Chapter 40 #2
Warrick chimes in, “What he means is, Silas had too much to lose. Having him as king now could change everything.”
Larkin flashes a grin at Warrick and says, “And, we have someone who may be able to persuade them.”
“Who?”
“The leader is Cyrus Pierce,” Larkin says.
Pierce.
Larkin smiles as I put the pieces together. “Warrick’s father.”
My jaw snaps open, and I look at Warrick. “What?”
His gaze goes down the alleyway toward the tall figure that remains barely visible. The cloaked man slips just out of sight, and Warrick slowly turns his head back in our direction.
“Can I speak with him?” I ask.
Larkin laughs. “You wouldn’t be able to find him to do so. Their showing up will be a gamble that I’d never bet money on. Though he would probably love to speak with the Queen of Daramveer.”
“I like a challenge,” I add.
“Yeah, right. You’re delusional if you think Silas is going to let you find Cyrus alone.” Larkin nudges my shoulder.
I huff. “I never said anything about doing that alone.”
Silas hops down from the platform, joining us. “Why is it you all always talk about me?”
“Our favorite troublemaker wants to speak with Cyrus Pierce,” Larkin teases.
Silas’s lips form a thin line, and he glances at Warrick. “And who is the one who told her about Mr. Pierce?” Silas angles his head.
Warrick places both hands in his pockets and returns his gaze to us. “It’s hard to ignore his looming presence in the alleyways, Nastronde.” He tosses a look over his shoulder. “He heard everything. I noticed my father and a few others hidden in the shadows—listening—almost immediately.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Silas replies.
Warrick nods, “They are still close.”
“I see,” Silas says.
“Maybe it’s time you finally speak to him, Silas,” Larkin says. “There’s no way he won’t expect you two wanting to talk privately.”
Silas remains quiet, and he dives into his own thoughts for a second. With what is coming, we could use anyone and everyone to assist, and having the army of Andorwood rebels could change everything.
“C’mon, you know we need them,” I think in my mind, and Silas cuts his eyes toward me.
“You are right,” he replies.
“Say that again.”
“You’re right,” he repeats.
“Music to my ears,” I smile.
Silas shakes his head and glances toward Warrick and Larkin.
“Are you going to come, Warrick?” Silas asks.
I fight back the urge to jump with excitement.
“I don’t think I’m ready for a family affair,” he replies. “You two can do this alone.”
“Very well,” Silas agrees. “You two head back to the house and take Fen and my mother. Check on Maines, then fill Oak in.”
They nod.
“Start prepping for what’s to come. From this day forward, every day will count. Gather numbers on how many we will have at our side and help those willing to fight.”
Warrick waves Fenmore over, along with Aerona.
“Where are you going?” Larkin asks.
Silas locks his fingers around mine as we move across the stone streets of the square. He glances down a few alleyways, deciding which one is the right one to explore. He calls over his shoulder to Warrick and Larkin, who are watching us intently.
“We’re going to have a drink.”
Larkin laughs, and we move through the square, ignoring the passing glances we receive. It must seem odd to them, the Queen of Daramveer, hand in hand with their new king. Even more bizarre to me is that Silas just announced we were off to have a drink.
We walk in silence through the crowd, turning a corner that leads down a narrower walkway. The crowd thins out, and soon it’s just Silas and me walking toward a tucked-in door halfway down the alleyway.
“Thirsty, are you?” I finally ask, once we are away from the prying ears of the civilians.
“After that? I’m dying for an ale.” He looks down at me and smiles.
Our pace slows as he takes his time passing the few storefronts in the alleyway. Fabric stores, pottery shops, and other random stands fill the spaces, while the owners either wave at us or quickly turn their heads away.
“You did great up there,” I say. “I’m proud of you for calming down like that. I know it wasn’t easy to control your anger.”
“Thank you.”
“I understand how it feels to have your entire kingdom turning its back on you. I believe we are going to be okay—Andorwood will come around.”
“I don’t feel like I did well,” he responds. “I almost lost it, Briar. How can I rule if I can’t control my anger?”
“But you did control it, Silas.”
“Barely.” He lowers his head and continues to stroll forward. “I considered wiping them all out. I thought they would come for you, and I wanted to destroy them—my own kingdom—for you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“That’s not the point,” he says, looking at me.
“I would burn this isle to the ground for you in an instant. If anyone tries to cross me, fine, I can handle it. But if anyone crosses you? I fear that for the rest of my life, I will struggle with wanting to murder any poor soul who dares to speak ill of you.”
“Then, you will have to work on controlling that. You can think what you’d like, but we must control our actions. I can handle myself; you know that,” I reply. “I haven’t felt that rage before over something so small. What was that?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “I’ve never felt this angry.”
“Then, tell me when you are feeling close to losing it, and I’ll help you.”
He nods, and the conversation quiets, giving him some space to think and breathe, even in the confined space of the alleyway. Soon, we come upon a wooden sign that hangs from a stone building: Ophidian’s Den.
“Why are we coming here? It can’t be because you want a drink this badly,” I inquire.
“First off, yes, I do need a drink badly. And second, you wanted to meet Cyrus, didn’t you?” Silas smiles.
“Well, yes. I think it would be prudent,” I respond.
“Alright, well then, we’re having a drink.” Silas pulls me toward the door. “Or three.”
“How do you know he’s here?” I question, planting my feet, and not letting him pull me any closer to the bar.
“Because he asked me to meet him here two days ago.”