Chapter 16: The King's Choice

The grand chamber was alive with tension as the Council of Elders convened, their voices raised in heated debate. The long table, carved from ancient oak, seemed almost to groan under the weight of their discord. "This is preposterous!" Thudded Elder Marthus' fist onto the table, his weathered face red with anger. "A peasant girl? And worse, a wolfless one! How can such a woman stand beside the king as our queen?" "She saved his life," returned Elder Taryth, himself calm on the surface and yet seething inside. "That in itself warrants acknowledgement. Perhaps the king sees something in her that we do not." "Recognition, yes," Marthus shot back, his voice raised. "A reward, perhaps. But marriage? She is not worthy of the crown. Our kingdom has ladies of the court, daughters of great clans, eager and willing to merge their bloodlines with that of the king. And yet he chooses her?" A murmur of assent ran around the room, but others exchanged frowning glances; their loyalty to King Ileus was at war with the conventional demands of society. Elder Veyn, the oldest of them, leaned forward, his frail hand clutching the edge of the table. "We have to trust the king's judgement," he said; his voice was steady for his age. "He is our leader, chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. If this is his will, then we must follow." "Trust?" Marthus sneered, frustration finally overflowing. "This isn't a matter of trust. It is a matter of the future of our kingdom. What alliances could this girl bring? What strength does she bring? Nothing! She is nobody!" Taryth interrupted him, his tone cutting. "Enough, Marthus. To insult the king's choice is a perilous path. Are you calling his authority into question? Before Marthus could retort, the heavy doors to the chamber flung open. A hush fell over the room as King Ileus entered, his commanding figure demanding respect instantly. He was clad in dark leather, and the silver circlet on his head gleamed in the flickering light of the torches. His piercing gaze swept around the room, even the whispered conversations dying away in the corners. "Your Majesty," Veyn said, rising from his seat and bowing deeply. The other elders followed suit, though some did so reluctantly. Ileus stepped forward, his boots echoing against the stone floor. "I have heard enough," he said, his voice cold and resolute. "It seems my choice has caused… unrest among you." "Your Majesty," Marthus said, trying to compose himself, "we seek only the best for the kingdom. A queen is not just your partner, but she's a symbol of our strength, our unity. Ileus raised a hand, cutting him off. "And you believe I have not considered this?" His gaze swept over the council, daring anyone to challenge him. "I am the king. It is my right to choose my queen. And I have chosen Reika." "But, sire," another elder began hesitantly, "she is.." "Wolfless," Ileus finished for him, his voice razor-sharp. "I am aware. But she has qualities that none of you appear to have the vision to see. Loyalty. Bravery. Principles. She put her life in danger for mine without a second thought. Do any of your daughters of the nobility have such selflessness to boast? " The silence in the room weighed on the elders, heavy with the implication of his words. Ileus continued, his voice softer but no less firm. "Reika is my choice. This is not up for debate. She will stand beside me as queen, and you will ensure that the wedding is an event worthy of our kingdom." "When will the wedding take place, sire?" Veyn asked, breaking the silence. "On the fourth night, under the full moon," Ileus said, "The Goddess shall witness our union." A murmur ran across the council. The full moon was an auntument time, used only when events were of the greatest importance. Ileus stood tall, his face unrelenting. "You have your orders. Do not disappoint me." He whirled and strode from the chamber, billowing his cape behind him. In a flash, there was pandemonium in the chamber as soon as the king was out of hearing distance. "This is madness!" Marthus fumed, red with anger. "The fourth night? That's barely enough time to prepare!" "It's a test of our loyalty," Taryth said, though his voice betrayed the fact that he spoke as much to reassure himself as the rest. "It's an insult!" Marthus spat. "To our traditions, to our bloodlines—" A sudden gasp cut him off. All eyes turned to Elder Harland, clutching his chest, pale-faced. "My daughter…," he wheezed, sinking back into his chair. "I always prayed she would… marry the king…" His words faltered and he slumped forward with a groan of pain. "Harland!" Veyn shouted, leaping to his side. "Get the healer!" another elder cried, and a guard hastened off to do just that. Meanwhile, Ileus strode through the palace halls, his expression unreadable. He knew his decision would be met with resistance, but he didn't care. His choice was final. In the private confines of his chambers, he sat by the window, staring out into the moonlit courtyard. He could think only of Reika, of the quiet strength in her, of the fire that burned within her eyes. There was no one quite like her, and he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. In a small room off the kitchens, gossip flowed like the serving jugs among the palace's servants. "Have you heard?" one maid whispered. "The king announced the date of their wedding. It will take place under the full moon!" "She doesn't deserve it," another grumbled. "A peasant girl, a queen? It's a joke." "Do you think she'll even last?" asked a footman, smirking. "The council hates her. The nobles hate her. It's just a question of time before someone does away with her." Little did they know, Reika was standing outside the door and felt her heart sink as she caught the cruel words of their conversation. She clenched her fists, forcing herself to remain calm. Let them talk, she thought. They will regret underestimating me.