Chapter 2: Whispers of Rebellion: The Fate of Vindrjord

"Don't forget about this child's necklace," the captain said, drawing out a finely crafted silver necklace from the child's swaddling cloth. He then exchanged a meaningful glance with the woman, understanding their sacred mission to protect and nurture this child who had come from across the sea.

With the arrival of the next day's dawn, a gray and hazy sunrise gently spilled over the port, reaching deep into the rugged fjord that lay inland. This fjord was a captivating spectacle of nature, its expansive waters reflecting the soft light of the sunrise. On both sides, the cliffs were as steep as if they had been hewn with a blade, adorned with patches of vibrant green vegetation. Deep within the fjord, a crystal-clear waterfall plummeted from a towering cliff, its roar echoing like thunder, awakening the tranquil morning.

Beside the waterfall, in a small wooden cabin, the baby was sleeping peacefully in a wicker basket. His face, under the glow of the sunrise, looked exceptionally pure and calm. At the other end of the cabin, several people were gathered, their voices low and tense, forming a stark contrast with the peacefulness outside. They were engaged in hushed discussions of grave matters.

"The current state of Vindrjord is far from ideal. The military coup has overturned many established systems. This self-proclaimed dictator has also cost many of us, including naval officers and nobles, our power and status," the captain stated, setting down his warm cup as he spoke.

"Those who openly opposed General Olaf have all been executed, and everyone lives in fear. The king and queen have fled to England under the escort of the British ambassador's steamships, and there has been no news since. As for the two princes, no one knows their whereabouts," another unnamed noble continued.