Donato dropped to one knee before the king, head bowed in respect.
"Rise," the king said, his voice deep and calm.
"You have served us well, Donato Morano.
Both with your loyalty and your discretion."
Donato stood, meeting the king's gaze. "It was an honor."
The king nodded. "A man of few words. Just like your father."
Then, with a gesture, he called forth a servant who approached with a small wooden box, polished and heavy-looking.
The king opened it and turned it towards Donato.
"Gold," he said simply. "A token of appreciation. Nothing compared to what lies ahead for you, but still earned."
Donato accepted the box with a slight bow. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Now," the king added, a hint of seriousness returning to his tone, "follow me."
Donato's heart raced, not from fear but anticipation.
They walked through the ancient corridor of the castle until they reached a black iron door.
No handles. No keyhole. Just a shimmering panel with numbers.
