Chapter 54 - Cammon #2
More than ready to have my curiosity sated, I flipped open the folder and skimmed through the tightly scrawled handwriting on the first page.
The details about the original coup were minimal, with just enough proof that Father might believe me, but my brothers and sister had been lax in covering up their dealings with other revolutionary groups and with the mutts.
It was all there on the page, how they’d crossed the border illegally, used their demonic influence to round up the creatures and set them after me, and put Golthwaine’s residents in jeopardy.
Evaniel was ready to declare their hostility an act of war if my father didn’t deal with my siblings himself and send back confirmation that it had been attended to.
The full report had been written up and signed by both Segrew and Evaniel.
Here it was in my hands, everything I’d wanted for ten years.
I could get on a ship this afternoon and sail close enough to Karhasan that my wings could carry me the rest of the way.
I could be there within four days of fast travel, and if I wrote to the king in advance, I could arrive with an audience scheduled the moment I touched ground.
By the end of the week, my crown could be returned to me, and I could resume my responsibilities as the heir of the Karhasian throne.
My heart pounded against my ribs, my breaths grew shallow, and the words in front of me blurred.
“If that’s everything…” Segrew’s voice reached me as though from underwater, sounding bored but not wanting to outright dismiss a demon who stood to become royalty.
My head was slow to catch up to his words, and the edges of my vision were dark when I raised my gaze to meet his. “It is.”
I left without a farewell, striding back the way I’d come and out into the courtyard. I needed air. I needed space to consider the strange emotional attack that had nearly knocked me senseless in Segrew’s office.
As soon as the cool breeze hit my face and my thoughts had a chance to settle, I recognized it for what it was.
Panic.
Panic at the idea of returning to Karhasan and leaving the life I’d built—leaving Glory and Sy and Mrs. Taylor—behind.
I had no doubt that if I stepped foot on demonic soil, my father would insist that I stay.
He would press upon me the importance of resuming my place.
Especially after I carried out my duty of crushing Leto and Sabina beneath my foot. As was right and proper.
He would give me no room to manoeuvre or negotiate, and while I’d been drawn to the idea of introducing Glory to the courtly life of my homeland, I had to face the reality that Father would never accept such an arrangement.
I would be required to marry the daughter of a prominent house to improve trade or settle some feud or lend an advantage in some political power struggle.
It was everything I’d known was coming and hadn’t cared about when I was younger. Why would I have when I’d never experienced anything as internally scrambling as what I felt towards Glory?
My father would laugh. He would wrinkle his nose and scorn me for entertaining such an idea.
But he didn’t know her. He couldn’t understand or appreciate the complicated mess that was my vampire mage—a woman who had not only finally accepted parts of herself she’d hidden for twenty-five years but who had found the courage to tap into the power that had been hers from the day she was born.
She was formidable—limitless—and what I wanted more than any crown was to watch her discover more of her relentless strength.
I stared at the folder in my hands and accepted that I had no use for it.
Oh, I would send the package to the king and clear my name, enjoy the satisfaction of knowing Donal was dead and the others would soon suffer for their treachery, but I would add an addendum to my evidence relinquishing my claim to the throne in favour of Kassandra, my younger sister who I’d always intended to name my second.
Karhasan was behind me. Golthwaine, and whatever lay beyond it, was my future.
Even if right now, I wasn’t entirely sure what that future might look like.
I paced the courtyard countless times in the hope that Glory would emerge so we could talk, but once the sun began to set, I gave up.
While I’d paced, I’d noticed emotions flowing through the bond, a way of experiencing them I’d never had before, and I focused all my attention on them to gauge how she was doing.
There had been occasional surges of discomfort, excitement, a sudden thrill that I assumed was her confirming her new position, but no sign of her.
We’d made no arrangements to meet after we’d finished our respective meetings, and I needed to get home to make my arrangements for these papers.
Regardless of anything to do with Glory, my permanent residency in Golthwaine meant my life was about to take a swift turn.
With a last glance at the west wing door, I pulled off my shirt and shifted my wings. The gasp of someone nearby told me I had witnesses, but I didn’t care. The time for secrets was over. If this was to be my home, my fellow citizens could take me or leave me as I was.
I launched into the air, keeping a solid hold on my evidence as I cut over the city’s skyline.
Emotions floated up to me from the buildings below—the lavish estates, the smaller apartments—and I barely noticed them.
They were the same as they’d always been, but pallid compared to Glory’s unique bouquet.
I searched the bond again but found no change.
If she was disappointed not to find me, there was no indication of it.
Perhaps she hadn’t left the palace yet. Perhaps Evaniel had shown her to her new library office and that’s where she would stay for the rest of the night.
If that were the case, I wished her the best. She’d more than earned it.
My estate came into view, and I drew in my wings before I touched down on the crushed stone that led to the main doors of the house. I skirted them and entered through the less ornate door on the side. It led to the back staircase, and I took the steps two at a time to get to my office.
Mrs. Taylor was there to greet me when I entered, as efficient and prepared as ever.
