The grand doors of the throne room creaked open, and Hamund stepped through, he marched through with his back straight and his chin held high. The fang of the north glinted in his hand, it's cold grip soothed him as he marched through the crowded room.

The crowd was parted between two sides of the room, divided by a wall of royal guards and a red and gold carpet. The carpet looked like a river of fire stretching through a valley of silver.

Hamund peered past the waves of people and crashing of voices and focused on the table ahead of him. The table had seven seats lined across it reserved for his council that would join him shortly. Behind the table sat a throne made of iron, gold and the finest wood in the kingdom. Hamund couldn’t help but be impressed by the level of craftsmanship that went into forging the throne. The subtle twists of gold displayed the power that it represented, the wood born of the kingdom represented a sense of loyalty to the nation, the iron that trimmed the throne was meant to be a reminder of the burdens that come with taking such a throne. Three steps led up to the throne, elevating it above the rest of the room, as if to remind all who gathered there where the final word of authority rested.

Hamund dreaded sitting upon the throne, it gave him a cold chill equal to the blade he held in his hand. He despised being the one making the final decision, especially on such a large scale. Every word he said could be turned against him, even the actions of others were deemed as his responsibility. He thought to himself “how could anyone long for such a heavy burden.”

With a heavy sigh, Hamund took a seat on the throne, placing his blade on the ground beside him. He raised his hand, quieting the crowd, his voice loud and commanding “I call this court to order, please welcome my council.” Glancing at the empty seats of his council, he eagerly awaited their arrival.

As Hamund’s voice rang out, the murmur of the crowd slowly died down, leaving an eerie silence in its place. The creaking of the grand doors broke the stillness in the air once more as each member of the council entered one by one.

Admadra was the first to arrive, her golden prosthetic brightened the room under the lights of the hall. She walked with a calm authority, scanning the room before giving a nod to Hamund. Her presence alone was enough to make the royal guards around the room stiffen, a reminder of the discipline she commanded as their leader.

Next came Aris, his face was tight with emotion, his eyes betraying the turmoil that still lingered from the earlier exchange. He took a seat as far from Admadra as he could be, avoiding making eye contact as much as possible. His fists were clenched in his lap as if he was trying to control the storm of his temper.

Lev’ion, Val, Opey, and Yusif followed suit, each quietly taking their seat as they awaited Ken, the final member of the council.

Ken was the last to enter, his steps were slow and deliberate. He gave Hamund a sly, knowing smile as he took his seat in the dead center of the table. He could feel the tension in the room and still smile as if he reveled in it.

Hamund, still looking into the crowd, felt the tension built up between his council. He noticed as Aris occasionally glared at his father, or even Kens repeated heavy breaths as if he was silently laughing.

Hamund called to Aris “It is time we address the masses.”

Aris shifted in his seat, as he finally looked up from his isolated state he made his announcement “Good evening people of Reykjagard, first order of business is to discuss the events of todays closed court…” Aris cleared his throat and shifted in his chair once again. “Today, it was discussed that we will be hosting a grand feast, it is our mindset that such an event could help to ease the tension between us and the people.” Aris said, his voice cracking as he spoke these words.

As Aris finished speaking, a murmur rippled through the crowd. Hamund watched as the expressions of those gathered changed, some wore smiles of excitement, others seemed curious and uncertain. One thing was clear to Hamund: the crowd was unsure whether the feast was a measure of goodwill or a calculated move made by the court.

Ken leaned forward, his fingers drumming lightly on the table, his eyes twinkled with mischief. “A grand feast,” he added, his voice smooth and almost playful. “It is an interesting proposal, though I am certain some of you may be wondering… is this truly an olive branch, or could this be a thinly veiled attempt to hold control over you?”

The murmurs of the crowd grew louder, many in the crowd shifted uncomfortably. Hamund’s jaw tightened, realizing Ken was already sowing in seeds of doubt, but this was anticipated. Hamund expected Ken to act in his own self interest, even wanted him to. Hamund knew he could never be seen as a voice of the people because he wore the crown, Yusif and Aris were seen as traitors and weren’t trusted amongst the populace, Ken was his best chance to gain trust while maintaining control. Although Hamund did worry that giving Ken such power could cause more of a divide, it was a risk he knew had to be made.

