As the audience came to an end, Ameth left the room, the grand chamber doors closing slowly behind him. The hall, where the assembly of lords had gathered just moments ago, now stood empty, with only a few guards present. In a distant corner, Auburn conversed privately with a royal cleric. Upon noticing Ameth, he politely excused himself from the conversation and approached him with a graceful stride.
Ameth's mind continued to race, the recent events unfolding vividly in his thoughts. The presence of Auburn, a wise guide with a gentle demeanor, provided soothing comfort. Ameth's eagerness for counsel grew stronger, his desire to voice insights about the impending matters intensifying.
Auburn's interruption bore a sense of urgency in its tone.
"Hold your words," he advised quickly.
He cast a cautious gaze in every direction, ensuring no prying ears intercepted their exchange. The distant echoes of patrolling guards and faint laughter were the only sounds that reached him.
Then, locking his eyes onto Ameth's, Auburn drew a deep breath, his gaze unwavering, before proceeding to speak.
"It appears that the path you once aspired to tread has now paved its way to meet you."
His tone was neither forceful nor imposing. Instead, it held the calm assurance of one who has journeyed through life's intricate corridors.
"Time is of the essence," he continued, "Keep your actions discreet and rejoin your companions without delay. I will come by to see you later this evening."
Just as he was preparing to depart in a hurry, Auburn came to an abrupt halt, his eyes narrowing as he observed the visible distress on Ameth's face.
A moment of silence followed, during which Auburn seemed to be carefully contemplating Ameth's worries. His brow furrowed slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the complexity of Ameth's situation.
"Does your heart wish to learn whether I would traverse an alternate path, were I to stand in your stead?" he inquired, his gaze kind and knowing.
Ameth did not overtly show agreement or disagreement, yet the elderly man sensed his eagerness through years of acquaintance.
"The answer is no," Auburn eventually stated, his words carefully selected, "I would stay the course as it stands."
He drew near, as though confiding into Ameth's ear. With an air of wisdom, he imparted,
"Remember, without delay."
And with that, he turned to continue on his path, leaving Ameth to contemplate the gravity of their discussion.
Lost in thought, Ameth started walking along the corridor, drawn towards one of the windows by the elevated vantage point it offered.
As his gaze turned outward, he was met with a breathtaking panorama. The sun hung low in the sky, its fading light casting a luminous embrace over the city's rooftops and the sturdy walls of Redmont. Beyond those protective fortifications, rolling hills stretched out, their slopes adorned with a tapestry of blooming roses.
In the distance, a sprawling encampment extended across the landscape, a clear indicator of his imminent destination.
Suddenly, Ameth could sense his heart pounding within his chest, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, as though his body had been instantly ignited with a jolt of energy.
He swiftly turned and started striding towards the palace exit doors, his footsteps echoing softly in the corridor. However, just as he embarked on this purposeful journey, his attention was captivated by an enthralling spectacle that adorned the wall.
A grand map of Roseland unfolded before him, a tribute to the lineage of ancestral Kings and founding family members who had shaped the nation's history.
Alongside it, a display of emblems caught the light in various shades of Red, each representing a noble house that had woven itself into the fabric of the realm.
With a measure of intrigue, Ameth slowed his pace, his eyes tracing each symbol one by one.
'Vermilion,' 'Rose,' 'Garnet,' 'Maroon'... 'Amaranth,' 'Madder'... 'Carmine...'
A sense of connection to his heritage compelled him to linger near the end, where an emblem, polished and proud, bore the name of his family.
'Crimson.'
Ameth found himself entangled in contemplation of his personal history. He knew he was the firstborn to the Crimson dynasty. His father, Lord Ember, had once borne a different name and worn a different mantle before Ameth's birth. That was until he gained the favor of the King, at least as the stories Ameth had heard recounted. The ceremony itself was said to have taken place here, within the resplendent expanse of the Great Hall in the palace.
While he had not been present at the time, he could vividly recreate the scene in his mind - the magnificence of the event, the King's proclamation, and that pivotal moment.
