Gary woke before dawn, stirred by restless thoughts and the soft glow of an oil lamp near his bedside. Outside, the sky still held a shade of deep blue, hinting that the sun would rise soon. He stretched, feeling the cold air in his small, simple bedroom. The palace might have once been grand, but now its rooms felt plain and unadorned. A thin layer of dust covered the floor near the walls, and the single wooden chair by his table creaked whenever he moved it.

He dressed quickly, pulling on a worn tunic and fastening his belt. Soon, he made his way through the empty corridors, guided by the light of a few flickering torches set in iron holders. Stone walls cast long shadows that swayed as he walked. Somewhere ahead, a guard coughed, echoing off the high ceilings. Gary passed the same broken windows he had seen the day before, noticing the chill air slip through the gaps.

He found Sir Alden in the courtyard, already waiting with a small squad of knights. They wore mismatched armor—some pieces polished, others dented—and carried simple swords or spears. Nearby, a pair of horses stood saddled, their breath visible in the cold morning air.

Sir Alden saluted Gary. "Your Majesty, we leave at once for the border village. If Rodrik's men are indeed roaming near our fields, we must warn the locals and keep them safe."

Gary nodded, hands clasped behind his back. "Stay alert. We don't know how many of them there might be. Even if it's just a scouting group, I don't want any harm done to our people."

Alden bowed his head and mounted his horse, leading the squad out through the gate. The clatter of hooves on the worn cobblestone soon faded, leaving Gary alone with the early morning stillness.

He stood there for a moment, breathing in the cold air, thinking how fragile everything was. If the border villages lost faith in Arya's protection, they might flee or pledge loyalty elsewhere. And that would weaken the entire kingdom.

A slight sound behind him caused Gary to turn. Jenny appeared at the edge of the courtyard, wearing a cloak of dark fabric, her face partly hidden by the hood. She carried a small leather bag slung over one shoulder. Gary raised a hand in greeting. "You're awake early."

She offered a polite nod. "I've been gathering reports from traveling merchants. Many are worried about bandits or rogue soldiers. They say roads in the outer regions are unsafe."

Gary let out a slow breath. "Sir Alden just rode out with some knights to secure one of our border villages. It's all we can spare right now."

Jenny glanced at the gate where the knights had left. "We need more than swords," she said gently. "We need money and food. We need deals that bring coin into our coffers, or we won't be able to fund any sort of defense. I plan to visit the merchant guild today, if you approve. Perhaps I can strike a better agreement on trade routes."

Gary appreciated her direct approach. "I trust you. Whatever you can arrange will help. Just be careful. Not all merchants are honest."

She gave a wry smile. "I know that well, Your Majesty."

They walked together toward one of the side passages, where a small room served as a makeshift office. The room smelled of old parchment and ink. On a wooden table, a large map of the kingdom lay spread out, weighted at the corners by random objects—a rusted knife, a small statue, a stone paperweight, and a half-burned candle.

Jenny pointed to an area in the north. "I spoke with a trader who says there's still decent ore in these hills. If we reopen the routes here, we could move iron to the blacksmiths in the city and sell the surplus to nearby kingdoms. But to do this, we must ensure safe travel. Right now, bandits lie in wait on the roads. No merchant wants to risk losing everything."

Gary studied the map. "We lack the men to guard every road. Our knights are too few. Unless we form some deal with local farmers to patrol the routes, or hire a militia from the towns themselves..." He paused, feeling the weight of the many problems pressing in on him. "But that takes coin."

Jenny nodded. "Yes, and that's why I will speak with the guild. They might invest in their own guards if given favorable terms. A small tax break, perhaps, or a share in any profit from the iron. It's better than letting the roads remain lawless."

Gary thought for a moment, then rested a hand on the table. "Do what you must. I'll support you. But watch out for those who might try to cheat us."

She nodded, gathering her bag. "I'll head out now. The guild hall is on the far side of the city. I hope to return by midday with some news."

Gary escorted her to the courtyard gate, where she met a modest carriage drawn by two tired-looking horses. A young driver tipped his cap politely and helped Jenny inside. She waved farewell as the carriage rattled off along the uneven cobblestones.

Left alone, Gary felt a surge of anxiety. He was king, yet every day he realized how fragile his hold on Arya was. The castle was so quiet, the staff so few. Even the guards acted more out of loyalty than actual discipline. If not for Jenny's confident planning, or Sir Alden's dedication, Gary might have crumbled under the burden. He forced himself to straighten up, to look as though he had more resolve than he felt inside.

He decided to walk through the main hall and greet some of the servants. A few were sweeping floors or polishing the chipped furniture. They paused to bow when he passed, their faces showing surprise. Perhaps the old king never bothered to speak to them. Gary tried to offer a warm smile and a kind word. He asked them about their tasks, thanked them for their work. Such gestures felt small, but he hoped it would lift their spirits.

After a time, he reached the room where the palace steward used to handle administrative tasks. Now it served as a dusty storage space, filled with rolled-up tapestries, broken chairs, and boxes of old records. Gary spotted a single clerk sitting at a small desk in the corner, writing something by the light of a stubby candle. The clerk was a short, thin fellow with large spectacles perched on his nose.

