Chapter 3: The Great Negotiation

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Brielle rolled over, attempting to get comfortable. Her body ached in contrast to the soft bedding she lay on. Her thoughts drifted from finding comfort in bed to remembering the events that had last taken place.

She shot up in bed as she was overcome with dreadful thoughts. She was taken in the early hours of the morning light, her Father proceeding her. And Brielle was now alone in an unknown place. She swung her feet to the edge of the bed, and her toes lightly touched the cool floor. She noticed that the room still allowed in some of the dusky sky outside, and that the sky was turning a purple color.

The room she was in was smaller than the one she resided in at home. This one had a sitting area adjacent to the bed which featured a fireplace and a warm looking rug. The fireplace was not lit, so the room began filling with a sting of coldness in the air. Brielle looked about the room, trying to piece together her surroundings.

A knock sounded on the door, so Brielle quickly chose to hide on the other side of the bed. She felt that if she could hide this may all go away.

The door to the room opened, and heavy footsteps entered breaking the silence of the room. A man walked over to the foot of the bed, and Brielle could feel him becoming aware of where she lay. He crouched down at the end of the bed, to where she was able to see him just a little.

Brielle was huddled within herself when she heard the man, "If you would like to approach the King, He is willing to see you now." She looked up slightly from her knees to see the Commander from earlier. He was still positioned some distance away from her, but she could see his face when the bed was not blocking him.

She took a breath, and positioned herself to be sitting on her knees. She leaned forward so that she could see the man more, but so that the bed was still mostly in between them, "And what if I do not?" She whispered to the man.

He looked to her, almost allowing a smile, "Than I'm afraid we will have one angry King." He whispered back. Brielle looked down herself.

"Maybe my Father will be there." She thought hopefully to herself. She stood and dusted herself off, preparing to make her way into unknown territory.  The Commander stood with her, but this time with almost a pitiful look displayed on His face. He motioned her towards the door of the room, and together they departed.

He slipped his hand to her waist and guided her through the halls they had found themselves in. Brielle became aware that she was in fact in a castle, and that she was probably in Hosensage. But as they walked she began feeling that she may have to approach the King and fight on behalf of her country alone, without her Father's help.

Worry showed on her face as she realized she does not even know the entirety of her Kingdom's state. She may be rendered useless or even a hindrance to her Father's plans. The man walking with her noticed her glum look and started, "I beg you will forgive me for the manner in which we met. I was unaware of many factors, thus leading me to handle you inappropriately."

Brielle continued walking with him, "What factors are you referring to, Sir..." She looked at him, rendering a response. And he did promptly offer one, "Sir Denco, your Highness. I am the King's Commander." He finished as the rounded a corner, approaching large oak doors.

Her former question never got answered, but Denco looked at her with a 'prepare yourself' look. He knocked on the doors and opened them, allowing Brielle to walk through. She entered an extremely high ceilinged room, which put her Father's throne room to shame. It was ornately decorated with opals and gold.

Pillars lined the sides of the room, directing her attention to the throne straight ahead. A man who looked older than her father sat, staring at Brielle with contemplation. He was not dressed how Brielle imagined a warrior King to be dressed. He looked to be wearing sheepskin pants and linen shirt. But he did wear a robe of King, greatly showing a magenta color decorated by jewels.

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