Chapter 20: The Queen

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Queen Leiyuneth stood in her grand room within the walls of Iron Hold, her gaze fixed upon the window that overlooked the influx of refugees from various villages around Wildaron. By her side stood Haldrom, an old man dressed in bluish garb and trousers, his hand tightly clenched behind his back.

"How many refugees do we have so far, Haldrom?" Queen Leiyuneth inquired.

Haldrom, his expression somber, replied, "We are nearing 9,000 refugees, my Queen."

The answer didn't sit well with Queen Leiyuneth, her disappointment apparent. She spoke in a calm but resolute tone, "Order the captains to recruit all the able-bodied men and women into the ranks. They must earn every scrap of food they receive within these walls."

She continued, her words weighted with a sense of urgency, "And close the gates immediately. Any more arrivals, and we will struggle to feed ourselves."

Haldrom bowed respectfully, acknowledging the Queen's commands. "As you wish, my Queen," he replied before hastening out of the grand room to carry out her orders.

As Queen Leiyuneth approached a small table adorned with prepared type of pastries, a knock resounded from the door. The door opened slowly, revealing a fully armored dark skin man with long auburn hair and beard. His expression carried seriousness. His armored adorn with gold intricate carvings of mystic creatures. On his back, attached a huge circular iron shield with 4 stones in place.

"My Queen, the sparrows we sent to Emerald Coast, Rha'lo, Drylot, and Rihm have returned just moments ago," the soldier reported. "I'm afraid I bear bad news. None of them have answered the call for aid, Your Grace. At this moment, they are proclaiming their own Kings to rule their realm."

The Queen flinched at the disappointing news and quickly inquired, "Does Dhul'ar,Widowsreach and Ughren doing the same?"

The soldier responded swiftly, his tone heavy, " Im afraid so, Your Grace."

Frustration surged within Queen Leiyuneth, and she gripped her tiny spoon tightly, nearly bending it. "We must act swiftly. This is an act treachery, we can take these regional kings heads on a pike." she declared with determination.

The soldier, his disappointment evident, tried to explain, "I believe without a king, we have no power to do so."

The Queen's patience reached its limit, and she picked up her cup, hurling it forcefully at the window. "nonsense!" she exclaimed, her frustration echoing through the room.

The soldier, composed despite the tension, offered an explanation, "Your Grace, please allow me to clarify the delicate matter at hand. The authority to proclaim a new king is vested solely in the hands of the Ten Lords, as prescribed by the ancient laws that have guided our realm for generations. However, with the lamentable absence of both the Ten Lords and our beloved King, our once united single realm now faces a profound dilemma."

His eyes reflecting the weight of the situation, the soldier continued, "Each region, now left to its own, will naturally revert to its former state. The unity we once cherished, forged under the reign of one King, has been severed. In the wake of this upheaval, every region will seek to protect its own lands, fortifying their borders, and preparing to defend themselves amidst the chaos of war.

Furthermore, The Wildaron elders and us four Generals, will have an assembly this coming dawn to proclaim a King of our choosing."

The soldier's voice remained steady as he spoke, but an undercurrent of concern was evident, "Your place as a Queen will end by the break of dawn."

The Queen's words "Tell me, General Armel, what do I have to do?!" The soldier's eyes widened in shock at the severity of the Queen's statement.

He slowly rose from his position,  "I suggest you run away along with the prince." he proposed, his eyes locked with hers. "I'll arrange for a contingent of soldiers to escort you and ensure your safety. Head west, where you can find refuge among the common folk. But you must change your appearance, adopt disguises to blend in with the people."

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