Lord Ember of House Flame, hailing from the northern orange county, in recognition of your unwavering duty and steadfast loyalty to the realm, I hereby extend my embrace, welcoming thee into the fold of my chosen color.
From this day forth, you shall no longer be known as Flame; instead, you shall proudly wear the noble shade of Crimson.
Let this proclamation resonate near and far: It is Red!
In an instant, a symphony of lively cheers and jubilant celebrations echoed within Ameth's mind, enveloping him in a joyful atmosphere. Attendees raised their cups high in enthusiastic homage, and the very air seemed to be infused with the spirited essence of the occasion.
His daydreaming was gently interrupted by a familiar voice that emanated from behind him.
"Ameth?"
The voice, unmistakably belonging to the young daughter of King Almandite, reached his ears. Turning towards the source, a smile illuminated his face as he recognized her.
"Princess Scarlet," Ameth greeted her with a courteous bow.
He stood before her, his posture open and attentive, displaying a sense of comfort and ease in her presence. Beside her stood a young maiden, maintaining a respectful and prudent distance.
"Is it truly you?" Scarlet's eyes sparkled with a blend of surprise and delight.
"You have indeed grown, and the Ameth I knew would sooner pull my hair than offer a bow."
"Much has changed since those days," Ameth replied.
"Indeed," she responded suddenly, her tone tinged with a hint of melancholy.
"Have you come to see my father, the King?" she changed the subject. "He is in his chamber, meeting with men of the court. I have overheard them mention your name as I walked by. It appears they hold hopeful expectations for you."
The memory of their playful interactions in the past seemed to soften his gaze as he listened to her.
"That's heartening to know, and I'm grateful," he replied. "Yet, I fear there are those in the room who might disagree," he gestured subtly toward the 'Carmine' emblem.
In response, she offered a gentle smile, conveying both recognition and sympathy.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
"Carmine? Has it not caught your attention by now?" she inquired with a touch of playful amusement, her eyes holding a glint of shared understanding.
"Jasper has always carried a certain envy towards you, ever since our early childhood. The way the other children were naturally drawn to you, seeking your company. They all held you in deep admiration."
She paused, her expression softening as she continued,
"Others felt the same," she confessed, her cheeks coloring slightly as she glanced away, the innocence of her youth evident in her voice.
Ameth's demeanor shifted slightly, a subtle warmth spread across his features.
"When I heard news of your return," she continued, "I secretly wished for an opportunity to speak with you, although I remained uncertain if it would come to pass."
She produced an elegantly sealed letter from her gown, her fingers slightly trembling as she held it out.
"Within this letter, I have poured out my innermost thoughts and feelings," she shared, her fingers delicately tracing the intricate seal.
"I had hoped to give it to you. But now, suddenly, I feel too embarrassed. Those were my sincere thoughts, and I fear I might have been too forward."
Her gaze shifted slightly downward, a subtle sign of her internal struggle. Then, with resolute determination, she lifted her head to meet his eyes.
"Please," her voice was soft but impassioned, "you must open it only when you are out of the city, and only when times are at their most difficult. This way, I will know that my words can offer comfort when you need it the most. Promise me."
Ameth seemed touched by her vulnerability, a genuine smile playing at the corners of his lips. In that moment, there was a sense of connection, an understanding of the shared sentiments they had both experienced in their earlier years.
"I will read it only when time proves most difficult. This I promise." he said.
A reassuring smile played on the princess's lips as he held the letter delicately in his hand.
The grand hall of the palace reverberated with an air of authority as the Queen's voice cut through the silence, accompanied by the quiet yet commanding presence of two knights in gleaming armor. Princess Scarlet hesitated, her emerald eyes locking onto her mother's resolute gaze.
"Scarlet," the Queen's voice held a firm tone, demanding attention and respect.
"Yes, mother?" Scarlet's response was immediate and attentive.
The Queen's words conveyed a sense of urgency. "There seems to be a stir in the maiden's quarters. Cerise requires your assistance. Go now, child," she commanded.
Without further words, Scarlet nodded and swiftly departed, her footsteps echoing softly as she made her way to the maiden's quarters accompanied by her attendant.
