It had been eight nights and Pius had heard nothing from neither Fabien nor Cyprus. He suspected that the secret army he had mobilized in search of them would report to him any moment. He still couldn't shake of the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong. The feeling had always been there, only this time, it ate at him more disturbingly.He took a long look around his secret chamber, and mused at himself. He wondered what it would really take to feel like he truly belonged there. He poured his tea and took a long sip, wincing as it burned down his throat. A necessary feeling. He heard a knock. No one knew of his secret chamber except his son and his most trusted soldier. Thorax. The commander of his secret army. His guess was the latter and he desperately hoped he brought good news. He cleared his throat. "Come on in," he ordered.Thorax ushered himself in while bowing to his king, his face grim. " Your Grace, I'm afraid things have taken a wrong turn."His anger building ,
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