The pungent smell of horse manure pushed its way through to Ethelston's nostrils, but as he disembarked his steed, all thoughts of the stench appeared irrelevant. Brushing the side of the horse's black coat, the recently completed hunt with the other Ravenscourt nobles had nearly all been forgotten. As his eyes swept over towards the dirty working horse further down the courtyard, he couldn't help but feel devastation, as it's once white coat, was now a deep mahogany red.

The horse seemed disturbed and on edge by the two boys tasked with cleaning it. The stable boys were trying hard to keep it steady, but with every attempt to control the situation, it seemed only to cause the horse to flinch in anxiety.

Ethelston patted his horse on its side before walking calmly to the white horse; it's dark glistening eyes focusing on the new threat edging towards it.

Raising his hand calmly, Ethelston placed it on the horse's nose, stroking it carefully, encouraging the stable boys to take a step back and watch.

Almost instantly, the horse appeared to calm, lowering its head slightly to allow the Manticore Hunter to rub his hand through its hair. As Ethelston gained its confidence, the horse became more relaxed, easing itself into Ethelston's comfort.

Ethelston felt heartbroken. One side of the horse was covered in elven blood, yet the horse appeared oblivious to it. If there had not been a hunt that he had to attend, Ethelston would not have left Erdudvyl's side all night. There was so much blood, and the physician had repeated his words to Ethelston that she may not last the night. Leaving for the hunt early in the morning had left Ethelston with the burning question on whether he would see her alive once more.

"Thank you for bringing her back to me," Ethelston whispered to the horse's ear, watching it flick as if it was an acknowledgement.

As he took a step back, watching it closely, all thoughts of duty would be forgotten; he needed to know the fate of the woman that inhabited his thoughts.

"Boys, look after this horse well. It's a working horse, so go easy. It will not be used to the sights, sounds and procedures of a castle." Ethelston ordered.

As both boys acknowledged and bowed, Ethelston briskly walked towards the keep, eager to find out the latest news.

Never before had he walked so hastily through the halls of Ravenscourt. Each step was forceful and with purpose, and as he reached the room where Erdudvyl lay, the physician exited the room flanked by the intimidating figure of Aryya.

The physician bowed immediately on seeing the concerned Ethelston. "My Lord."

"Report?" Ethelston responded abruptly.

The physician looked exhausted from hours with Erdudvyl, but his exhaustion did not display concern, instead surprise. "I had anticipated to give you news of a more concerning nature, but instead, I find I am giving you information of surprise and hope. By all means, with the amount of blood she has lost, she should be dead. Not only is she alive, but her wound is healing surprisingly well. Quite frankly, it's a miracle."

Ethelston immediately looked away, he exhaled extensively, and his face glowed with delight. Composing himself, he turned back towards the physician, "Is she able to talk?"

"Yes, my Lord. Though I recommend that she remains bedridden. Her wound is by no means healed and could easily rupture. There is no sign of infection, but she is exceedingly tired. I would suggest you keep your time with her brief for her to recover properly." the physician explained.

"Thank you. Aryya, a word if you may?"

The physician took his leave, allowing Aryya to turn towards the relieved Duke, who was struggling to contain his smile.

"So this is her?" Aryya asked, "The woman who melted the Manticore Hunter's heart."

As Ethelston remained silent, Aryya smiled, patting him firmly on the shoulder. "I've seen the wound, and I too am completely uncertain on how she remains with us. Despite her fragile frame, she is surprisingly strong."

Ethelston nodded, his eyes turning towards the dark, mysterious eyes of his counterpart. "I will need your help in the coming few weeks, can I count on you and your men?"

Aryya frowned slightly as the question was posed towards her. A tone of offence could be heard as she said, "Absolutely, your coin is good and therefore, so are we. Though Ethelston, you know that you should never need to ask me this question. My men fight for your coin, I fight for you. We have been through too much together for me to turn my back on that."

"I thank you for your continued support, my friend. Please could you inform Jarendrud to gather the nobles in the hall; afterwards I'll need to discuss things with you. If indeed an army is coming, I'll need you and your mercenaries more than ever." Ethelston instructed.

"I'm not sure I like being your errand girl, though!" Aryya scoffed before chuckling and patting Ethelston hard on the back.

As Aryya excited the corridor, Ethelston gingerly opened the door into the incense-filled room. Carefully closing it behind him, he looked over to the bed to see the tiny frame of Erdudvyl lying in it. Watching the covers gently rising and falling in time with her breathes, a small sigh of relief forced its way out of Ethelston's mouth.

