"Rise."

The command wasn't loud, yet it carried through the throne room like a ripple through still water. The sound alone demanded obedience.

Edward rose, his movement stiff and uncertain beside Elarien's effortless grace. The King's gaze remained fixed on him. It wasn't a look of hostility, but rather scrutiny, the way one might study a blade to see if it was sharp enough to keep.

Besides the King, the Queen's attention was colder. Her beauty was statuesque, her eyes glacial and unyielding, examining Edward as though she were dissecting his very soul.

"Lady Elarien," the King began, his voice rich and resonant, echoing faintly off the marble pillars. "You have served our house with honour and distinction. Your request for audience was unexpected, yet I know you would not seek it without grave cause. Speak."

Elarien lowered her head slightly. "Your Majesty. Thank you for granting us your time. The matter is indeed grave—it concerns not only the safety of Valendell but the stability of the entire continent."

The King regarded her in silence, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his throne. Then, after a long moment, he spoke again.

"Crimson Oath."

The words cut through the air like a blade, startling both Elarien and Edward.

"They should have been eradicated long ago," the King continued, his tone steady but sharp. "I would like to blame humanity for their existence… yet it is unfortunate that even our own kin have joined their ranks."

His gaze turned toward Edward for a fleeting second before returning to Elarien.

"I have already been informed of what transpired with the shopkeeper in Glenwood Village."

Edward's head lifted slightly, surprise flickering across his face. It had been barely a night since that incident. How could the word have reached the royal court so soon?

He glanced at Elarien—her composure remained intact, but the faint twitch in her brow told him she was equally surprised.

Elarien spoke again, steady and formal. "Your Majesty, we have confirmed information that Vael resides within the Nightveil Mountains. We seek the Crown's support to travel there and bring Elandir's murderer to justice."

The King leaned back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Nightveil Mountains…" he repeated, his tone unreadable. "That will not be an easy task."

"We're well aware," Elarien said firmly.

The King's gaze shifted between them. "And your human companion…?"

"Edward," she replied. "He has been of great help in uncovering what we know so far. His assistance will be crucial in the hunt for Vael."

"Crucial," the King echoed, his eyes narrowing slightly. He leaned forward on the throne, his voice quieter now, almost musing. "It appears Prince Arthur was right about the boy's… usefulness."

Before they could dwell on the King's words, the Queen's voice broke through the moment. Her tone was calm but carried a weight that silenced the room.

"It is a dangerous journey," she said, looking toward her husband. "The Nightveil Mountains are infested with beasts corrupted by mana and remnants of old wars. We would need significant forces to even attempt such a venture."

The King turned to her, and in that shared look between them, something silent passed—an unspoken conversation neither Elarien nor Edward could read.

But before either could speak again, a deep creak echoed behind them.

The massive doors of the throne room swung open.

All eyes turned toward the entrance as an elderly elf walked in, his steps slow but assured, his posture upright despite the years. His hair was white as snow, and a soft smile tugged at his lips as if the heavy air of the room did not concern him in the slightest.

"F-Father?" The King's voice broke from its regal calm. He looked genuinely stunned, as though he hadn't seen the man in years.

Elarien immediately fell to her knees in respect, bowing low, but the old elf waved her off casually. "No need, no need," he said with a dismissive flick of his hand, his tone far too cheerful for the atmosphere.

Then his gaze landed on Edward. "Ah, nice to see you again, young man! How have you been?"

Edward blinked, taken aback. "We spoke yesterday. Not much has changed," he replied, confusion threading through his voice.

The entire room froze.

The King's eyes darted between Edward and the old elf. "Father—you know this human?"

"Of course I do!" the old elf said with a laugh. "We've met numerous times. He's a good person."

Elarien looked between them, clearly stunned.

The King frowned deeply, his composure wavering for the first time. "You've… met numerous times?" he repeated.

"Of course!" Thyrion answered.

The queen raised her brows, intrigued by this revelation.

Thyrion smiled but didn't elaborate. His gaze flicked toward Elarien instead. "I came to support their claim," he said. "Their expedition to the Nightveil Mountains should not be hindered."

A heavy silence filled the chamber. The King and his father stared at one another, something wordless and weighty passing between them.

Finally, the King gave a slow nod. "Very well."

He turned to Elarien. "You may use any resources you deem necessary. I leave the responsibility of the matter to you."

Elarien immediately lowered her head again. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Edward stayed silent. He wasn't sure if he should speak—or even breathe—while the royal family exchanged words.

The King stood from his throne and stepped down from the dais, approaching Thyrion. His expression softened slightly, though curiosity still lingered in his gaze. "You two may leave now," he said, not looking their way. "I shall speak with my father on the details."

Elarien bowed once more. Edward followed suit, his every movement cautious.

The heavy doors closed behind them as they stepped out into the corridor. The tension of the throne room faded, replaced by the muted hum of palace servants and echoing footsteps.

Elarien walked beside him in silence for a long while, her eyes occasionally flicking his way, her mind clearly elsewhere.

Finally, when they stepped out into the bright courtyard, she spoke.

Her tone was quiet but edged with curiosity. "How do you know the King's father?"

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