Tharal wasn't entirely satisfied when he heard what the king had ordered. This assignment didn't quite fit with his own plans.
Delar noticed his foster brother's reaction.
«I know what you're thinking, Tharal,» Delar said with a stern look. «But we have both been given a command by our father and we must both obey. When I leave, you will come with me and I will use force if I have to.
Tharal realized he had crossed a line in terms of what his brother could tolerate. He waited silently, and when Delar finally managed to calm down a bit, he said seriously:
«You won't have to do that. The king's wish is my command. I will accompany you, although it is not my desire.»
Delar stared at Tharal, and when he saw the remorseful expression on his face, his anger cooled. He nodded briefly and without saying another word, he left.
Delar walked quickly, struggling to maintain his composure. He headed towards his mother's beautiful winter garden.
As he entered, he slammed the golden doors shut with a loud bang. With a pained expression on his face, he leaned back against the door, slamming his head hard against it.
The relationship between Tharal and Miri had upset him more than he had expected. He was by no means jealous, but the deep feelings they had for each other had stirred something in him.
He had long tried to fight against the small seed that had taken root in his heart, but without success. He gritted his teeth and sank to his knees.
Resting his forehead in his hands, as he let out a low groan, he heard a soft voice:
«What is it, Delar? Why are you so upset?»
Delar rose quickly. Emerging from the shadows by the open door of the side room was a white-clad figure of a woman. It was his mother, queen Ametys. She approached him silently, and Delar, not wanting her to notice what was troubling him, quickly turned away.
Ametys stood still for a moment, then gently took his hand.
«My son, what is it? Is something wrong?»
Delar still stood with his back turned. His thoughts he could hide, behind an impenetrable wall that no one could see through, not even his mother.
But the emotions were not as easy to conceal. With each passing day, it became harder and harder for him to hold back the flood of unrest and turmoil that raced inside him.
«Delar,» Ametys said. She looked at him thoughtfully. «I can sense that something is bothering you. What it is, I don't know. But I'm hoping that you might want to tell me, so I can help you.»
Delar bit his lip.
«Sorry. But I can't say anything.»
«Why not?»
«Because it's too personal. Please forgive me, mother. But now I must go.»
Ametys opened her mouth to protest, but her son simply shook his head dismissively. He bowed and walked away.
That night, Delar struggled to sleep. His mind was filled with turbulent thoughts, and every time he tried to close his eyes, he was disturbed by "visions" flickering by. They were not unpleasant by any means, but they didn't bring him any peace either.
After tossing and turning countless times in bed, he couldn't take it anymore. He got up and, wearing only a silk robe, walked with soft steps to the window.
He sat on the sill, gazing at the starry night sky, heaved a deep and heartfelt sigh. He took out a flute, and with nimble fingers, he began to play a wonderful, melancholic melody that drifted out into the warm summer night air where fireflies danced.
