No Context Dialogue Exchange

The Iron Dome loomed over them, its towering metallic walls reflecting the dim, flickering light of torches. Eight kings sat around a massive iron table, their expressions a mix of confusion, irritation, and unease. The air was heavy with tension, made worse by the unblinking stares of the silent spectators standing along the walls.

“Why are we here?” Lord Alberto of Leona demanded, breaking the silence. His voice wavered slightly, though he tried to hide it. “I was in my chamber... with my wife.” His gaze grew distant, his lips curving into a faint smile. “It was our first night—”

“Focus, Alberto,” Lord Zad of Geralda interrupted sharply. His calm tone carried an edge of authority. “This is no time for daydreams. Look around you—there’s an empty seat. We all know who it’s for.”

The kings exchanged uneasy glances.

“How can you expect me to focus?” Alberto shot back, his voice rising. “I just married Count Herald’s daughter—a woman of unmatched beauty and grace—and now I’m dragged to... to *this*,” he gestured vaguely at their surroundings. “I didn’t even get to—”

“Spare us the details,” Lord Seven of Windhills said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “Still the same old Alberto—always thinking with your heart or something lower. You’ve spent more coin on women than on your own army.”

Alberto’s face reddened, but before he could retort, Zad raised a hand. “Enough,” he said firmly. “Infighting won’t help us. Let’s focus on why we’re here. Lord Hika of Riverend,” Zad turned to the older man sitting quietly at the far end of the table, “you’re the wisest among us. What do you make of this?”

Hika straightened, his calm demeanor unshaken. “It’s clear this is no ordinary gathering. Eight kings of Fera, taken without warning or consent, brought to a place that defies nature.” His gaze swept over the room. “Whoever orchestrated this is far more powerful than any of us—perhaps more powerful than all of us combined.”

“Powerful or not, I don’t care,” growled Lord Kyle of Fire Mountains, slamming a fist on the table. The iron groaned under the impact. “When I find them, I’ll rip them apart with my bare hands!”

A chuckle broke the tension. The youngest man at the table, Lord Neville of Pepper, leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Typical Kyle. All brawn, no brain. You talk big for someone who got beaten in the Battle of Nightfall.”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your mouth, boy,” he growled.

“Enough!” Alberto snapped, his usual jovial tone replaced with uncharacteristic sternness. He pointed a finger at Neville. “You may be young, but show respect. Lord Hika deserves it, and so do the rest of us. This isn’t the time for petty jabs.”

Hika raised a hand, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Peace, Alberto. Lord Neville is still learning, as we all once did. Let him speak.”

Neville nodded, his playful smirk fading. “Fine. If we’re being serious, there’s something strange about this place. Haven’t any of you noticed? No hunger. No thirst. Time feels... off.” He gestured toward the silent spectators. “And those people—they’re watching us, but they don’t react to anything we say or do. This place isn’t natural.”

The room fell silent as the kings considered Neville’s words.

Lord Jarvis of Downhill finally spoke, his voice steady. “Agreed. Whoever brought us here doesn’t intend for us to leave—not yet, at least.”

“And there’s still the ninth seat,” Lord Verito of Ark added hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper. “If the rest of us are here, then the last one can only be...” He trailed off, his face paling.

The kings exchanged uneasy glances again.

“Lord Caine,” Hika said gravely. The name alone seemed to chill the air. “King of Nightfall. The Lord of Seven Seas. The Conqueror of the Dark Plague. The Dragon Slayer.”

“The man who defeated us all at Nightfall,” Alberto added, swallowing hard.

Neville leaned back in his chair, feigning nonchalance. “He even beat Kyle in single combat,” he said, grinning.

“That was luck!” Kyle barked, slamming the table again. But his voice lacked conviction, and even he couldn’t deny the fear etched on his face.

As silence settled over the room once more, the kings stared at the empty seat. Whatever awaited them, it was clear: their fates were now tied to the arrival of the ninth king.

(Writer's note: Please write a comment, it's a dialogue exchange between few characters from a novel I am trying to write. It's kind of the final version of talk between my character, so do write a comment and give some reviews like what can I improve and you can rate it on scale from one to ten.)