ROYAL BLOOD 👑

Chapter 3: Bonds of Courage

At Master Thorne's cottage, the glow of candlelight flickered through the windows, casting warm pools of illumination on the worn wooden floorboards. The cottage itself stood nestled among the trees, its thatched roof blending seamlessly with the surrounding landscape. Wisps of smoke curled from the chimney, carrying with them the scent of burning wood and herbs.

Inside the cottage, the atmosphere was equally subdued, the silence broken only by the crackling of the fire in the hearth. Master Thorne sat hunched over a small table, his weathered face illuminated by the soft glow of the candlelight.

As three cloaked figures emerged from the shadows and approached Master Thorne's cottage. The old storyteller greeted them with a mixture of wariness and recognition, his eyes betraying a hint of concern.

"Gentlemen," he acknowledged, his voice tinged with cautious respect. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

The tallest of the three figures stepped forward, his features hidden behind a mask. "We bring news regarding our mutual friend," he replied cryptically, his voice low and guarded.

Master Thorne's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Lysander, though he kept his expression carefully neutral. "I trust the news is favorable?" Master Thorne inquired, though he already feared the worst.

The masked man shook his head solemnly. "I'm afraid not," he confessed, his tone heavy with regret. "He has been apprehended."

Master Thorne's heart sank at the news, though he had anticipated such a development ever since Lysander had confided in him about the queen's nefarious plot to frame him for Lena's disappearance. The queen's malicious schemes knew no bounds, and now Lysander had fallen victim to her treachery.

Elara, who had been lurking in the shadows, listened intently to the conversation, her curiosity piqued by the cryptic exchange.

"What happened?" Master Thorne pressed, his voice tinged with concern.

The masked man sighed heavily. "The queen's accusations were swift and severe," he explained. "Despite our efforts to protect Lena, I'm afraid Lysander was captured and imprisoned. And in a cruel twist of fate, an innocent child was burned at the stake in Lena's place, wearing her clothes."

Elara's heart constricted with horror at the revelation, her mind reeling with the implications of the queen's malevolence. She struggled to comprehend the depths of her depravity, even as Master Thorne and the masked men exchanged grave looks.

"What are we to do now?" Master Thorne asked, his voice laced with resignation.

The masked men conferred silently amongst themselves before turning back to Master Thorne. "We must act swiftly to rescue him," the tallest one declared. "But we must tread carefully. The king is enraged, and Lysander life hangs in the balance."

As the masked men prepared to depart, Elara felt a surge of determination coursing through her veins. She couldn't bear the thought of remaining idle while Lysander languished in danger, while the castle teetered on the brink of turmoil. Stepping forward with newfound resolve, she intercepted Master Thorne before he could bid the men farewell.

"Master Thorne," she began, her voice trembling slightly with urgency. "I cannot simply stand by and watch as Lysander faces this peril alone. I must be a part of this, to lend my aid in freeing him from the clutches of darkness."

Master Thorne regarded her with a furrowed brow, his expression a mixture of concern and reluctance. "Elara," he replied gently, his tone tinged with caution. "You know not the dangers that await us, nor the risks we face in defying the queen's machinations. This is no task for a mere maid."

Elara flinched at the harsh words, her heart sinking with disappointment. But Elara remained resolute, her gaze unwavering as she met Master Thorne's gaze. "I may be but a humble servant, Master Thorne," she persisted, her voice tinged with determination. "But I cannot turn a blind eye to the injustices. Lysander needs our help, and I cannot stand idly by while he suffers."

Master Thorne sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging with the weight of the decision that lay before him. "Elara," he began, his voice laced with reluctance. "You know not what you ask of me. The dangers we face are grave, and the consequences of failure dire. I fear for your safety, child."

Elara's resolve hardened, her eyes shining with determination. "I understand the risks," she insisted, her voice unwavering. "But if we wait for the right moment, it may never come. We cannot allow Lysander to languish in captivity while we sit idly by. We must take action, now."

Master Thorne hesitated, his gaze flickering between Elara and the three cloaked figures standing in the room. "And what do you propose?" he asked, his voice tinged with skepticism.

Elara took a deep breath, steeling herself for the task ahead. "I propose that I infiltrate the castle," she said, her voice steady. "As a maid, I can move about unnoticed, gathering information about Lysander's whereabouts. Meanwhile, you and these men can remain here and await my return. If I succeed in locating Lysander, we can plan our next move from there."

Master Thorne hesitated, torn between his desire to protect Elara and his recognition of her unwavering resolve. Finally, with a heavy heart, he relented. "Very well," he conceded, his voice tinged with resignation. "But know this, Elara—the road ahead will be fraught with peril, and the dangers we face will test the very limits of your courage and strength. Are you prepared to face what lies ahead?"

Elara nodded solemnly, her heart steadfast in its commitment to aiding Lysander in his hour of need. "I am," she declared, her voice steady despite the flicker of uncertainty that lingered in her heart.