Forged in Flame

A Court Divided

When Arin and her companions finally crossed the kingdom's gates and approached the palace, they were met by a royal guard bearing a message. It was a formal invitation to the court, demanding Arin's immediate presence. The summons came as no surprise—word of her return had spread like wildfire through the streets, and the court was eager to assess the legitimacy of her claim after her absence.

Flanked by her companions—Rethis, Lyria, and Thorne—Arin made her way through the grand corridors of the palace. The palace had once been a place of comfort for her, a symbol of her family's legacy. Now, it felt different. Every step echoed with a sense of foreboding, as if the walls themselves were judging her.

As they reached the grand hall, the doors were opened by palace attendants. The room beyond was awash in the opulence of the kingdom: glittering chandeliers, deep crimson tapestries, and a floor so polished it reflected the nobles gathered there. The nobles, dressed in their finest silks and adorned with jewels, were seated in rows, their eyes immediately turning toward the group as they entered. There was a heavy tension in the air, an unspoken weight pressing down on the room.

The grand halls of the royal court were a far cry from the dangerous swamps and treacherous peaks the group had just traversed. As they entered the throne room, the ornate decorations, glittering chandeliers, and richly dressed nobles made it clear that Arin's battle was now one of politics. Whispers of her return had spread quickly, and the nobles, once her father's loyal subjects, now watched her with calculating eyes.

Arin could feel their stares—some curious, some sceptical, and others outright hostile. These were the very people her father had ruled, once loyal to the Tsunhime dynasty. Now, they watched her as if she were an untested pretender.

"Announcing the return of Princess Arin Tsunhime," called the herald, his voice booming across the chamber.

Whispers fluttered among the nobles as Arin stepped forward. Her companions followed closely behind, but it was clear that the court's eyes were on her alone. Rethis shot a glance at Arin, sensing the unease. The court was filled with faces they couldn't yet trust—nobles with their own ambitions, who might be swayed by Seric's manipulations.

At the far end of the hall, the throne loomed large and empty. To the side, on a smaller, less ornate seat, sat Seric, dressed in rich robes and a smile that dripped with false sincerity. His presence at court, in such a prominent position, was a clear message: Seric had woven himself into the heart of the kingdom's politics during Arin's absence. He was now positioned as the 'advisor' to the throne, but everyone knew his ambitions lay far beyond mere counsel.

"Princess Arin," Seric said, his voice silky as he rose to his feet. "Welcome back to the kingdom. Your return is a relief to many... though some have been questioning your absence."

The subtle accusation in his words didn't go unnoticed, and Arin's fists clenched at her sides. Still, she kept her expression composed. This was no longer the battlefield she had been fighting on—this was a different kind of war, one fought with words and alliances.

As they approached the throne, General Kael stood from his seat. His presence immediately commanded respect, his broad shoulders and silver hair marking him as a seasoned warrior. He had served her father for years, and his loyalty was unwavering.

"Arin," Kael greeted her with a respectful bow, his voice gruff but warm. "It's good to see you've returned safely. The kingdom has been tense in your absence."

Arin allowed herself a small smile, appreciating his directness. "It's good to be back, General. I trust you've kept the peace?"

Kael's expression darkened slightly. "I've done what I can, but Seric's influence has grown. He's found a way to worm his way into the minds of those who should know better. The nobles, the people... many of them are questioning whether you can protect the kingdom."

Arin's jaw tightened. "We'll have to prove them wrong."

The general gave a slight nod but remained silent. His presence was a reminder that while she had powerful allies, they were outnumbered by those whose loyalties had shifted during Seric's rise.

As Seric continued to speak, weaving his manipulations into the conversation, Arin felt the eyes of the court upon her, judging her every movement. This was her chance to prove herself—to assert her right to the throne and silence the doubts that had been sown in her absence. And she knew that Seric would be watching her every move, ready to strike at the first sign of weakness.

Arin kept her chin high, but the weight of their judgment was heavy. Her return to the kingdom wasn't met with the respect and admiration she had hoped for. The uncertainty that plagued the court was palpable. Many of the nobles appeared undecided, waiting to see if she would prove herself a capable ruler or fall prey to Seric's growing influence.

She wasn't about to let him win.

Arin and her group presented the dragon's remains as proof of their victory over the Ashen Peaks. The scales shimmered in the torchlight, and the dragon's tooth—a relic of their harrowing battle—was undeniable evidence of their triumph. Whispers rippled through the court as the nobles examined the artefacts. For a brief moment, Arin could see the doubt wavering in their eyes.

General Kael, standing by her side, nodded approvingly. "This will give them something to think about," he muttered under his breath.

Seric, however, was not so easily deterred. "Impressive," he said, his voice loud enough for the entire court to hear. "But slaying a dragon is not the same as ruling a kingdom. The people need a ruler who can do more than fight monsters—they need someone who can unite them."

The court murmured in agreement, and Arin's heart sank. Seric was twisting the narrative, making her victory seem insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

As the court session ended for the time being, Arin returned to her chambers, her mind racing. Rethis was already there, pacing by the window, his brow furrowed in thought.

"You can't let him get to you," Rethis said, his voice quiet but firm. "Seric's playing the long game. He's trying to undermine you slowly, piece by piece. We have to be strategic."

Arin sighed, collapsing into a chair. "I know. But it feels like every move I make, he's already ten steps ahead."

Rethis crossed the room and knelt beside her, his hand resting on her arm. "You're stronger than him, Arin. You've already proven it. Now we just need to outsmart him. Use the dragon's remains to your advantage. The people love a hero, and you've just brought them proof of one."

She looked at him, feeling the weight of his words. Rethis was right—this wasn't just about brute strength. It was about winning hearts and minds, and she couldn't let Seric steal that from her.

---

The next day, Arin began her political manoeuvring. She met with key nobles, leveraging the dragon's defeat to build alliances and counter Seric's influence. General Kael stood by her, his military experience invaluable in gaining the trust of those who valued strength and loyalty. However, it wasn't enough to sway everyone, and Seric's manipulations continued to cast a shadow over the court.

Behind the scenes, Rethis worked tirelessly to uncover Seric's plans, using his own reputation and influence to bolster Arin's position. Yet, as he spent more time strategizing, his personal feelings for both Arin and Lyria began to cloud his judgment. The tension between them was palpable, and it was becoming harder to separate politics from emotion.

Arin, too, struggled. Her growing attachment to Rethis and the pressure of the court weighed heavily on her. She couldn't afford distractions, but with Seric breathing down her neck, it was becoming harder to keep her focus.