Fate of the Marked

Betrayed

Cedric's gaze flicked toward her, then back to the King. "I know her reputation, my King. But she's just one mage, and I am just one knight. Against Astoroth's forces, even we won't be enough."

The King's voice remained calm but firm. "Together, you must be."

As we approached, Sir Cedric's sharp gaze flicked toward us, and he dipped his head slightly in greeting when his eyes landed on Susan. "Lady Susan," he said with a low, formal nod. She responded with a casual wave, her irreverence seemingly natural and unapologetic.

King Alden, on the other hand, didn't bother to hide his distaste. His lined face tightened as his piercing gaze fixed on Susan. "A corrupted priest," he said, his tone heavy with disapproval. "How does that even make sense? A corrupted priest? It's a contradiction in terms."

Susan didn't flinch at his words. Instead, she dipped her head respectfully, her voice steady and composed. "Your Majesty, the title may not sit well with you, but I've worked tirelessly to atone for my past. I've saved more lives since then than I can count."

The King's sharp eyes narrowed, his expression skeptical. "Atone? And yet, you wear that title as though it's a badge of honor. A corrupted priest in my court." His voice carried the weight of disappointment, as if her very presence was an insult to his reign.

Before Susan could respond, Sir Cedric stepped in smoothly, his voice measured but firm. "She's useful, Your Majesty. I've seen her in action. And that... was in her past. Let it go." He held the King's gaze steadily, a silent plea for reason in his tone.

King Alden sighed, leaning back in his throne. His eyes, though still critical, softened marginally as they shifted from Susan to the rest of us. He studied Rowan first, then Eryon, and finally me, his scrutiny sharp and deliberate.

"And who," he said slowly, his voice carrying a regal authority, "might you all be?"

Rowan's voice rang clear and confident. "The reinforcement that you might need," he said.

Eryon and I immediately dropped to one knee, a gesture of respect that came instinctively in the presence of a king. But Rowan? He stood tall, unmoving, his lance steady in his grip. The King's brows furrowed at the perceived slight, his expression hardening.

"With all due respect," King Alden began, his voice sharp, "but I don't even know who you are. You're just a dwarf with a lanc—" He stopped abruptly. His face changed, a flicker of realization crossing it. Then, he clapped his hands together, his voice rising in sudden recognition.

"You must be Rowan Hale!" he exclaimed, his earlier annoyance forgotten.

Eryon and I stood again, exchanging a quick glance. The King's reaction spoke volumes—Rowan's reputation had reached even this place of power. King Alden stepped down from his throne, his interest piqued. I could hear the soft rustle of movement from beside me; Eryon, shifting uncomfortably. Nervous? Perhaps.

"Yes, yes," the King said, his tone lifting with excitement. "You are indeed the reinforcement I was hoping for. And who is it behind you?"

I was about to introduce myself, my mouth already opening, when Eryon moved.

It happened in a flash. He launched himself forward, his axes glinting in the light as he aimed directly for the King's neck.

There was no time to think, no time to react. I braced myself for the sickening sound of flesh meeting steel, for the sight of blood painting the pristine throne room.

Thunk.

Instead of slicing through, Eryon's axes collided with a radiant golden barrier that shimmered into existence before the King. Susan's shield spell.