The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, their voices swirled like rising winds before a storm. Faces that were once filled with curiosity now showed fear and doubt. A voice broke through the quiet mumblings of the crowd.

“Is this feast truly for the people?” a man from the back of the crowd called out. “Or is it just another distraction while you plot behind our backs?”

Hamunds eyes swept across the room, his grip tightening on the armrests of the throne. He could feel the weight of their mistrust, suspended above him like a guillotine.

Another voice, sharper and louder, followed “And what of the executions? You speak of easing tensions, but still it is our loved ones that are dragged into the streets like dogs and executed!”

The crowd's murmur rose into a low roar. A woman in the front raised her hand, her eyes filled with anger “We talk of feasts, but you only deliver death! How are we supposed to trust you when we don't even know who's next to meet your blade?”

Hamund straightened his posture, opening his mouth to speak, but before he could Ken’s smooth voice slid into the conversation.

“My good people,” Ken began, leaning forward slightly, his fingers laced together. “You raise fair points, The executions have not been easy to witness, nor were they easy decisions for our dear Admadra to make.” His tone was sympathetic, but Hamund could sense a glimmer of his darker intentions. “But do not mistake necessity for cruelty. Those who were executed sought to bring chaos to the kingdom– chaos that would have torn our very foundation, and with winter's breath knocking on our walls, this was a threat to the kingdom that could not stand.”

The crowd's roar simmered, though not fully silenced. Hamund could see the doubt still lingering in their eyes, like embers waiting to catch fire. He knew his next words must be carefully crafted.

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Ken continued, his voice softened by still commanding the crowd. “The feast is not a distraction or a deception. It is a chance– an olive branch, if you will–for us to come together as one people. A kingdom united, not by fear, but by understanding.”

Aris caught Hamunds eye as he shifted in his seat. His gaze flickering between Ken and the crowd. Aris wanted to counter Ken’s manipulation, but his throat felt tight as the weight of the earlier vote still clung to him.

Before Aris could find his voice, a woman from the back of the crowd shouted “And what of the royal guard? They patrol our streets like wild animals, hunting for their next kill. Is this your idea of protection?”

Admadra was quick to rise from her chair “The royal guard are sworn to protect this kingdom, that means everyone inside these walls.” She said, her voice as sharp as a blade. “We have seen several threats from both inside and outside our walls. The guard acts only to protect your safety and ours.”

“But is it safe when we live in fear of our protectors?” the woman shot back, her voice trembling with defiance.

Admadra’s eyes narrowed, but Hamund raised his hand, signaling for silence. “Enough” he said. “We are not here to trade accusations, but to build trust. I understand your fears, and I do not dismiss them.”

Hamund paused, scanning the faces of the people, trying to gauge the room, to help build a bridge across the divide between the crown and its subjects.

“That is why we need this feast, it is a chance to have a better dialogue.” Hamund continued “”A chance for you to speak, and for us to listen. This is not a measure of control, but of reconciliation. If we do not open ourselves to each other, then what hope do we have? How would we survive each other, let alone the coming winter?”

Hamund looked through the crowd, seeing their fear and worry. “There will be no bloodshed without cause,” Hamund declared his voice firm and sincere. “But know this: if threats arise, if the peace we seek is endangered, we will act upon that. That is my promise to you, as a king, and as a man.”

For a long, agonizing moment, the room was still. Then slowly, a ripple of agreement spread through the crowd. It was not unanimous, but it was enough for Hamund to feel certain.

Hamund exhaled quietly, his gaze shifting towards his council. The tension was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but at least for the moment they had control. Hamund could help but wonder how long it would last.

Aris stood, still hesitant on how he felt about the situation. “Next we will discuss issues that affect you as the general public, please in an orderly fashion step forward to address the lord.”

The first citizen to step forward was an older man, his weathered face made it evident to Hamund that he was one of the kingdom's many farmers. The man stepped into the center of the hall, his hands were trembling from fear and anger. “My lord,” the man attempted to bow but struggled to hold his balance.

Hamund stood up, walked over to the man and said “Sir, you need not bow. Tell me, what is your Grievance?”

