Varen's ship. The same day. Inside the captain's cabin.
Varen and his first mate discussed moving the boxes from the warehouse. He wanted a full inventory done by the crew, and specifically told them to check on the Warped Crystal.
After that was settled, Varen asked another question.
"By the way, I haven't seen Jack around for quite a while. Did Bren or Aldric tell you anything about it?" — Varen
"I'll have to ask Aldric when he comes tomorrow. Bren has no idea." — First Mate
"Right. The day after holidays is a rest day for church members." — Varen
A short pause.
"Anyway, look for other people around the slum area just in case Jack can no longer work. We still need information from that area." — Varen
"Aye." — First Mate
Varen rubbed his eyes.
Just a couple more days and I can finally get that thing moving toward Malia.
. . .
At the same time. The occupied capital city of Malia. Inside the royal palace throne room.
The room was large and rectangular, nearly five meters tall, decorated in ornate red and gold. At the far end stood a red cushioned throne with a circular back. The symbol of M was engraved upon the wall behind it. A few steps below the throne sat two smaller backless seats, reserved for the kingdom's most influential nobles — the right and left hands of the king.
The throne stood empty. So did the two seats beside it.
Golden candle holders lined the hall with warm flickering light. Two rows of chairs extended along the sides of the room. On one side sat the remaining nobles of Malia, many of them heirs and successors whose predecessors had died in the Water Grand Whale attack. On the other side sat the victorious nobles of Troc, their expressions filled with pride.
All of them waited for the same thing.
The formal submission of the Kingdom of Malia to the Kingdom of Troc.
The great doors opened slowly.
Three people entered.
At the center walked King Luis De Troc — graying hair, blue eyes, a golden crown. To his left walked Aurus Di Lut, black-haired and blue-eyed. To his right walked a thirteen-year-old boy with blonde hair and green eyes.
Nabil De Malia. The current king of Malia.
All three wore clothing befitting their status. Luis ascended the steps and seated himself upon the throne. Aurus took position beside him. Nabil remained standing before the throne.
"Aurus Di Lut, do you pledge your allegiance to me, Luis De Troc, as my right hand?" — King Luis
"I do." — Aurus
"Nabil De Malia, do you pledge your allegiance to the Kingdom of Troc, and to me, its rightful ruler?" — King Luis
Nabil paused. His lip trembled slightly before he forced the words out.
"I do." — Nabil
. . .
A few hours later. The celebration party.
Aurus stood near the food and drinks, eating his fill, until one of his subordinates approached with a letter from Bravo.
He read it.
Why get Farma though? Is my woman or my son not high-blooded enough? Tsk. I should have removed that ungrateful offspring's supporters when I banished her.
I'll have to leave my troops here and return with only my personal guard.
He looked at the subordinate.
"How long will it take to return if we leave as soon as possible? Without the troops." — Aurus
"A week, your highness." — Subordinate
"A week it is." — Aurus