The King's Gilded Warrior || Wattys 2023

CHAPTER SIX

In the opulent study of the King's wing, Rhadmanthus, the ruler of the realm, sat upon his intricately carved throne-like chair, his lavender eyes filled with a mix of intrigue and curiosity. Across from him stood his trusted advisor, Buri, a man of sharp intellect and unwavering loyalty.

As the room exuded an aura of regal splendor, the King leaned forward, his voice laced with a tinge of fascination. "Buri, I must speak to you about the woman I encountered today—Lyra. She possesses an extraordinary talent, unlike anything I have witnessed before."

Buri's brows furrowed slightly as he contemplated the matter. His gaze held a mix of intrigue and cautious skepticism. "Your Majesty, I must admit, her abilities have piqued my interest. It is highly unusual for a woman to possess such exceptional combat prowess. I cannot help but wonder about her origins and what led her to acquire such skill."

Buri had observed the interaction between Lyra and the King with a mixture of intrigue and suspicion. He couldn't help but notice how the King's eyes lingered on her, not only captivated by her physical beauty but also deeply intrigued by her kindness and selflessness. The way she risked her own safety to save the children had left a lasting impression on the King.

Buri leaned against a nearby table, his voice laced with suspicion. "Your Majesty, forgive my bluntness, but we must consider the possibility that Lyra may not be what she appears to be. Her sudden appearance and remarkable combat skills raise valid concerns."

Rhadmanthus nodded in agreement, his gaze sharpening. "You speak wisely, Buri. We cannot afford to dismiss these doubts. I want you to discreetly delve into her background, uncover any connections or hidden agendas she might have."

Buri's eyes gleamed with determination. "Rest assured, Your Majesty, I shall leave no stone unturned. I will investigate her origins, question those who might have knowledge of her, and discreetly observe her actions within the palace." Buri said while bowing and leaving the room.

Rhadmanthus stood by the window, his gaze lost in the vastness of his kingdom. The images of Lyra, the enigmatic woman who had become a constant presence in his thoughts, danced in his mind. The more he tried to understand his fascination with her, the deeper his curiosity grew.

"Lyra," he whispered her name, his voice barely audible. It felt like a secret, a confession to the winds that whispered outside his window. Rhadmanthus was accustomed to the attention of noble women, their beauty and charm constantly vying for his favor. Yet, Lyra was different. She held an inexplicable allure that eluded his comprehension.

The King's heart beat faster, a sensation he had not experienced in a long time. He yearned to unravel the mysteries that surrounded her, to delve into the depths of her being. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, consumed by a desire he couldn't fully comprehend.

As he pondered over his feelings, Rhadmanthus couldn't ignore the primal urges that surged within him. Lyra's presence, though shrouded in mystery, awakened a hunger in him that he had never felt before. Her fae-like appearance masked a captivating aura that stirred his senses, her scent tantalizing and elusive, like a forgotten memory on the tip of his tongue.

There was something intoxicating about her, something that made him want to possess her, to know every secret she held. He longed to unravel the enigma she presented, to explore the depths of her soul. It was a hunger that went beyond physical attraction, a yearning to understand the woman who had bewitched him so.

Lost in his thoughts, Rhadmanthus made a decision. He would invite Lyra to his presence, to the ball he planned in her honor. It would be an opportunity to spend more time with her, to unravel the secrets she carried and explore the depths of their connection. The flame of intrigue that burned within him could no longer be ignored; it needed to be stoked, allowed to grow into a blaze that would consume them both.

With determined steps, Rhadmanthus left the window and moved towards his desk. He would send for Lyra, extend his invitation, and see where fate would lead them. The kingdom awaited its ruler, but his heart yearned for the mysterious woman who had ignited a fire within him, a fire he was determined to chase. As he drafted the invitations with meticulous care, the King couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The ball would serve a dual purpose—to publicly acknowledge Lyra's bravery and to provide him with an opportunity to know her better.

But the ball alone would not suffice. Rhadmanthus desired to bestow upon Lyra a royal title, a symbol of his admiration and gratitude for her selfless act. He wished to elevate her status, to grant her the privileges and honors befitting her extraordinary character. It was a gesture that spoke not only of his infatuation but also of his profound respect for her.

With each stroke of the pen, the invitations took shape, bearing the seal of the royal house. Rhadmanthus knew that the ball would be a momentous occasion, a turning point in both of their lives. It would be an opportunity for him to express his feelings and for Lyra to step into a world she had only glimpsed from afar.

As he sealed the invitations, the King's thoughts drifted to the grandeur that awaited. The ballroom would be adorned with shimmering chandeliers and adorned with fragrant flowers, a testament to Lyra's significance in his life. He imagined the moment when he would present her with her new title, the awe and joy that would light up her eyes, forever binding her to him in the eyes of the kingdom.

Rhadmanthus knew that the path he had chosen was not without risks. It was a gamble of the heart, a leap into the unknown. But the prospect of a future with Lyra, of exploring the depths of their connection, was worth every ounce of uncertainty. The ball would be the beginning of their journey, a celebration of their shared destiny.

With a final stroke of the pen, the invitations were complete. Rhadmanthus leaned back in his chair, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. The stage was set, and he eagerly awaited the day when he would see Lyra's radiant presence gracing the ballroom. It would be a night of revelry, where he would proclaim his admiration and gift her with a royal title, solidifying her place by his side, he would have it no other way.