King Heimdal entered through the heavy wooden doors of the justice hall. Knights stood rigidly at attention, polished armor gleaming under the morning light. He walked with measured steps, each one deliberate and unyielding. His deep golden robe trailed behind him, trimmed with white fur that kissed the cold stone floor. A golden crown rested on his head, heavy with rubies and diamonds.
Knights bowed low as he passed, fists clenched over hearts in silent salute. Courtiers stepped aside, heads bowed in reverence, their whispers falling silent in his presence.
Lara lifted her head and watched the King’s grand entrance. When everyone else was bowing down, she watched him curiously. She had seen kings entering their court only in movies. She thought then that the bows and rigidness of the knights were an exaggeration, but witnessing it firsthand, Lara did not know how to feel.
Suddenly, King Heimdal turned his head, and for a moment, their gazes locked. He had the same obsidian eyes as Alaric. He stared at her, his gaze stern, sharp and unyielding.
General Odin’s senses were keen. He felt that something shifted in the air and when he looked up, he found the king staring at the person standing beside him — Lara.
His heart almost skipped a beat. He swiftly placed at Lara’s back. Of course, she understood the gesture. She looked and bowed.
The king ascended to the platform and settled into an ornate seat with a slow exhale, and the hall erupted in a unified chant of loyalty.
His gaze was stern, eyes sharp and unyielding, surveying the room with the confidence of one who held absolute power.
He surveyed the room with the confidence of one who held absolute power, his eyes sharp as the eagle’s. It lingered a little bit longer on Lara’s before it shifted to the three princes standing below the platform.
Rustles were heard as everyone found their seat and settled.
General Odin leaned to his left for Lara was and he whispered, "Why did you not bow when the king was passing by earlier?"
Lara met her father’s gaze, "I bowed, but after some time, I looked up. I wanted to see how a true king enters the court and walks to his throne."
Her father was baffled. What is so special about that?
The hall stirred with anticipation as the Minister of Rites stepped forward, and officially opened the ceremony. His voice echoed grandly all throughout the courtyard. Generals and soldiers were called to receive their accolades, the hall resounding with names etched in valor.
From the Norse family, Asael, Bener, Gideon, and Percival were summoned, each stepping forward with the pride of soldiers baptized in fire. Galahad had already received his commendation alongside General Odin during the first round.
General Odin rose from his seat, his imposing figure commanding attention as he interjected with due respect towards the Minister of Rites. "There is one more member of the Norse lineage," he declared, his voice resonating with authority. "Kane Mendel, in your roster. She is also one of my children."
A ripple of gasps coursed through the assembled crowd, a wave of surprise and intrigue washing over the audience. Whispers began to flicker among the generals, their eyes wide with astonishment as they exchanged glances, pondering the implications of this unexpected revelation.
General Odin finally admitted that he has a child outside?
How could it be? I don’t believe Odin has a child from a woman other than his wife. He is so dedicated.
Heh. Didn’t you hear him admit that Kane Mendel is also his child?
I knew it. Kane Mendel looked so much like Asael.
Odin ignored the murmurs, his hand resting protectively on Lara’s shoulder as he guided her forward. His eyes were unyielding, daring anyone to challenge the bloodline he had just publicly acknowledged. When their steps halted, Odin bowed briefly to the Minister of Rites before retreating to his seat, leaving Lara standing beside her brothers and in front of the three princes.
A hush descended as the Minister of Rites turned to face the king, the ceremony continuing with due formality. One by one, the soldiers were presented, their feats recited for all to hear.
Lara’s gaze landed on Prince Alaric, and their eyes locked for some time.
Reuben thought the young man in front of him looked effeminate for a soldier. He cast a disdainful look at Alaric before leaning closely and whispered into his ear. "So brother, is that the type you like?"
Prince Alaric stared back at him before muttering, "You are not only an idiot but also blind."
Prince Reuben was enraged. He clenched his fist and was about to lash out when the Minister started reading the text from his parchment.
"Asael Norse," the Minister began, his voice unwavering, "brave leader of the Eagle Team, instrumental in solving the conflict at Graza Pass and subduing the ambush on Meander Pass." Applause thundered through the hall.
"Bener Norse," he continued, "despite heavy losses, defended the eastern flank of Calma with unyielding resolve, even when greatly outnumbered."
"Gideon Norse, commander of the strike that obliterated the provisions of Berde, severing the enemy’s lifeline, making it easy for our Northem soldiers to take back what is ours."
"Percival Norse," the Minister paused, his gaze lingering on the youngest, "though still young, stood alongside Galahad to subdue the resistance in Kahel."
The Minister of Rites paused to give people the time to absorb all that he said.
Pride flickered in General Odin’s eyes, a mist softening their steely edge. His sons—each one carving their name into the annals of history. Around him, murmurs of admiration and envy stirred. Odin’s legacy was unblemished—envied by others.
Some generals and other high-ranking officials looked at General Odin with jealousy. All his sons performed well in the last war.
One general has a particularly dark face with clenched fists— Marlon Norse. He was reminded that his son, demoted by one rank because of his carelessness. He was held hostage and caused a severe injury to his cousin and the death of one soldier of the Eagle Team. Marlon’s gaze smoldered with resentment as he watched Odin bask in unbroken glory.
The Minister of Rites hesitated, his eyes drifting to Lara. He scanned the parchment in his hands, voice softening with reverence.