𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 ━━━━━ 𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒕

• V

"My father, he knows where we are." Once the words left Dahlia's lips, there was no going back. Timothée stood up abruptly, his entire figure was shaking.

"How do you know this?" His voice trembled at the thought of her father's men marching on their camp.

"This was given to me at breakfast." Dahlia reached across the table and placed the parchment down. One end of the wax seal was still attached. In the minimal light brought by the scattered candles, anyone could see that it was from the King. Upon seeing it, Timothée sucked in a breath. He snatched it and proceeded to pace back and forth. He was muttering the words with a harsh tone. Then, in an instant, Timothée stopped and turned to the open flap of the tent.

"Adrian!" He called out to his friend, who was guarding just outside. Adrian walked in and waited silently for a command.

"What did he look like?" Timothée directed his question to Dahlia.

"Pardon?" Dahlia was confused. His nostrils flared.

"The man who gave you this letter. What did he look like?" With each passing second, Timothée grew more impatient.

"He must have been a few years older than me. He was very skinny and had long blond hair. His bone structure was rather sharp. A little daunting, I guess. He was dirty too. Like he's been working in fields or maybe the stables." Dahlia confessed. Timothée turned to Adrian and they shared a look.

"Gather every man in this camp with that description. Send a group of men to the edge of the forest outside the entrance of the camp. Take them hostage. Bring all of them to the training ground." Adrian nodded and set off on his mission, calling many other men to help him. When his friend was out of sight, Timothée sat in a chair and ran his hands down his face.

"Why do you torture me so?" The question wasn't directed to Dahlia, rather it seemed to be directed to some sort of divine being. His face pointed up like he was trying to communicate with their Gods. An hour of silence passed over them. Both were unwilling to communicate about the threat that lays in their very wake.  Adrian walks in, a serious look painted across his features. No words needed to be expressed for the severity of their situations.

He leads Timothée and Dahlia to the training grounds. Though the night was pitch black, the moonlight and torches provided some assistance. Dahlia saw a line of about twenty men on their knees. They all shared the same characteristics that she described. It was then that they spent many minutes dragging them one by one to Dahlia and Timothée's feet. When a new man was brought towards them, Timothée would ask the same droning question.

"Is this the man?" Simple and curt, but very repetitive. Dahlia would reply with the same word.

"No."

It wasn't until one man was dragged up that Dahlia knew. It was him. Her face wavered and her mouth opened a little in shock. Timothée already knew the answer. He could read her expression. He just had to wait for confirmation. Swallowing back her pride, Dahlia muttered two little words.