"Good morning," Gary said softly.

The clerk jumped in surprise, nearly knocking over the inkpot. "Oh! Your Majesty. I—apologies. I didn't hear you come in."

Gary offered a small nod. "It's fine. I was curious if we have any updated lists of farmland or stock counts. I want to know our resources before we speak with more merchants."

The clerk set his quill aside. "I have some records from last month, though they may not be complete. Many farmers left or lost fields due to bad weather and poor harvests." He rummaged around a stack of scrolls and handed Gary a roughly bound set of pages. "It shows which villages are still active and how many wagons of grain were shipped to the castle this year."

Gary flipped through the pages. The handwriting was uneven and some lines were smudged, but he could read enough to see the painful truth. Crop yields were down, and half the shipments never arrived because the roads were too dangerous or the fields had failed. It was no wonder the treasury was almost empty.

He thanked the clerk and tucked the record under his arm, leaving the storeroom. As he walked, his mind spun with worry. Even if Jenny struck a brilliant deal, their farmland was in dire shape. The border threat might push more people away, leaving the farmland abandoned. And if that happened, the entire kingdom could starve.

By midday, he found himself pacing around the courtyard again. The sun hung high, its rays revealing the cracks in the stone walls. A few guards patrolled, and a stable hand was busy brushing a mare near the stalls. Gary wondered how Sir Alden's trip was going. Had he found the rumored soldiers? Had trouble already started?

At last, he heard the clatter of wheels and looked up to see Jenny's carriage returning through the main gate. She stepped out, dusting off her skirt and looking weary. But there was a spark in her eyes that hinted at possible good news.

"Any luck?" Gary asked, meeting her halfway.

She nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "The guild leader agreed to a plan. He will form small guard units—paid by the guild—and in return, we give them a percentage from iron sales once the northern mines reopen. They also want a small cut of toll fees if trade picks up."

Gary felt relief flood him. "That's good. It's better than nothing. Did you manage to ensure the deal benefits the crown?"

Jenny raised her brow. "I bargained hard. The guild leader tried to ask for a large share, but I negotiated it down. We keep the majority, but we must support them with official approval so they can set up guard posts along the roads."

He exhaled. "Well done. This will help us reclaim some safety for merchants. Do you think it will hold, though? What if they grow too strong?"

She pressed her lips together. "We'll have to keep watch. For now, it's our best option. If we do nothing, we lose even more."

They were interrupted by a shout from a guard on the wall. Gary and Jenny turned to see the gates swing open. Sir Alden rode in with his knights, looking tired and dust-covered. A few among the group seemed wounded—one knight's arm was bandaged, and another had a gash on his leg. A wave of alarm gripped Gary's chest as he rushed over.

"What happened?" Gary asked, voice tight.

Sir Alden dismounted. He removed his helmet, revealing strands of sweat-soaked hair. "We reached the village in time, but we clashed with armed men wearing dark armor. They didn't carry any banner, but I suspect they were linked to Rodrik. We fought them off. Some escaped into the woods. The village is safe for now, though shaken."

Gary's gaze flicked to the injured knights. "How many of them were there?"

"Fifteen or so. Enough to cause havoc if we hadn't arrived." Alden took a deep breath. "The villagers are scared, Your Majesty. They say those men might come back with more."

Jenny joined them, concern etched on her face. "Then we must fortify that village. We can't spare all our knights, but perhaps we can hire local men to guard it, with some guidance from Alden's squad."

Alden nodded. "Yes, that might work. The villagers know the land best. If we offer them weapons and training, they can fend off small raids."

Gary rubbed his forehead, which ached with tension. "We have so few resources already. But we can't leave people unprotected." He looked at Jenny, drawing strength from her presence. "We just arranged a trade protection deal with the merchant guild. Maybe we can do something similar to secure the farmland. We can't let fear drive everyone away."

She pursed her lips. "I will talk to them. But it may take time for these measures to take effect. The guild is one thing—villagers are another. They need to trust that we stand with them, not just in word, but in deed."

Sir Alden handed the reins of his horse to a stable hand. "We can bring them a small stock of spears, plus a knight or two for training. That's a start."

Gary nodded. "Do it. I'll find the funds for those weapons somehow." He paused, glancing at Jenny. "And maybe we can direct some new trade routes through that area once it's safe, so the village gains a bit of prosperity. They'll feel more secure if they see real progress."

Jenny looked thoughtful. "That could work. But we should move fast. Rodrik won't just send small raiding groups if he truly plans to claim this land."

Sir Alden nodded again. "We should be ready for anything."

Gary sighed, gazing at the tired horses and the wounded knights. This was the shape of things to come, he realized. A kingdom on the edge, struggling to stand against outside threats and inner decay. He felt fear press on his heart. Yet he also felt a flicker of determination. Arya would not fall, not if he and Jenny could help it.

"We'll keep going," Gary said at last, voice firm. "We'll protect our people, build our roads, and bring life back to this land. One step at a time."

Neither Jenny nor Sir Alden had any false hopes that the days ahead would be easy. But they shared a look that said they were in this together. The realm might be battered and worn, but it still had spirit left. And as long as they worked in unison, there was a chance—just a chance—that Arya could rise from its troubles stronger than before.