In the midst of the palace's grandeur, Ameth found himself standing before the Queen, his presence marked by a blend of respect and a subtle unease that danced within his eyes.
"Queen Ruby," he intoned with a bow, his voice weighted with deference.
Her gaze met his, assessing him with a quiet intensity. "You are Lord Ember's son, are you not?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," he confirmed, his voice steady.
"Tell me, what did my husband want from you? Lie, and I will know," she stated with directness that mirrored her authority.
Ameth's gaze held steady under her discerning scrutiny, and he selected his words with deliberate care.
"In his grace, His Majesty offered me an opportunity to restore honor to my house. He has entrusted me with a crucial task."
A perceptive question followed. "And does this task involve secretive correspondence with one of his majesty’s royal daughters?"
While her words remained poised, Ameth felt the weight of her observation keenly, though his composure remained unbroken.
As a wordless acknowledgment, he offered the sealed letter to the Queen. Her fingers delicately accepted the letter, her gaze distant as memories resurfaced.
"I knew Ember. We were young once, perhaps even twice. He was a remarkable man, your father. It is a regrettable tragedy what fate has dealt him. He deserved a more fitting end." she reflected, a touch of melancholy coloring her voice.
With a sudden movement, she pushed the letter back toward him, a shift in the exchange.
"Keep it. You shall safeguard its possession, but you must never break its seal," the Queen pronounced with a sense of finality.
Acknowledging her instruction with a slight inclination of his head, Ameth's demeanor remained respectful as he held the letter once again.
"As you command," he replied, his words echoing through the hall.
As he turned to take his leave, a quiet pause hung in the air. Yet, before he could fully step away, the Queen's voice stopped him.
"One more matter," the Queen beckoned, her voice steady, "When you have fulfilled your duty, bring the letter to me. I wish to inspect its seal, ensuring its preservation."
Their gazes met, a silent understanding passing between them. Ameth's response was assured.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
With a final, profound bow, he left the hall, a sense of duty and the weight of the Queen's request accompanying him on his way.
----------------------------------------
As Ameth stepped out of the palace, the world outside was bathed in the warm hues of approaching dusk. The sky was a canvas of rich reds and soft purples, creating a serene and breathtaking backdrop that stretched across the horizon.
Ameth found his squire in the very spot he had last seen him. While the other squires had already dispersed, his loyal companion remained resolute in his position.
"Aster," Ameth's voice rang out, beckoning to him. "Let us depart before I complicate my situation any further. Auburn's counsel was wise; I must act swiftly."
They mounted their horses and rode beyond the city walls, following a path lined with vibrant roses in full bloom.
Upon reaching the camp, Ameth couldn't help but be impressed by its remarkable organization and efficient layout.
As they gracefully dismounted their horses before the guarded entrance, a figure approached with purpose. With a respectful inclination, the man introduced himself, his voice carrying a sense of formality and warmth.
"My Lord Amethyst, I hope I do not inadvertently offend by referring to you as Captain from this point onward. I am Poppy of Crimson, your Master Aide. It is an honor to serve you on this journey."
He then turned his attention to Aster, his loyal companion.
"Kindly instruct your squire to accompany the guard and ensure your horses are safely secured among the others in the makeshift stable."
Ameth acknowledged Aster with a nod of mutual understanding, and then watched him as he set off, trailing behind one of the guards.
Master Poppy, his demeanor respectful, directed his words to Ameth. "If you would be so kind as to accompany me," he spoke with politeness, gesturing for Ameth to follow his lead.
As they set out on their path through the camp, Ameth's expression was touched with curiosity. In response, he inquired about the source of this fresh assignment.
"May I ask, how was the decision made to appoint a Master Aide for me?" Ameth's gaze met the man's with intrigue.
Master Poppy's response came with a measured tone, a reflection of his understanding of the matter.
"The appointment of a Master Aide is a practice bestowed upon you by General Amaranth himself. It is intended to aid you in navigating the camp efficiently and to offer assistance whenever necessary."
As they continued, their path intersected with small groups of soldiers transporting supplies between tents. The camp buzzed with activity, the air filled with the purposeful energy of diligent hands.
