The wooden-and-black marble corridor winds through the numerous lefts and rights until it leads to the white corridor’s entrance. He takes a sturdy foot on the tall step. Along the white corridor are numerous doors to the right, the left opens to a wide yard, where the servants tidy and don their attires. Following, he chanced upon the busy kitchen with its cooks and servants going in and out. He continues to walk briskly, entering the red-marbled space. After passing the huge banquet Hall, he climbs the stairs. Arriving at the stone floor, he turns right and walks along the red-marbled alley. Turning left at the end, he reached his destination.

The man is clad in a brown cloak upon a crisp blue tunic. His wooly pants, distinct from the rest of his attire, seemingly clasp on his lower half. Holding various scrolls under his hands, he knocks on the royal wooden door, thrice. Pauses then knocks Twice.

“You may enter, Byron.”

He pushes the door open, enters the room, places his various articles on the desk nearby, and then closes the door behind him.

“Oh, Your Highness, have I intruded on your teatime?”

He finds a guest adjacent to the princess.

“Not at all. I was just sharing my tea with Harold here. Your presence is always welcome.”

She waves her hand and calls him near for tea, which he politely refuses.

“Greetings, His Highness Harold, Prince of Deurkotolia.”, he greets with a curt bow.

He waves his hand, requesting to do away with the greetings, “Greetings, Byron, the wise and swift messenger of Princess Aida.”, says so after a sip.

“I’m honored.”

“So, why have you sought me, this early in the dawn?”, she asks, facing him.

“It’s the fresh reports, m’lady.”

She gestures to “Go on”.

He hesitates, looking at the prince.

“I have called Harold to listen to your reports.”

“Yes, I’ve come to learn the worldly affairs from you, since these days the palace has turned into a coop.”

“Ah...”, he smiles, “Yes... The first report”, he searches for it in the pile of scrolls. Then he begins,

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“The Saurip’s have added some more recipients to their letters, especially from the west”

The prince’s face falls, the princess’ unchanged.

“Second report, the conducts of the southern nobles are not trustworthy. There are many suspected heavy agreements behind the curtains of business.”

“Not Unusual. It has been for decades.” She speaks.

“Yes, Your Highness, but it has been confirmed at present.”, Byron replies. Then continues,

“Third report; Marquis Ahar has, with verification, contacted the Braubirs. A week prior.”

The prince became aggravated, his face a mix of shock and refutation but before he could rise.

“It has happened, at last.” She sighs, for the Sauripians have broken the last twig that held the order. “I never thought the first contact would be the Marquis.”

“Unfortunate.” Byron agrees with a sad nod.

The prince: “Inconceivable! The Marquis is–”

“Harold.” She eyes him. He calms down, then adds “but I have known him from my years of rite…”

“Yes, I too have known him, and that is how I came upon his long letters addressing the Paharvate.”

The prince was crestfallen as he realized, the broken twig, dreadfully.

She gestures to Byron, to continue.

“Now, the reports from outside:”

“Fourth report, the conflict in the Kingdom of Apparvié had reached the point of breakdown with Duke Marlejó declaring along with the left Saungrids against the crown. His intentions are without doubt, the crown.”

Reactionless but with a nod from the princess, he continues,

“Lastly, we have had a report from the Empire”, he curls his lower lip in, and sighs, “The worst report so far.”

“The Stand in Pairnik is disintegrating, the messages are bloodier by the day. In the last confrontation, the casualties amounted to 3000 for the Empire and close to 8,000 for the combined army. They are forced to call the reserves and the Temple knights. The empire is requesting troops after reluctance at our supplies. A matter of days until the temple turns to the Saurip’s.”

“The sentiments of the people are turning worse with the strain on food, soldiers are turning grim, and Invasions are occurring around the eastern bordering the monster-region. Nations are wary and politics is taut with tension.”

“That is all, Your Highness.” He sighs. The prince’s face is bleeding terror.

The princess rises, and she turns to the outside visible from the gap between the two tall glasses.

“There is blood and steel everywhere, maladies run rampant, all signs of the Demon.”

“All hope is not lost, since the same Lord who cursed us the Demon, must be capable to bless us a light-bearer.”

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