waves.

  His demeanor was as chilly as his gaze. He carried himself with a rigid posture, every movement precise and deliberate, as if even the slightest show of relaxation might be construed as weakness. The lines etched into his face spoke of a lifetime spent in relentless pursuit of power and control, each one a mark of his enduring resolve.

  Even his silence was threatening. When he listened, it was with an intensity that suggested he was weighing every word, calculating the implications and potential threats. His silence could stretch on uncomfortably, a tool he used to unsettle and dominate those around him.

  Dressed in dark, austere clothing that emphasized his severe persona, he exuded an aura of danger. His presence was a constant reminder of the power he wielded and the lengths he would go to protect his kingdom and his legacy. To many, he was a figure to be feared, a ruler whose iron will could crush any dissent.

  To Cecilia, he was both a father and a formidable obstacle, a man who expected nothing less than perfection and who saw any deviation from his expectations as a direct challenge. In his eyes, there was no room for error, no tolerance for weakness. And as she stood before him, she felt the full weight of his cold, dangerous scrutiny bearing down on her, a test of her own strength and resolve.

  She nodded. "Yes. They are my trusted companions."

  Her father’s eyes flicked to Lysander and Adara, who had joined them, now looking presentable.

  "Good. It is important to show strength and unity." Cecilia bristled at his tone but maintained her composure. "What brings you here, Father?" His expression remained cold. "There are matters of great importance that we must discuss. Security threats, both internal and external. It is time for decisive action."

  The way he spoke reflected his dangerous nature. His voice was measured, clipped, devoid of any emotion that might suggest vulnerability. He chose his words carefully, each one a dagger designed to strike at the heart of any opposition. There was an undercurrent of menace in his tone, a subtle warning that he was not a man to be trifled with.

  Cecilia’s heart pounded, but she kept her voice calm. "We are aware of the threats, and we are taking measures to address them."

  Her father’s gaze bore into hers. "Are you? I have heard otherwise. That there is unrest, disloyalty, and danger lurking within these walls." Cecilia felt a surge of defiance. "We are handling it. With all due respect, Father, this is my kingdom now." A flicker of something—pride, perhaps—passed over her father’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "Then show me. Show me that you are capable of ruling."

  Cecilia took a step forward, her voice unwavering. "I will." She said, and her father continued, his voice cold and measured.

  "The attack at the cliffs has left the village in ruins. Many parts of it are beyond repair, and the villagers are suffering. And yet, you chose to bring only one person with you on your initial visit."