CHAPTER 13: THE CROWN’S LEDGER [1]

The High Hall was quiet when the council gathered again. This was their third meeting in less than a fortnight, and everyone was worried indeed. War was no longer just a possibility, it was becoming a reality. The king’s council sat at a long table.

This time, it was Lord Daryn Halstone who spoke first.

He rose slowly, cleared his throat, and adjusted the silver clasp on his robe. Halstone was known for many things: his quick thinking, his clever tongue, and unfortunately, his habit of always playing both sides. Though he worked hard for the kingdom, everyone knew he had one hand on his sword and the other in someone else’s coin pouch.

"My king," he began, with a respectful bow. "Forgive me for bringing up such matters at a time like this. But with war at our doorstep, there is something urgent we must address, your daughter, Princess Nyella."

A few heads turned.

"I believe it is time she was wed," he said firmly. "If not for anything, but for security. If war breaks out and God forbid, anything happens to you, Your Majesty, the realm must not be left uncertain. A son-in-law who is strong and trustworthy, can protect her, protect the line, protect the crown."

A murmur rose from the other lords.

Halstone pressed on, "The princess cannot fight on the frontlines. We all know this. She may be brave, but war is no place for royalty without a proper shield at their side. A marriage now, before the storm hits, may save us all."

He paused and waited. The room went quiet.

The king stood up. His voice was low, but every word was striking.

"How dare you," King Tharyn said, slowly walking toward Halstone. "How dare you speak of my death so casually, as if it’s something you expect?"

Halstone blinked. "No, Your Grace, that is not what I meant..."

"It is exactly what you meant," the king snapped. "You dress it in concern and call it strategy, but I hear it clearly. You want me gone. Or you expect me to fall."

Halstone’s face drained of color. "I meant only to protect the throne..."

"By marrying off my daughter like she’s a shield you can plant in the ground?" the king’s voice rose. "I see right through you, Daryn Halstone. And I’ve had enough of your scheming."

The other lords lowered their heads. Some even leaned back, hoping to avoid being caught in the king’s fury.

King Tharyn turned to the entire hall.

"Let it be known," he said with a loud voice, one that echoed across the chamber, "any man, noble or low, who dares to speak of Princess Nyella’s marriage again before this war ends will be seen as one who wishes for the king’s death. And I will treat him as a traitor."

Everyone went silent and then, slowly, another figure stood.

It was Lord Vanýr.

He had been silent for most of the meeting, quietly sipping his wine while the others argued. But now, he spoke calmly and deliberately as always.

"My king," he said, bowing slightly. "If I may speak without offense..."

The king gave a small nod, though his face still looked angry.

Vanýr continued, "You say that no one must mention the princess’s marriage. Understood. But there is still the matter of leadership. The people look to their rulers in times like this. They want to see strength and certainty. They want to know that someone is in control."

He paused, letting the words settle.

"And while I agree the princess is exceptional, strong, smart, and deeply loyal, she is still... a woman. There are things even she may not be able to do."

The room was tense. Vanýr who was unshaken, kept going.

"And yet, if you insist she is capable of leading, perhaps we test that belief."

"How do you mean?" the king asked coldly.

Vanýr sat straight.

"The Crown’s Ledger."

Gasps and murmurs swept across the chamber.

Vanýr’s voice grew firmer. "The Crown’s Ledger is the oldest tradition in the wartime preparation of our kingdom. When conflict is on the horizon, a royal must personally survey the strength of our army, meet the generals, visit the battalions, and assess the enemy’s reach. That is the way of the old. That is how kings prepare for battle."

He looked directly at the king.

"You say the princess is strong enough. Then perhaps... she should carry the Crown’s Ledger."

All eyes turned to King Tharyn, and the tension in the room increased as everyone was amazed at how Lord Vanýr gutted the king.

The King shot to his feet full of anger. He raised his hands again and pointed them at Lord Vanýr with so much anger. But before a single word could leave his mouth, a voice echoed outside the halls of the council chamber.

"Father!"

All heads turned instantly toward the doors.

"Our enemies are closing in. War is at our doorstep. Please... allow me to fulfill my duty as a member of the royal bloodline. Let me carry the Crown’s Ledger."

Everyone in the room paused as the doors were shut. Gasps escaped from every corner of the council as Princess Nyella stepped into the hall.

She walked calmly into the room, and then, to everyone’s shock, dropped to one knee before the throne.

"This is not just my right," she said with a steady voice. "It is my responsibility. In times like this, the Crown Prince or Princess must lead the defense of the realm. Do not deny me what I was born and trained to do. This is my moment, Father."

The room was completely silent. Even Lord Vanýr couldn’t say anything as he, too, was shocked. The king stood frozen with his mouth slightly open. He slowly collapsed back onto his throne as he was really exhausted with all that had been happening for the past few hours.

No one had expected this. Not from Nyella. Not today.

"..."

"..."

Later that night, the king stood in his private chamber, pacing slowly. Princess Nyella quietly entered the room with her hands behind her back and her head slightly bowed.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked.

The king turned to her. His face looked tired and older than it had ever looked.

"For years," he began with a soft voice, "I’ve prayed this day would never come."

Nyella looked confused.

"What day?"

"The day when you, my daughter, would be dragged into the consequences of the choices made by cruel men. That the weight of this kingdom would fall on your shoulders too."

Nyella’s eyes didn’t flinch. "And yet... here we are."

She cut the king and continued with a firm and grounded voice. "You’ve always told me not to run from truth, Father. You trained me to face it head-on. So I am. You say you don’t want me to go to war, but you made me strong for this very moment."

The king turned away. "I trained you to be strong, yes. But not for this. Not for this world, with its cruelty. I wanted you to rise above all that. I wanted you to be safe. I wanted to shield you."

She stepped forward. "Safe?" she asked quietly. "What’s safe in a kingdom that’s being eaten alive from within? What’s safe in hiding when the people who look up to us are bleeding and begging for help? You told me, Father. You told me the crown is a burden. But you also told me we must carry it when it is our turn. Well... this is my turn."

The king’s eyes was full of tears. "You’re still my little girl," he whispered. "The one who used to run through the gardens chasing dragonflies. I see you standing before me, dressed for war, but in my heart, I see her. And I’m terrified."

Nyella knelt before him, not as a subject, but as a daughter.

"I know," she said softly. "But I’m not that little girl anymore. I have your blood. And if you trust me, truly trust me, I will not fail you."

The king looked at her long and hard. Then slowly let out a breath."Are you certain this is what you want?" he asked again.

"Yes," Nyella said. "I do, my king."

For a long moment, the king said nothing. Then, quietly, he chuckled, bitter and proud all at once.

"In as much as I want to lock you away and keep you from this... I know I can’t. You’ve made your choice."

He walked to her and placed a trembling hand on her shoulder.

"Very well, my daughter. I will send word to the generals and make every preparation to ensure you are safe... and that you return."

"Thank you," she whispered, rising to her feet.

He nodded.