“Good to have you home, Master Cammon,” she said. “Your mail is in your tray, but Master Syrus asked me to personally ensure you received this one when you returned.”
I didn’t bother asking how the dragon shifter had known when I’d be coming back.
He couldn’t have, which meant whatever was in the letter wasn’t time sensitive.
Curious, I took the letter but held off on opening it.
First, I set my hand on the folder. “I’ll have a package going out within the hour for Karhasan.
I’ll need the proper forms filled out for delivery, if you wouldn’t mind seeing to that. ”
She nodded and left me to work, asking no questions about whether I’d been successful in my mission or what my intentions were now that I was home.
Ever the embodiment of professionalism. I was torn on how I felt about it.
Somewhat relieved that I didn’t have the excuse to vent to the poor, unsuspecting woman, but somewhat disappointed not to have an ear to share it with.
It was fully my intention to dump it all on Sy when he arrived, but after I read through his letter, those plans were dashed as well.
Cam,
Don’t worry if you don’t see me around for a few weeks.
You remember you promised me you wouldn’t be upset if I went after a certain ring myself?
That better hold true about the disgusting amount of money it’s going to net me once I find it.
A buyer contacted me as soon as word got out that I was interested, and those red eyes of yours will be green with envy when you see the number of zeroes.
But remind me to tell you about this woman I met. Flaming thunder, I might have done something really fucking stupid.
Sy
I shook my head, caught between amusement, curiosity, and frustration that yet another outlet for my pent-up emotions had been stolen from me. I was trapped here alone with my thoughts, cursed to wind through them again and again and hope I found some solution in the muddle.
To distract myself, I wrote the letter to my father, outlining the contents of the folder and what had occurred in Blue Harbour, leaving out any emotional opinions in favour of the facts, and ending with my farewell and an endorsement for my sister.
After I finished copying the most relevant pages for my files, and after Mrs. Taylor had swept the package away, I filled my time as best I could to keep my thoughts off Glory.
I had no kit left to unpack, so I made a list of items I would need to replace before my next hunt; I stood under a very long, very cold shower; and I paced.
I must have walked the entire length of the estate three times, stepping into rooms I hadn’t entered in years. I went from the bottom floor to the top, exercising my body in an effort to stop exercising my mind.
My feet slowed when I returned to my office and caught sight of the painting hanging on the wall outside the door. The Dream.
How many times had I sat on the bench across from this scene and wished I could decipher the meaning behind it?
I remembered standing in front of it on the day I’d left thinking I’d need to touch-up the details so they wouldn’t be tainted by Glory’s association.
How laughable that version of me was now.
If anything, I was frustrated because the resemblance wasn’t close enough.
There were too many inconsistencies with the woman I’d come to care about.
The shape of her face wasn’t the same, the curve of the body wasn’t a perfect match for the lines I’d become familiar with.
No, I wasn’t looking at Glory, but the emotions this image evoked…
The confirmation of everything I’d come to feel struck me like a fist to the chest, and I staggered backwards and dropped onto the bench. I swallowed to work some moisture back into my mouth, then again to clear the lump that had formed in my throat.
I’d always seen passion in this painting, of course. Always experienced it in my dream, when I’d wake up hard and wishing the woman were real so I could bury myself inside her. But physical satisfaction had never relieved the ache the dream evoked. Something deeper than lust.
Before I was aware of it, I was on my feet again, striding towards the painting, this time focusing on the man—on me. On the expression in the eyes, the curve of the mouth that made up a smile I’d never noticed myself wearing before. Subtle effects but, now that I noticed them, potent.
These two weren’t only sharing a moment of desire but of intimacy.
With fresh eyes, I studied the brightness of her expression—as though she were laughing at something he’d said, or maybe hadn’t said in words—the gentleness of her touch where it curled around the back of his neck, the openness of her posture that said she kept no secrets from him.
This wasn’t some one-off tryst as I’d always believed, but lovers enjoying the comfort and security of being together.
Something I’d obviously craved for years despite being too inexperienced to recognize it when I saw it. All it had taken to wake me up was for death to almost steal it away.
I let out a shuddering breath and retreated into my office.
Clearly, the Fates were behind this. I could point my finger at the universe for drawing me into the life of the only woman who could bring the roguish demon prince to his knees.
Now that I’d accepted the depth of my feelings for her, I needed to figure out what to do about it.
The obvious answer, of course, was nothing. My feelings were my own, and I would deal with them. I wouldn’t be so selfish as to inflict myself where I wasn’t wanted. Say, in the tiny office in the back of a library.
But maybe… maybe it would be worthwhile to ask if I could stick around. Just to hear what she’d say. If she said yes, it would be the most terrifying—the most exciting—adventure I’d ever embark upon.
And if she said no?
I had to accept it was a possibility. Just because I’d fallen so fucking hard didn’t mean she felt the same now that we were back home. She didn’t strike me as fickle, but she’d always been a rule follower, and I, well, I broke every rule in the book.
But if she didn’t want me, I would give Glory whatever she needed—whatever made her happy—even if that meant letting her go. Even if it meant the closest I would ever come to snaring that dreamscape was the memory of having her.