The Obsidian Veil

Chapter 8 - The King's Silence

        The crowd gathered in the city square, their anxious whispers filling the air, a restless sea of worried faces, as Prince Ronan's message about the war was interrupted by Duke Kent. The news had spread like wildfire, and rumors weighed heavily on the people's hearts.

        As Prince Ronan stepped back, Duke Kent stepped forward on top of a raised platform. His voice was strong as he addressed the people of the city.

        "As the Prince said, the war is indeed real," he declared, "and Verdora is responsible for this aggression. But fear not because thanks to the strength and determination of our King and his valiant troops, Bergette has triumphed. We are victorious!" His words washed over the crowd like a soothing balm, and many sighed in relief. A few, however, remained skeptical, though even they showed signs of hope.

      A few steps behind the duke, Ronan stood silently, his fists clenched. Confusion gnawed at him, but it was quickly overtaken by a surge of anger boiling in his chest.

      "He's giving them false hope," Iria whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief as her brow furrowed. She glanced at Ronan, but he did not respond. His frustration was written clearly on his face, silently agreeing with her assessment.

        Duke Kent moved toward his carriage as the people began to disperse and the soldiers lined up to return to the castle. Ronan, unable to contain himself any longer, quickly followed and reached for the duke's arm. But before he could grasp it, two of the King's soldiers stepped in, blocking his path with apologetic looks.

       "We apologize, Your Highness, but this is by the King's orders," one of the soldiers said, his voice firm yet regretful.

       Ronan's eyes widened in disbelief. The King's orders? His mind raced as he tried to comprehend the meaning behind their words. Why would the King's own men shield the Marshal from him, the crown prince?

       "What are you doing, Duke Kent?" Ronan shouted, his voice raw with anger. "I don't believe this is what the King wants!"

       Iria, watching the confrontation unfold, felt her heart quicken. The tension was escalating, and something inside her snapped. She rushed forward to Ronan's side, but before she could reach him, three of Duke Kent's guards intercepted her, their hands gripping her arms tightly.

        But in an instant, those hands fell away, and the guards crumpled to the ground. Iben stood beside Iria, his face dark, his presence like a storm about to break. His eyes gleamed with quiet menace.

        Ronan turned, taking in the scene behind him, his eyes narrowing as realization dawned. He turned back to Duke Kent, his voice lowering but brimming with fury. 

        "Answer me! The King would never allow harm to come to Iria."

        With his back still to Ronan, Duke Kent paused on the steps of his carriage. He didn't turn, but his voice carried a hint of amusement. 

        "And how do you know this isn't the King's wish?"

        "Because he's my father!" Ronan's voice trembled with restrained rage, each word a testament to the loyalty he still clung to.

          Duke Kent chuckled softly, a sound that sent chills down Ronan's spine, and then he climbed into his carriage without another word. The soldiers of Bergette followed, their armor gleaming in the sky's light as they rode off, leaving a stunned silence in their wake.

        Ronan stood, fists clenched, his chest heaving with frustration. 

        "You handled your anger well, Cedric," he muttered while still looking at the retreating carriage. He noticed his retainer's tense stance beside him. Cedric exhaled sharply, his jaw tight.