Chapter 9. The Mini Bang
Dian's gaze fell for an instant before he returned to the Duke. "We tracked down the camp of the bandits. It was... empty. There were definite signs of a battle—blood all around, shattered weapons—but no corpses. No survivors. No lead on what they did."
Maria's face grew white. "No bodies?" she whispered, her voice near inaudible. "What could have committed something like this?
"We don't know, My Lady," Dian replied, his voice weighed down. "It's like as if someone or something erased them entirely and left without a sign."
The room become silent, the unanswered questions suspended like a heavy weight.
Duke Alaric lifted his hand, his expression unreadable as he motioned for Dian to halt. "Investigate this," he stated curtly. His eyes flicked to the severed limbs on the table. The room was silent as he gazed at them, his red eyes betraying feelings he attempted to conceal. A long moment later, he spoke to the butler hovering near.
"Prepare for the funeral," he ordered, his voice steady even though his pain was clear.
The butler bowed deeply. "Yes, Your Grace."
Maria placed a shaky hand on Alaric's shoulder, her touch both gentle and firm. "I'll take care of the funeral arrangements," she said quietly. "You need to focus on... everything else."
Alaric nodded curtly, his wide shoulders dipping beneath the burden of his sorrow and responsibilities. He remained quiet, his gaze upon the tragic form of his son.
The soldiers departed individually, their faces stern as they granted the Duke and Duchess privacy to mourn.
Duke Alaric settled back in his chair, his eyes closing momentarily.