Each step he took carefully, edging his way forward to the seat by her side, causing as little noise as possible. Placing himself on it, he watched as she slept like a child as if she had not endured a night of pain and discomfort.

Sitting back, Ethelston did not know how long he would need to wait, but wait he would, as long as she needed to regain some strength.

"Ethelston?" a small croaky voice spoke from beneath the covers of the bed.

Almost instantly, Ethelston lowered himself to her side so they could see eye to eye. As he carefully stroked her dark midnight hair, he watched as her blue eyes seemed duller than usual and her pale face was almost a milky white. But as she smiled, the room seemed to fill with light and energy that Ethelston had not felt for some time.

"I did not think you would last the night," Ethelston said, his voice breaking with a tinge of excitement.

Erdudvyl did not move, but her eyes seemed to regain some of their glow as they focused on his. "I control the sphere of life; otherwise, I would not have even made it back from Lionmane."

"Who did this to you?"

As Erdudvyl moved slightly, she was in visible discomfort, her face scrunching with even the slightest twist. "The one you call Widow Maker, I have never seen anyone move with such cunning and poise."

"Sir Gervais Vanderbilt? But he was killed a few winters ago." Ethelston replied with concern.

"A Death Wraith now."

Ethelston's face turned away, briskly, "Shit! There has been no swordsman that lived as capable as he."

"Not even you, the mighty Manticore Hunter?" Erdudvyl chuckled painfully.

Ethelston smiled, happy to see her spirits were still positive. "Unfortunately, I would say that is true. His skills with the sword are renowned throughout all the realms of men. We will have to remain extra vigilant for his return. But what of Loldirr?"

"She has travelled north to gain ally's against Lionmane. Listen, Ethelston, you must prepare for what is to come. Emperor Arnaud is sending a reserve army direct to Ravenscourt. His mistress, Nimue, she worked out who Loldirr is, and they attempted to execute her." explained Erdudvyl.

"Attempted?" Ethelston asked.

"Her powers grow, but that's not important. Ten thousand troops are on their way here, lead by Sir Bradajois. We have to plan for their arrival." said Erdudvyl as she attempted to push herself away from the bed.

Her attempts were quickly quashed by Ethelston, "I have to plan for their arrival. You have to rest!" he ordered.

As the pain shot through her body, Erdudvyl's attempts to rebel against Ethelston's instructions were quickly thwarted. She rested her head back down on the feather pillow and sighed. "I'm sorry that we failed. Reports of Nimue's intelligence, cunning and lack of morality are greatly misjudged. I felt I am always one step ahead with humans, yet I realise that I do not give you the credit you deserve. In fact, there are a great many things I have learnt during my time among your people."

Ethelston chuckled as the vulnerable elf looked up at him. "There's no need to apologise. At some point, we would have always needed to fight Lionmane; perhaps it's better now than in the future. I will need to prepare the defences. Promise me you'll rest. I need you to be strong for what is to come."

As Ethelston was about to stand to his feet, Erdudvyl quickly grabbed hold of his hand. Her soft, delicate touch seemed to jolt Ethelston to look toward Erdudvyl. Her lips curled to a smile as their eyes locked once more. "I will be strong for you."

The touch of Erdudvyl's hand on his seemed to push a button inside of Ethelston. Instinctively, he gently stroked the back of his free hand on her cheek, expecting her to push it away; instead, she nuzzled against it, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation. As he leant forward, her eyes opened once more unsure if she wanted to push him away or embrace what was to come.

The warmth of his breath caused goosebumps all over her skin, and for the first time since lying in bed, she could no longer feel pain. Instead, for the first time in her life, she felt like she was exactly where she wanted to be.

His lips pressed against hers, her eyes closed. They only touched for a moment, but for them, it felt like a lifetime of happiness.

Their lips separated, and Ethelston couldn't help but feel content as the smile on Erdudvyl's face seemed to be even brighter than before. Never before had he felt as alive as at this moment and everything in his being wanted to ignore duty and embrace the woman beside him.

"You must go, Lord Darke, " Erdudvyl giggled, "do not worry, I will still be here when you return."

Rising to his feet, a feeling of joy and sadness washed over Ethelston. He had longed for this moment for many moons, but yet it was over so quick. Despite it being but a fleeting moment, the look at the happiness that radiated from Erdudvyl, he knew this would certainly not be the last time.

***

The main hall was bombarded with the echoes of the Lord's who inhabited it. Most still stood in their hunting gear confused by last nights events and the morning's immediate summons by the Duke of Ravenscourt. Comments of his erratic behaviour had caused some alarm, and each of them felt compelled to raise it with each other.

