Chapter 1: Shadows at the Gates

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The sky above the kingdom of Valoria was the deep purple hue of twilight, tinged with the amber glow of the setting sun. It was a rare moment of peace as the royal court gathered for the Harvest Festival, a celebration of prosperity and renewal. Musicians played lively tunes, the scent of roasted meats and sweet wine filled the air, and nobles danced beneath lantern-lit trees.

But Princess Arabelle of Valoria could not shake the feeling that something was amiss. From her seat on the raised dais beside her parents, she scanned the crowd. Laughter and smiles were plentiful, yet an unspoken tension lingered, like a storm waiting to break.

Arabelle adjusted the golden circlet that crowned her dark, wavy hair, the weight of it a reminder of her responsibilities. She wasn't the kind of princess who enjoyed lavish parties or idle chatter; she thrived in the quiet moments of strategy meetings, during late-night conversations with her trusted advisor, Lord Thallan. But tonight, Thallan was conspicuously absent.

Her brow furrowed as she glanced toward the empty chair beside her. The king and queen appeared unconcerned, their faces plastered with the regal calm expected of royalty. But Arabelle knew her father, King Aeron, better than that. His hand clutched his wine goblet a bit too tightly, and every so often, his gaze drifted toward the shadows that gathered near the palace gates.

She couldn't stay still any longer.

"Mother, Father, if you'll excuse me," Arabelle said, her voice soft but firm as she rose from her chair. King Aeron barely acknowledged her, his attention elsewhere, but Queen Selene gave her a sharp look.

"Where are you going, Arabelle?" Selene asked, her eyes narrowing. "The festival is just beginning."

"Lord Thallan isn't here," Arabelle replied. "He was supposed to join us. I want to make sure everything is alright."

Queen Selene's expression softened, but only slightly. "Be quick. It wouldn't do to have the princess vanish from her own celebration."

With a nod, Arabelle slipped away from the royal table, the silk of her gown brushing against the stone floor. Her heart quickened as she made her way through the winding corridors of the palace, toward Thallan's quarters.

The deeper she went into the castle, the quieter it became. The muffled sounds of laughter and music from the courtyard faded into eerie silence. Only the soft patter of her own footsteps accompanied her as she approached the heavy oak door that led to Thallan's chambers.

Something was wrong.

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