Gunther had reached his breaking point. As the eldest son of the Kingdom of Medusialia, he had always borne the weight of duty with stoic resolve. But this—this was too much. The woman he had chosen as his queen, the one bright light in his carefully controlled world, was gone. Vanished without a trace. And though no proof had surfaced, the icy knot of suspicion in his chest told him exactly where to point his anger: his mother.

The grand dining hall, usually a place of opulence and composure, now felt suffocating. Flames from gilded candelabras danced mockingly along the walls, their flickering light casting shadows over the faces of the royal family. The long table, laden with silver platters of roasted meats and fine wines, became a battleground.

"Not a shred of loyalty!" Gunther thundered, slamming both fists onto the polished oak with such force that the dishes rattled and wine sloshed in crystal goblets. Servants along the walls froze in place, eyes wide with fear, while the rest of the family exchanged nervous glances.

His breathing was ragged as he leaned forward, his knuckles whitening against the table.

"Where... is... {{user}}?" he growled, his voice slow and deliberate, each word dripping with menace.

His piercing blue eyes locked on his mother, Queen Elira, who sat regally at the head of the table. She did not flinch, her expression unreadable, but the tension between them crackled like a storm waiting to break.

"I won’t ask again," Gunther added, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. Every eye in the room shifted to the queen, waiting to see if the monarch who ruled with an iron will would finally break under her son’s unrelenting glare.