As Ethelston made his way down the corridor, Jarendrud greeted him before he entered the hall.

"My Lord, there's a lot of discontent in there this morning. No one really knows what you are doing or what's going on. I must admit, but neither do I!" Jarendrud complained.

Ethelston patted him on the shoulder, a look of determination and focus imprinted on his face. "Your job is to advise my friend, not necessarily understand. Things have escalated quicker than I anticipated; therefore, I will explain to all the situation. Follow me, and make sure the hall doors are closed."

Without hesitation, Ethelston briskly strode his way to the head of the room, causing all around to descend into silence.

As he turned, he could see a lot of frustrated faces.

Pushing his way to the front, the Knight Inquisitor Ithelred's face was one of thunder. "Would you care to confide in us what on earth is going on and why we have been summoned here?" he questioned with malice.

"My Lords, I apologise for the meeting that I have unceremoniously thrown upon you all. I have irrefutable confirmation that, as we speak, an army from Lionmane is preparing its way here intending to lay siege and conquer this great city."

The voices crescendoed into discontent and frustration once again.

"My Lords? MY LORDS?" Ethelston tried to gain their attention once more yet the voices just drowned out his pleas.

It wasn't until Ithelred raised his hands that the voices died down. "You said to me yesterday that you supported Lionmane? You dare lie to me?" Ithelred boomed, his anger starting to show.

Ethelston placed his hands on his hips and smiled. "My Lord, I said no such thing. My words were that I would do what is in the best interest for the Isovine Empire, and as a result, this is why an army descends upon us."

The voices did not raise this time, confused by Ethelston's choice of words.

Ethelston took a deep breath, for he knew the next words he would speak would sign him as a traitor to the throne. "Emperor Arnaud III is a usurper, who stole the throne from the Aex-Igh's. The very same Aex-Igh's who had provided us with peace and prosperity long before all of us here came screaming into the world. Arnaud's attempts to destroy the family line were efficient, but ultimately failed."

"You're saying an Aex-Igh lives?" Ithelred asked.

"I do."

The voices spurred to life again, yet this time not of discontent but wonder and conspiracy.

Ethelston, this time, raised his arms, the voices died down. "Loldirr, of house Aex-Igh, Emperor Fenrirr's daughter, has been under my father's protection since they fled Lionmane seventeen winters ago. At this time, she has been tasked with obtaining allies to support us in the defence of this city. Since I encountered her, Ravenscourt's and my allegiance is solely at her feet. She is the true Empress of Isovine, and my loyalty and devotion to her will ensure that she is placed rightfully on her throne."

No voices could be heard. Even Ithelred appeared to be digesting the vast amount of controversial information.

"My Lords," Ethelston continued, "I will not keep you here in Ravenscourt unless you choose to do so. You are free to return to your families, and there will be no stain on your honour. I would suggest that you prepare for departure at the earliest convenience as my scouts determine how long before the army is at our doorstep."

Ithelred took a step forward; his face was fierce and determined. All eyes were on him. "We all made an oath, to the Aex-Igh's and the Darke's. As we stand here, my boys fight in an unjust war in Ruvia created by Arnaud and seduced by his blue-haired witch. Your boys fight their also, and for what? So we can pay more taxes than our subordinates can ever afford? I stand here today to reaffirm my allegiance to house Darke and house Aex-Igh."

Never could Ethelston imagine this moment, but as Ithelred said his final words, the Knight Inquisitor bent down on one knee and lowered his head, within a moment, like dominoes, the other Lord's of the Ravenscourt province were in similar positions.

"Rise, all of you," Ethelston said, his face glowing with delight, "For we have to make preparations for an impending seige."

As the Lords stood, there was no longer a voice of discontent roaming around the room, but a voice of purpose, a voice of excitement.

Lord Ithelred made his way directly towards the affirmed Duke of Ravenscourt, but no smile appeared on his lips; instead, a small scowl could be seen behind his bushy greying eyebrows.

He stood to Ethelston's side, deliberately posing as his equal, and not a subordinate.

"I thank you, Lord Ithelred, for your continued support, I hope we can continue and build upon the understanding that you had with my father." Ethelston smiled.

Ithelred's piercing cold blue eyes turned towards his liege. "You owe me, boy. Without me, your little coup would be over before it started. You owe me one thing, and then our slate is clean."

A frustrated gasp quietly slipped out of Ethelston's mouth. His insolence and insubordination sparked rage within him, yet, the comments were accurate. At this time, he needed the Knight Inquisitor more than ever. "Speak."

"Your uncle, " Lord Ithelred exclaimed, "I want Lord Millendahl in my custody immediately."