Because I Love You✔️

Chapter 159: King Grinwald's Decision

Chapter One Hundred and Fifty Nine: King Grinwald's Decision

There was only one thing keeping Vrael from falling apart.

He didn't think anyone would want to go along with the plan for declaring war once the rest of the facts were laid out on the table for everyone to see. He was still reeling with shock about the news of Sinmir's wife and son, as was Amelia.

She clung to his arm with trembling fingers as they followed Sinmir and Yuragh through the castle, through long halls and dark arched doorways, and then down a winding stone staircase, down and down forever.

When they reached a series of damp, torch-lit tunnels, it took him a while to notice that the torches were nothing but tarred sticks jammed into holders. 

He rubbed his arms uneasily as goosebumps rose on them, shivering as they marched past a series of archways leading into a vast kitchen.

Dozens of loud, cheerful, grease-splattered men and women laughed and chattered with each other as they turned spits above roaring fires and brewed concoctions of some sort in great iron pots. 

The smell of roasting meat and delicious food wafted across Vrael's face, then they left the kitchen with its charring meat and large pots behind.

Gradually, they left the smell behind, too, and then it was up and up a long stairway, and at the top of the stairs, just as his thigh-muscles began beginning to protest, Vrael found himself emerging through one of several doors and into another grand hallway. 

He immediately noted that the décor here was the best that he'd seen in the entire castle so far.

The ceiling arched overhead, and huge, intricately carved timbers supported the roof. Beautiful tapestries depicting things from long ago hung on the walls.

The floor was paved in lustrous black marble that echoed flatly with every footstep they took, and it was so clean that it reflected everything almost as well as a mirror.

He saw an immense doorway straight ahead and straightened slightly as he walked because eyond it was a long crimson carpet that had been laid across black marble flooring.

The door stood open with flickering yellow light coming from beyond, and suddenly, he was found himself walking into a room so huge that it could have been a cathedral.

At the end of the red carpet was a set of grand stairs, and atop them, was a massive throne and the wall behind it, very high up, were narrow arched windows that glowed dully with gray light. 

The King of Adanac was sitting in the throne, leaning to one side and quietly scrawling something across a piece of parchment with a quill and inkpot by his side. 

Vrael examined him in dazed amazement, since the man greatly resembled his nephew in appearance: they both had the same long, wild cornflower blonde hair, the same sort of wild, unkempt beard, and even the same storm grey eyes, with bushy blonde brows framing them. 

But the similarities ended there.

King Grinwald was old, likely in his late forties or early fifties, and age had hit him hard. His face was creased and lined with worry marks, weathered by the passing of time, but surprisingly, he was no less handsome for it.

His boots were made of knee-high, shining, supple-looking black leather trimmed in silver fur. His trousers were a deep crimson, and the long, belted shirt he sported was made of golden chain mail emblazoned with the crest of the Ein Vindrael royal family. 

Gathered across his collarbones was a golden chain with a fur from some sort of huge white beast. He didn't even seem to notice their arrival, focused as he was with writing, but Vrael knew that he didn't need to because he could feel the man's power.