The older man’s breath was shaky as he pushed words out through heavy breaths, his voice was torn with emotion. “My lord,” he began, his eyes focused at his feet. “The royal guard… they came to my farm, claiming it was in effort to protect us from the rebels. But I woke to my fields being burned, my animals had their necks slit, we were left with nothing but ashes.” His voice cracked with his tears as a hush fell over the room. “My family will starve without these resources. Winter approaches, without crops or animals, how are we to survive the unforgiving storms?”

The crowd stirred, whispers of agreement and murmurs of a shared pain rippled through the hall. Hamund’s gaze softened as he listened to the man's story, he could feel his pain and believed the words being said.

Hamund turned towards Admadra and commanded. “An investigation will be done into any misdeeds conducted under our banner. Their suffering will not go overlooked, and we will not tolerate those put into place to protect, using the power given to them as a means to harm our kingdom.”

Admadra’s face was bright with anger, her jaw clenched as she returned Hamund’s blistering stare. “My lord,” she paused, taking a breath and chose her words carefully. “I trust you know that the royal guard works under strict orders, should any of my men overstep those orders, they will have to answer for it. But to assume there has been wrongdoing without evidence, it would be a spit in the face of the guards.”

Hamund raised his hand, silencing the murmurs of the crowd. “This is not about disgracing the name of the royal guard.” he said, his tone calm yet firm. “It is about accountability. I want the guard's name to be held high, but that means ensuring our members are held to the same standard as the citizens they watch over.”

Admadra’s defense of the royal guard carried a sharpness that raised the tension in the hall. Hamund, though resolute, could see the struggle in her eyes–the leader torn between loyalty to her troops and the demands for justice.

“The royal guard has my respect, Admadra.” Hamund continued, his voice steady as ever. “But my respect for the men who have protected me and our people cannot blind me. Investigations are not accusations. They are measures of truth, and for us to regain the trust of our people we must seek that truth. He looked into the crowd, then back to Admadra “The people deserve that much.”

Admadra held his gaze for a moment before her shoulders stiffened. “Very well, my lord. The investigation will proceed.” she said, with a straightforward tone “But know this–every minute wasted questioning the guard is a minute lost in our preparations to protect our people.”

Admadra saw the building anger on Hamund's face. “I will conduct an investigation into any conduct unbecoming of the royal guard. There will be justice for the people.”

Ken, seeing an opportunity to stir the pot, leaned forward in his chair and added “You said it yourself, the guard acted under strict orders. How can we trust an investigation held by you, when you are the one who commands the guard?”

Admadra turned to her counterpart “What are you implying?” She asked, her voice filled with rage from the accusations.

Ken shrugged, hiding his deeper intentions. “I am simply raising a concern that others might have. With you investigating your own command, some might say there is room… for bias.”

The crowd stirred up again, whispers and murmurs filled the air. Hamund’s gaze shifted between Ken and Admadra, aware of the growing tension. He needed to control the situation quickly, but Ken’s words had already planted seeds of doubt.

“Enough of this,” Hamund interrupted, his voice cutting through the rising noise. “Admadra, I trust in your ability to lead this investigation with fairness. But I will also appoint a neutral party to oversee it, to ensure for the sake of the people and guard alike.”

The whispers of the crowd faded, though the tension between Ken and Admadra lingered. Hamund could see a visible divide in his council, but he knew that should the public divide grow, it would only strengthen his enemies.

Ken smiled slightly, feeling as though he won, he leaned back in his chair and replied “A wise choice my lord, I am sure the people will appreciate this measure of transparency.”

Hamund nodded and switched his gaze to Aris and stated “I think it is about time we call this court closed.”

As Hamund called to Aris to call the court to a close, the mood in the hall remained charged, the crowd remained silent as they departed the hall leaving only the council standing in the room.

Hamund returned to his throne, gripping the hilt of the fang of the north as he raised it from the side of his throne. He walked towards the exit of the hall. Before leaving, he paused and spoke with authority, his voice echoing through the empty halls.

“We must not divide ourselves, find your purpose, but remember your places on this council.” He said, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the council. “We serve the people, that will remain the goal. Tomorrow will bring greater challenges, but we must stand tall.” Hamund’s face displayed his disappointment with the events that took place “Prepare yourselves.”

Without waiting for a response, Hamund turned and departed the hall through the grand doors. The sounds of the doors closing behind him shook the hall, leaving each member of the council feeling a sense of guilt, except Ken who remained smiling.