The castle loomed majestically against the expanse of the clear blue sky, evoking a sense of enchantment straight out of a child's storybook. Neil's gaze swept across the meticulously manicured gardens and hidden patios, each exuding an intoxicating blend of floral scents and intriguing corners waiting to be explored.
Neil's carriage stood upon the drawbridge, made of ancient wood. At one time, horses passed over it, carrying goods into the citadel within.
As the carriage approached, they saw that the walls were built of stones of varying sizes and shapes, each one unique. From a distance, it appeared uniformly gray, but up close, it was a mosaic of humble rocks, each of which nobody would think anything of were they loose by the roadside. Its structure was classical, taking inspiration from the Greek, French, and Roman monuments.
On the outskirts, hundreds of uniformed men were positioned. One of the guards opened the fortress gates for them to go in.
Neil was nervous yet thrilled. He had always wanted to see the marvel up close but not when he was shackled and likely to be executed.
Two men escorted Neil through the royal court. As they walked through the corridors, Neil's eyes wandered everywhere, taking in the intricate designs, extravagant decor, and paintings hanging on the walls. The walls themselves were adorned with tapestries depicting vibrant scenes, their threads whispering tales of heroic deeds and ancient legends.
Neil could feel the cool touch of marble under his fingertips as they brushed against the finely carved sculptures that adorned the grand hallways. The air carried a faint hint of polished wood and beeswax, a testament to the meticulous care taken in maintaining the opulent surroundings.
"The illegal Indian immigrant?" a man in a nice suit asked him.
Neil didn't particularly like the way he was addressed but reluctantly nodded.
"Come with me." They walked together while Neil's hands were still shackled behind him, which he deemed highly unnecessary. They stopped at the door that read 'Laws and Interventions Chamber.'
Inside, an old bald man was sitting on a wooden chair and organizing different books and parchments.
The uniformed man who had guided Neil to the officer handed him a parchment and a quill and asked him to sign at certain places.
"Can you sign? Or shall I get you some ink so you can place your thumbprints over the places I require your signature?"
Neil glared at him as the man removed his shackles. Once his hands were free, he snatched the quill from the man's hands.
The guard mumbled some more instructions, feeling the need to fill the dense air with some empty words, but Neil turned a blind eye toward him.
He was more interested in examining the piece of paper but couldn't understand most of the words written on the scroll.
Reluctantly, he signed over the places the royal guard had instructed him to do, and then they made their way to the royal court.
It seemed to Neil that they were walking endlessly; it was like being stuck in an endless maze. He came across a lot of interesting places on the way.
He saw the kitchen and could hear the chef's authoritative voice barking orders about cooking the steak to perfection, the sizzle of meat hitting the hot griddle resonating through the room. The rhythmic clanging of pots and pans created a symphony of culinary creation, accompanied by the tantalizing aroma of various spices mingling in the air. Wisps of smoke curled lazily from the simmering cauldrons, adding a touch of mystique to the bustling atmosphere.
Then he also saw the stables, his eyes beaming as the full view unfolded before him through the adjacent window. It reminded him of his encounters with Eryx and Peony. He hadn't mastered horse riding yet, but he was getting the hang of it.
The stables were nestled on the edge of a sprawling field, where the vibrant green of the grass met the colorful tapestry of the surrounding gardens and the mysterious allure of the castle's encompassing forests.
Neil watched as stable hands darted in and out of the wooden structure, their footsteps muffled by the soft earth beneath their feet. They carried armfuls of golden hay, their rough textures tickling Neil's senses as the fragrant aroma of the fresh fodder filled the air. Sacks of oats and barley were stacked neatly nearby, their contents ready to nourish the majestic creatures that awaited their caretakers' attention.
The rhythmic splashing of water mixed with the gentle bristles of brushes against horse hides, a soothing symphony of care and devotion.
One particular Armenian horse caught his eye. He halted in his steps when he saw a stable hand ruthlessly hitting the horse. He struck it with his fists, kicked it with his sturdy shoes, and whipped it. The horse neighed in pain and it built up the ache and anger in Neil as well.
'If they treat their fauna this way, then why would they show any courtesy to an outsider like me,' Neil thought.
He always looked up to Cascadia for its beauty and culture. When his father first showed him a painting of the place, Neil knew instantly that he wanted to travel there. But day by day, the illusion of a perfect, magical kingdom was melting away.
"Hey, why did you stop? You weren't permitted to do so." The guard stalked ahead and grabbed a fistful of Neil's hair and threw him forward.
"Don't forget your place, peasant. Now walk." He sneered.
Anger flared inside Neil's heart, but he didn't argue back; he kept walking and following the guard until they reached the court.
"Bring the next one in." The voice reverberated off the high walls of the court. The walls were adjourned with mirrors encased in gold frames and classical ancient paintings. The light from the numerous chandeliers reflected off the polished surfaces.
Dozens of miniature lavish seats lined up in an orderly fashion, and the aristocrats sitting on those seats watched Neil with utmost fascination.
That's when he saw the queen.
The queen's regal form was adorned in a flowing violet gown that cascaded elegantly around her, its hem teasing the ground with each step. Her untethered locks tumbled down, reaching past her elbows, their lustrous strands shimmering under the ethereal glow. Intricate chains intertwined with her crown, accentuating her carefree demeanor and ruby lips. While her beauty remained unparalleled in the kingdom, a flicker of malice danced within her opal eyes, leaving a sickening impression as her gaze fixed upon Neil."
