The placement of armies was rearranged according to Phoebe’s analysis. When the time came, the King and Phoebe were standing in the highest tower of the castle, observing.
“Hector’s here himself,” the King pointed out as the infamous intruder closed in on the capital. “Did he skip the others?”
“That’s too fast, he probably did.”
“Will your army be enough?”
“Just you watch,” Phoebe replied with a sigh.
As they watched the battle rage on, there came the sound of explosion below them. The two wheeled around just in time to witness someone with Hector’s flag leading an army towards them from the stairs, which had been locked from its foot before.
“You are outnumbered, Alexander,” Hector’s general told the King. “Raise the white flag.”
“I’m not raising the white flag,” the King replied.
“There is no way out.”
Phoebe made an estimation. She made a prediction. Then, she decided to gamble.
She stepped up to the general. “Hi.”
The general seemed confused for a moment. Then, he said, “If you’re his queen–“
She took his moment of hesitation to advance, not even pausing for one second before kissing him. Once. And then a second time.