Dawn crept over the capital like a wary intruder. The usual noices of merchants and carts never came. Instead, the city silent. No one shouted. No one sang. People walked with their heads down, avoiding eye contact, as if the very stones remembered the screams from the night before.
In the palace solar, the light filtered through tall, grimy windows. Dust hung in the air like judgment.
Elias stood stiffly before Alexius, report in hand. The old steward's face, lined with decades of loyal service, was clouded by unease.
"Your Majesty," he began, his voice uncharacteristically subdued, "the operation was… success. Seventeen dens dismantled. Over four hundred freed. The Crimson Veil's assets alone will keep the treasury stable."
"And the city?" Alexius asked, though he already knew.
"Afraid," Elias answered. "Afraid of you. Nobles locked in their manors. Merchants speaking in coded terms. They saw what happened to the Crimson Veil and understood the message."
Alexius said nothing. That had been the point.
"And the freed?" he finally asked.
"They're in the Menagerie. Safe, for now. But they're scared. Most haven't slept. Some don't even believe they're free. Your orders to house and feed them are being followed, but…"
"But we are running out of food," Alexius finished grimly.
Elias nodded.
Alexius exhaled slowly. He had not freed slaves—he had inherited a shattered people.
"I need to see them," he said, standing. "Now. No ceremony. Just an escort."
The Royal Menagerie had once been a display of Leo's wealth—lions in gold cages, birds fed with crushed almonds and fruit wine. Now, it was stripped of grandeur. Canvas tents flapped like torn banners, and the smell of unwashed bodies and damp earth had replaced the scent of imported perfume.
He was not greeted as a savior. He was watched—hundreds of wary eyes following his every step.
Most of the people huddled near the fires wore rags. Some had bandages hastily wrapped around burns, lashes, or broken limbs. Children clung to older siblings, while the old stared blankly into the distance, as though still trapped in invisible chains.
Near the center, two figures stood apart.
Lillia, tall and ethereal, whispered softly to a crying child, her hand resting gently on the girl's matted hair. She didn't look like a princess. She looked like a sister.
Cilia stood nearby, arms crossed, eyes constantly scanning. A beast-kin orc shifted too close and she murmured something sharp—he backed off instantly. Her people respected her. Or feared her. Likely both.
Cilia's heart beat faster when she saw Alexius approach. So the lion comes down from his hill. Let's see if he walks like a king or hides behind words.
He stopped in front of the crowd, speaking with no raised platform, no guards at his side.
"I won't insult you with pretty lies," Alexius began. "You were caged. Brutalized. Forgotten. By people who look like me." He paused, letting the weight of those words hang. "Now you find yourselves under my roof. That must feel like another trick."
Some murmurs rose. One orc spat into the dirt.
"You are not prisoners," he continued. "You are citizens of Leo, if you choose to be. Work will be offered. Coin will be paid. If you want to return home, we will help you do so—when the roads are safe."
He looked around. "But I will not hide this truth: the realm is sick. And if we do not stand together, we will all starve together. Also your realms are devoured or almost devoured by the Greedy Empires. I plan to counter that with you or without you. You have a choice. Please register or tell to the Royal Palace servants here they will help you with your desires. ", He said and everybody was suprised. "Elias, please do as I said". "As you command, Your Majesty", Elias replied and started taking registrations. Every freed men and women complies as it is clear as day what they have to choose.
Meanwhile, Lillia approached. Her eyes were tired, but steady.
"Grand Prince," she said quietly. "May we speak in private?"
Alexius nodded, and they stepped aside to the far end of the grounds, beneath the gnarled oak. Gregor waited nearby.
Lillia took a slow breath.
She had seen this man wield fire and steel without mercy. But now… now he looked exhausted. I sympathise for him. Even though he is so young and he recived such a big burden on his shoulder. She knew more or less about this realm from the slavers' coservations.
"What you did last night…" she began. "You risked everything. For us. I don't understand why."
"I didn't do it for you," Alexius said simply. "I did it because my kingdom won't survive if it is going this way itself."
He told her of the embargo, the coming famine, the monsters rising in the north. He said everything except about the system.
When he mentioned her power, obviously everybody know about the nature gifted elves, though something inside her twisted.
Lillia remembered the last time a human had asked for her gift. He'd called it beautiful before demanding she use it to feed his army. She had barely escaped with her life.
"My magic isn't as grand as what you think," she said, quietly but firmly. "It's not a tool. It's a song. The earth listens when it chooses. And most of your lands…" Her voice caught. "They scream. Or they are silent."
"I know," Alexius said. "But I'm not asking you to fix my kingdom. I'm asking you to try—for them." He nodded toward the camp. "They'll starve if we don't find a way."
She looked back, eyes resting on a child—thin, sharp bones beneath loose skin. He was chewing on a twig, pretending it was meat.
Lillia's chest ached. That could have been her little brother once. Before the humans came.
"I will try," she said at last. "But it will take everything. When I finish, I may not rise for days."
"Then we'll guard you like the kingdom's crown," he said instantly. "What do you need?"
"Unfertile, and uncorruppted land. Clean water. Silence. No watching eyes. And If…..you want you can…guard me ….alone. Only you ok?" while blushing.
"You'll have it," he promised.
A moment of silence passed between them. Then, for the first time, her lips curved slightly. It wasn't a smile of trust—but it was something.
As Alexius turned to leave, Cilia blocked his path. Her golden eyes glinted like a predator's.
"She agreed," she said. "You understand what that means?"
"I do."
"If she's harmed," Cilia said, her voice like ice over steel, "there is nowhere in this realm you can hide from me. I will find you. I will kill you. And I will do it slowly."
Her hands itched for her blades. She didn't trust men who made promises, especially when they came wrapped in silk and titles.
Alexius didn't blink. "She'll be protected as if she were the heart of Leo itself. Because right now—she is pericious to me."
Something flickered in Cilia's gaze. Jealously? May be.
Back in the palace, Alexius gave order his men immediately . A perimeter was to be cleared near the eastern riverbank—once used for sacred rites. Pure soil, no industry nearby. A shrine would be built. Clean water diverted.
His commanders looked at him as if he were crazy.
But he had seen hope bloom in a princess's eyes, and he would move heaven and earth to make it real.
And perhaps, just perhaps, this Realm could be rebuilt not by conquering—but by healing. (Continue…..)