Neil's heart raced as he immediately bowed before the queen, his voice filled with a mix of reverence and nervousness, "Your Majesty. If I may say, you look exceptionally lovely today."
"Oh, what a charmer," the queen replied, her smile both captivating and enigmatic.
"Tell me, do you know why you were requested here?" Her expression appeared sincere, but her tone carried a taunting edge that unsettled Neil.
"Yes, Your Highness. I am well aware, but I truly believe I have done nothing wrong," Neil spoke with unwavering confidence, though his mind churned with worry and uncertainty.
"How bold of you to assume that. Commander in Chief, please step forward and enlighten me on what the lad has been accused of," she commanded, her smile never wavering.
A tall, muscular man dressed in full armor rose from his opulent seat, the clinking of his gauntlets and the rustle of his tassels punctuating his movements. He bowed before the queen, his imposing presence demanding attention. "Your Majesty, the defendant has been accused of illegally crossing the borders, petty thievery, and illicit hunting in prohibited areas. As punishment, it has been deemed that he should spend eight years in the royal dungeons, alongside a fine of 20,000 silver Kruches."
Neil scoffed at the barbaric punishment, his disbelief evident, while the queen continued to display her sickly smile. "Do you plead guilty now?" she inquired, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and mockery.
"I don't, Your Majesty! I am being wrongly accused!" Neil's voice rose, fueled by frustration and a determination to prove his innocence.
"Do you have any evidence to support your claim?" the queen questioned, her gaze fixed on him.
"Well, let's start with the accusation of illicit hunting. As far as I remember, the deer I killed last week was sent to the royal kitchen for a feast. I can vouch for this, as Mr. Knight and I arrived in a carriage to deliver it. And as for petty thievery, I have never stolen anything in my life," Neil stated firmly, his words tinged with a mix of anger and desperation.
"Commander, did you grant access to any carriages entering the castle last week?" the queen inquired, turning her attention to the armored figure.
"No, Your Highness," the commander replied, his response causing Neil to clench his teeth in frustration.
"As for the accusation of horse theft, one of the royal stable's horses has gone missing. The stable head had filed a complaint several months ago, specifically mentioning a white Friesian horse. Does that ring any bells?" the queen questioned, her words striking Neil with surprise and uncertainty.
Neil's jaw dropped open, his mind racing with thoughts. 'How did they know about Eryx's horse? He wouldn't steal a horse, would he?' he questioned himself, his thoughts filled with a mixture of confusion and concern.
"Your Majesty, I..." Neil began to speak, his mouth opening and closing as he grappled with his words. Yet, the weight of the situation left him speechless, unable to form a coherent response.
"I had a liking for you, kid. It's a shame you'll be spending the next eight years rotting in the dungeons. However, today, I am feeling generous. Let us take a vote. If the majority votes 'not guilty,' I shall let you walk away without any repercussions. But to earn your freedom, you must entertain us," the queen proposed, her words ringing with both opportunity and challenge.
'Entertain you, you mean,' Neil thought, his mind racing with possibilities and the gravity of the situation sinking in.
Neil took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts amidst the tense atmosphere. He mustered the courage to speak up, his voice laced with determination, "Your Majesty, if I may be granted a bow and a few arrows?"
The queen flicked her hand dismissively, and in an instant, a servant presented Neil with a finely crafted bow and a set of arrows, gleaming in the sunlight. The polished wood and delicate engravings felt smooth under his touch.
His eyes fell on the large wooden table at the side of the queen's throne, adorned with expensive sets of porcelain and gold tableware. He noticed the smooth texture of the polished silverware and the delicate designs etched into the plates. A soft fragrance of roses filled the air, emanating from a vase of freshly picked blooms placed at the center of the table. His gaze then shifted to a majestic pyramid of exotic fruits, carefully arranged in a golden basket. At the pinnacle of the pyramid rested a gleaming apple, tempting and vibrant.
Neil's fingers gently gripped the bowstring as he positioned himself, his senses sharpening. The sound of hushed murmurs and whispered conversations faded into the background as he focused solely on the targetâthe apple. He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of the ripe fruits mingling with the faint hint of beeswax from the polished furniture. As he exhaled, a profound stillness enveloped him, drowning out the chaotic atmosphere of the court.
With practiced precision, he released the arrow, the string vibrating against his fingertips. The shaft soared through the air, propelled by his intent and skill. Time seemed to slow as it struck the apple's core, causing a satisfying thud that echoed through the hall. The fruit tumbled from its lofty position, the arrow piercing it with resolute accuracy before it clattered onto the floor.
A surge of pride swelled within him, but as Neil glanced around, he realized his feat had gone unnoticed. The courtiers remained engrossed in their own troubles, their faces etched with weariness and indifference. He cleared his throat, hoping to capture their attention, but only received a few disinterested glances and unimpressed looks.
He let out a resigned sigh, understanding that pleasing everyone was an impossible task, even with such a remarkable display. The queen hadn't granted him this opportunity for mere amusement; it required something far more extraordinary to leave an indelible impression.
Without thinking about the consequences, he removed an arrow and aimed it right at the queen's head, and released it.
Instantly, a loud ruckus ensued in the court as the arrow passed over the queen's head, slicing through the crown that was now lying on the floor. Instantly, there were swords placed around Neil's neck from all sides.
The queen stood up from her throne and walked toward Neil.
A/N
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