SCULPTURED DESIRE

Zyran stepped into the dimly lit chamber, where the king lay on his ornate bed, a figure of frailty surrounded by lavish silks. Shadows danced across the walls, enhancing the aura of illness that clung to the room.

As Zyran entered, the king slowly lifted his heavy eyelids, a glimmer of recognition sparking in his weary gaze. Despite his weakened state.

With deep reverence, Zyran lowered himself into a graceful bow, his forehead nearly touching the cool marble floor as he honored the king

"Your Majesty," he intoned, his voice steady and respectful, echoing softly in the hushed atmosphere."

"At last, my son returns," he exclaimed, propping himself up with the steadying hand of his loyal yeoman.

"Stand before me," the king commanded, his voice resonating with authority, and Zyran, feeling the weight of his father's gaze, rose to his feet.

"You have grown thin, your frame nearly as frail as my own," the king said, his voice tinged with remorse. He watched as the weight of his words seemed to settle in the air between them. "It must have been unbearable for you in that cold palace," he continued, his eyes lowering in a mix of shame and regret. "It was never my intention to cast you into such a bleak existence."

He sighed heavily, the weariness evident on his face. "The officials would never allow such a scandal to go unnoticed. They would have seized upon any opportunity to force my hand and have me dismiss you. I had to act before they could intervene," he explained, his tone heavy with the burden of responsibility.

"I dare not inquire about my punishment, Your Majesty," Zyran said, his voice low. The king returned a solemn nod.

"It is good to see you back," the king continued, his tone shifting to one of relief.

"Quickly, Abbey, summon the physician we cannot afford for Zyran to fall ill." He turned his gaze to his Yeoman, who stood ready and attentive, bowing deeply before hastening off to fulfill the royal command.

As soon as he was out, the king motioned Zyran over, and he walked up to him.

As the evening settled in around their base, Xi Feng quietly removed her attire, letting the cool air wrap around her as she freshened up. Once finished, she strolled back to her room, she found Jin Long already at the window, carefully pulling the last curtain down to keep the chill of the night at bay.

"The night is cold, you should wear something warm to bed," he advised, his voice a gentle murmur.

Xi Feng replied with a warm smile as she climbed into bed. Jin long matches up the fireplace to Keep the room warm; Xi Feng hates cold the most. His hands deftly arranged the duvet to ensure she was snug and comfortable.

"Are you going to pass by this time?" he asked, as soon as she was settled in.

"They would pay for the life they took from me," Xi Feng declared, anger lighting her eyes like fire.

The following morning, Xi Feng set off for the bustling village market to gather the raw materials they would need. The sights and sounds of the market surrounded her, the air thick with the aroma of freshly baked goods and the chatter of merchants calling out to customers.

"Oaken Vale is renowned for its exceptional variety and quality," Jin Long remarked as he scanned the stalls lined with colorful wares. "It seems they truly live up to their esteemed reputation." The tapestry of goods displayed before them sparkled under the morning sun.

"We need raw materials to manufacture our weapons," Xi Feng remarked, her brow furrowed as she scrutinized the unsatisfactory goods laid out before her. She felt a twinge of uncertainty about their quality.

"If we source our materials in such an indiscriminate manner, won't that reflect poorly on us? It could suggest we're desperate and low in standards," Roger countered, his tone sharp as he gestured for them to follow him leading the group away from the subpar selection.

They veered off into an underground market; The atmosphere was electric, filled with the chatter of vendors. Stalls were packed tightly together, overflowing with vibrant fabrics and mysterious items, each corner revealing something new.

Jin Long's eyes sparkled with approval as he surveyed the scene.

"Now that's more like it," he declared, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

Before them lay a display of brimstone and delicately crafted glass jade. The designs of the jewelry on display caught the eye, paired with an array of finely forged weapons.

Xi Feng paused at a weapon cart, her gaze sweeping over the meticulously arranged rows of armaments.

The craftsmanship was unparalleled each piece held a certain allure. She reached out and picked up a set of needles, marveling at their exquisite delicacy—thin and transparent as glass, they glistened with an ethereal quality that promised both beauty and danger.

"Beautiful," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she gazed at the delicate craftsmanship before her.

"It is, ma'am," the merchant replied a hint of pride in his voice.

"This is our finest collection. You won't find anything like it in any other stall." He gestured broadly.

Xi Feng inquired, "How much for this piece?"

The man narrowed his eyes, studying her carefully before raising and extending all five fingers.

"Five box?" she ventured, tilting her head slightly in confusion. He shook his head vigorously, his expression shifting to one of urgency.

"Five thousand boxes," she said surprised, at that moment Roger,unable to contain his anger, unsheathed his sword with a swift motion cursing explosively at the merchant. The man's face drained of color and he shrunk back in fear.