Chapter 6 - Whispers in the Citadel
Twilight draped over Rosehaven like a veil of bruised velvet. The frantic panic of the afternoon had settled into a nervous, watchful hush across the city. News of what transpired in the Royal Arena had traveled through the alleys and taverns faster than any royal decree could follow. Citizens bolted their doors, whispering of the three-headed beast that had marched freely through the southern gate toward the mountains without harming a single civilian.
Inside the Royal Citadel, the vast corridors were eerily silent. Servants had fled or locked themselves in the pantries, leaving the marble halls echoing with the solitary footsteps of Captain Gideon Hale.
Gideon walked briskly toward the Grand Council Chamber, his armor removed, wearing only a simple wool tunic and his service trousers. In his hand, he carried the heavy iron signet ring of the City Watch.
When he pushed open the heavy oak doors, he found General Vane sitting at the head of the massive mahogany table—a table traditionally reserved for the king and his highest advisors. Maps of Eldoria were spread out across the polished wood, illuminated by a single brass oil lamp.
Elias sat nearby, casually tossing an apple from hand to hand, looking less like a revolutionary savior and more like the kitchen boy he had pretended to be just hours before.
"The eastern gates are secured," Gideon announced, stepping into the room and closing the heavy door behind him. "The militia has taken control of the granaries to prevent looting. The nobles who didn't flee are barricaded in their manors, sending frantic letters asking what our intentions are."
General Vane looked up from a map detailing the mountain passes. "Tell them their taxes are cut by half, the export tariffs on grain are lifted, and the emergency military council will hold an open forum at dawn."
Gideon raised an eyebrow. "Just like that? No trials, no mass arrests?"
"Trials imply we are seeking vengeance, Gideon," Vane said, his voice calm and steady. "We aren't here to cleanse the court in blood; we're here to clean it of illusions. Alaric is locked in his solar with a bottle of imported wine and his shattered pride. Let him dwell on his ghosts. We have a city to rebuild."
Elias caught the apple, took a crisp bite, and looked at Gideon. "Don't look so worried, Captain. Running a kingdom isn't all that different from running a royal kitchen. You just need to make sure the water is clean, the fire is controlled, and the people aren't fed garbage."
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Gideon let out a short, bark-like laugh, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders that he hadn't realized he'd been carrying for twenty years. "And what about Malachar?"
"Malachar is home," Vane said softly, staring into the flickering flame of the oil lamp. "A beast is only a monster when it's caged against its nature. Free it, and it becomes part of the landscape once more."
