Dara's luck was truly astounding. As he plummeted from the golden castle, he narrowly missed the towering mountains that flanked the valley. A crash landing on those rocky slopes would have left him a shattered mess, unrecognizable even to his own father. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. He plunged into the rushing river that snaked its way between the mountains, disappearing from sight in a swirl of whitewater.
Taylor, who had witnessed the entire descent from the sky, knew instantly that the river would carry Dara away. Time was of the essence, and he had to find him, ensure his demise. The truth was, the sword he had used to stab Dara during the encounter wasn't the legendary God Killer sword, just an ordinary blade. Dara would survive, and if he did, he would rally the people against them, turning their carefully crafted plan into a catastrophic backfire. Dara was beloved, adored by the masses, and their actions would have dire consequences.
Panic surged through Taylor. He raced down the 
castle to the valley, scouring the riverbanks, the surrounding forest, and the vast ocean beyond. But Dara was nowhere to be found. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks: he had messed up, big time.
He needed help. Finding Dara and ending his life was a task too monumental for one man. He had to find a secret group, a hidden network of assassins, but time was slipping away. The news of Dara's disappearance would spread like wildfire, and the consequences would be dire. What was he to do? Maybe there was a better plan, a more cunning strategy. He needed to reach the princess, tell her what had happened, and together they could devise a solution. The princess's cold, calculating mind was their only hope.
Because if the news get to spread most especially from Dara that they are after his life then they are gone, their done!
         • At The Princess Mara's Room •
"He did what? What exactly did you just tell me? Please, just tell me you're joking. You don't mean it, do you? You're telling me he got away, just like that?" Mara's voice crackled with fury. The news had plunged her into a cold dread. She knew they were in grave danger, her brother Peter and her, both facing a fate worse than death. The kingdom, a bastion of righteousness, wouldn't tolerate such a transgression. Their crime, the attempted assassination of Dara, was punishable by death, an unforgiving law etched into the very fabric of their society.
"Yes, he got away!" Taylor confirmed, his voice a mere whisper against the storm of her anger.
"And how, exactly, could you have let him get away? How did he escape?" Mara demanded, her voice sharp as a blade.
"I'm sorry..." Taylor began, but his apology was swallowed by Mara's rage.
"Shut up! It's so simple! So simple, and yet you couldn't do it! You messed it up! And now we're all in danger, thanks to you! I gave you a sword that could kill him with a single stab! He was your closest friend! It was a simple task and you messed it up!" She said as she swallowed hard.
"And now what exactly are we going to do? You know we're all doomed, right?!" Mara's voice was a torrent of fury, her eyes blazing with anger.
Peter, who had been sitting silently by the side, observing the heated exchange, usually remained aloof, a silent observer. He rarely contributed to their problems, content to let the storm rage around him. But this time, something shifted. Their lives were at stake, and he knew he couldn't stay silent any longer. He had to act, to find a way out of this mess.
"Well, I think I have an option, a way we can get out of this mess," Peter said, rising from his chair and approaching them. "And I believe it's the only option we have left."
"I think the thing to do now is to sound the warning bell..." Peter began, but his words were cut short by Mara's sharp interruption.
"What? The warning bell? Are you crazy?" she exclaimed, her voice laced with disbelief.
"Just allow me to finish!" Peter insisted, his gaze shifting between Mara and Taylor. He needed to make sure they understood he was addressing both of them, not just one.
"If we ring the warning bell, we'll have to inform everyone that Dara killed our father. We'll have to tell them we just discovered this tonight, and that's why he ran away and escaped. Then we must bring justice by bringing him in for punishment, which is death! And then we can promise the people that they can help find him!" Peter concluded, his eyes fixed on their faces.
Mara, in turn, met their gazes, her expression a mixture of contemplation and intrigue. The plan seemed almost too perfect. If they could turn the people against Dara, he'd have no choice but to stay far away from the kingdom, effectively putting an end to their threat. But they had to act quickly, before Dara could rally support and turn the tide against them.
"I think what Peter said is right. I should do that immediately, as soon as possible!" Taylor declared, eager to leave the room and put the plan into action. However, Mara's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Taylor, please, you have to be careful out there. No one can know what's going on, not a single soul besides the three of us. Understand?" she cautioned, her voice laced with urgency.
Taylor nodded solemnly, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. He knew the secret they were keeping could mean the difference between life and death, and he was determined to do his part to protect them all. With a determined nod, he left the room, to go do exactly as they have all agreed on.
              • Ruth And Obed •
Obed had finished his bath, as had Ruth. They had shared a moment together, something special and enjoyable that Ruth had savored every bit of. It had been the most intimate experience she had ever known, and she would have happily done it again and again. But now, something felt different. Obed seemed distant, almost as if he wanted her to leave. He was beginning to act strange again, withdrawn, and wasn't even interested in eating.
"Come on, why don't you try some? The food is delicious, I made it myself," Ruth coaxed, carrying a plate overflowing with vegetables, meat, and fragrant spices that would make anyone's mouth water.
She even tried to feed him, but he remained unresponsive, his gaze distant and uninterested.
"I'm sorry, Ruth. I know you cooked it, but I just don't feel like eating right now. Please just keep it and go. Leave my room. If you're waiting for me to ask you to leave, just go. I need to sleep. I'm sure the princess needs you, so please go. Don't feed me, I can feed myself," Obed said, his voice harsh and dismissive. Ruth was heartbroken by his words. She simply stood up, placing the food on the table for him, and quietly said, "Alright then! Good night!"
Obed nodded, and as soon as she left the room, he rushed to lock the door behind her. He let out a heavy sigh of relief, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
"Oh, come on, Obed! What were you thinking? You knew she was desperate, and you still went ahead with it! Did you think having something with her would make her stay away? It just made her cling to you even more! It tastes terrible! She's so low-class, so beneath you!" Obed's voice boomed through the room, believing he was alone. He didn't know that Ruth was actually standing at the door, listening to his every word. The moment he finished his harsh statement and slumped back onto the bed, Ruth stormed out, anger burning in her eyes.
It was easy to see that Ruth was fed up with his constant belittling. Anyone would be angry. His words were cruel, especially considering she had feelings for him. If you don't like someone, you should redirect them gently, not talk about them like that behind their back. It's disrespectful, and it hurt Ruth deeply.
But it's time she moves on! he just doesn't like her and there is nothing she can do that would change that, obviously nothing at all.
Obed lay in bed, trying to sleep. He hadn't been asleep for five minutes when a loud, heavy bell rang and startled him awake. It was midnight, and everything was quiet. He wondered what the commotion could be about. He jumped out of bed, knowing it was a warning, a call for a gathering.