"Upon introducing yourself as 'Poppy of Crimson'," Ameth's curiosity was sparked, "I find myself intrigued. What is the meaning behind your title? Is it possible that you hail from Mulberry?"
"Indeed," Master Poppy replied with a nod. "My family's roots stretch back to Mulberry, tracing our lineage through generations preceding your father's era. The General thought it wise to assign someone with a certain degree of closeness, fostering trust and rapport between you and your aide."
"How thoughtful of the General," Ameth remarked after a brief moment of contemplation.
The Master Aide halted his stride, his intention to emphasize a point becoming clear.
"Of course, the role I undertake also entails acting as a bridge for communication between you and the General," he clarified.
Ameth resumed his measured pacing, his guide seamlessly fell into step beside him.
"He made it clear that I would be provided with further specifics," Ameth mentioned, turning his attention to the Master Aide. "Have you come across any news regarding the reinforcement force stationed in Verdania?"
"The second regiment was instructed to depart the eastern front two days ago," Master Poppy explained, his tone measured and clear. "We received word earlier today at noon that they are prepared to reach Arbour within the next five days."
Ameth's face brightened as he processed the information. "So, they will be reinforcing our blockade in three days," he stated with a sense of approval. "That is excellent news. I would like to stay informed about their advancement. Please make sure it is given high priority."
"Yes, Captain," Master Poppy replied respectfully, acknowledging Ameth's instructions.
He proceeded to guide Ameth through various sections of the camp, highlighting their key features.
"What is the situation of our preparations?" Ameth questioned, his voice a reflection of his pressing concerns. "Are the men properly equipped, adequately stocked, and ready for departure?"
Master Poppy weighed the question with careful consideration. "With our final arrangements completed as of yesterday, our men stand ready to embark within the hour," he conveyed. His hand extended to indicate a grouping of structures nearby. "These are their barracks," he pointed out.
"Furthermore, as we proceed, you will notice the kitchen to the left," he informed Ameth, indicating the direction.
They came to a halt before a sizable tent. "This," Master Poppy announced, "is the field hospital, overseen by a physician named Maple." He then leaned in slightly, as if sharing a confidential piece of information. "I must advise, Captain, that Maple has a rather... colorful personality, if you catch my drift."
A man donned in a flowing robe and wearing spectacles emerged from the entrance of the hospital tent. With an air of enthusiasm, he extended his hand to Ameth, giving it a hearty shake. "Master Maple Scarlet at your service, sir!" he proclaimed with evident eagerness.
Ameth turned to the surgeon, his expression serious yet appreciative. "I place my trust in your hands, knowing that you will play a pivotal role in delivering essential medical care to our soldiers and tending to their wounds on the battlefield," he conveyed with a nod of acknowledgment.
The physician's reply held an unexpected touch of humility. He stammered slightly before responding, "Uh, yes, sir, still mastering the craft as they say."
Master Poppy courteously interjected, his voice gentle yet firm. "If you would be so kind as to accompany me, we are approaching the Captain's quarters."
As they arrived, an impressive and grand purple tent adorned with intricate silver decorations came into view.
"We have ensured that it is equipped with the finest comforts to meet the Captain's every requirement, and that of his esteemed guest," Master Poppy emphasized.
Surprised, Ameth inquired, "A guest?"
Master Poppy nodded and explained, "Indeed, your guest is already within. I will await your convenience to then escort you to the Command tent, where the lords eagerly anticipate the Captain's briefing."
Standing alone before the entrance, Ameth gazed upon the imposing grandeur of the purple tent, a striking contrast to the surrounding red hues. Two guards flanked its opening, their presence silent and vigilant.
Upon stepping inside, Ameth's eyes fell upon a figure dressed in distinct shades of blue, positioned at the tent's center. As the newcomer noticed Ameth's approach, he swiftly turned and bowed.
"My name is Cobalt. I bear the role of Ambassador Cerulean's personal envoy," he proclaimed, the air of formality inherent in his words.
"There is a certain matter my lord wishes to discuss with you."