Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
“Hey, Zev.” I smile, leaning against his table at the Whispering Willow.
“Rae,” he greets me calmly. His features are darkly shrouded as they were previously, his brown eyes piercing through to study me closely. Zev’s posture is relaxed as he lounges in his chair, but he is unmistakably alert.
“Business going well?” I ask cheerfully.
Zev only stares at me, the air taut with tension as silence stretches between us.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where I could get something to put in someone’s drink to send them into a psychosis but not fully kill them…
would you?” I lower my voice so only he may hear.
“I do.”
“Perfect.” I smile at him.
“You know I only accept payment in secrets.”
“Well, I have a secret for you…” I whisper. “Duke Nikolas Sterling of Thalvar is extorting money from the King and plans to kill the troops once they arrive in his kingdom.”
“Do you have proof?” Zev's raspy voice is barely audible over the noise of the tavern.
I slip the letter from my sleeve and slide it across the table for him to read. Zev’s eyes scan the parchment with a scrutinizing gaze as he deciphers the contents. He folds the letter and tucks it into his coat pocket.
“Here.” He slips something into my palm. “Scorpion’s Haze.”
“Many thanks.” I smile at him, walking away from the table as I return to work.
Tucking my hand into my satchel, I put the vial away without looking at it. I clean off some tables and bring empty mugs to the bar. Alastor is preoccupied, dragging a man out of the tavern by the back of his tunic and throwing him out the door for not paying his tab.
Hans and Lucio sit at a nearby table, the young soldiers dressed casually as they indulge in lively chatter. Walking over, I smile at the men. “Anything to drink?” I ask warmly.
“Hello, Rae.” Hans smiles at me, sliding some coins across the table. “Two ales and beef pottage.”
“Sure thing.” I nod, then pick up the coins and walk over to the bar. “Two ales and beef pottage,” I repeat the order to Alastor.
“We don’t have any pottage tonight. There appears to be a lost food shipment,” he replies, pouring two ales for me.
That means Lord Cerian heeded my threat, disappearing along with the harvest.
“I see…” I wait for him to pass me the drinks. I did it. Truly did it. Now I can leave the North, flee this place once and for all. I can finally be free. All my hard work will soon pay off.
Picking up the tankards, I carry them over to Hans, along with his change. “Sorry, no food tonight.” I hand them their drinks. “I believe there’s a shortage.”
“I heard about that.” Hans bristles. “Can you believe that? While highborns party in the castle, we’re here, cold and hungry!”
I nod in agreement. “It’s egregious! The audacity to continue festivities while people go hungry.”
My plan is working.
“You wouldn’t happen to know who Thalvar is allied with… would you?” I pivot the conversation to get some information from Hans.
The warlord—Casimir—always says to weaken the pillars that hold your enemies upright. When you chip away at the foundation, the thrones crumble to dust beneath them.
“Thalvar and Valneth are in an alliance,” Hans replies, filling in the last piece of the puzzle I need.
“Thank you. Let me know if you need anything else.” I walk away.
Gliding effortlessly between tables, I plant seeds of doubt in the hearts of Khalessor’s people.
Every smile I’ve offered and every favor I’ve granted has laid the groundwork for me to unravel the kingdom at my fingertips.
It will already be too late when they realize the roots of mistrust have taken hold.
“I heard Horatio is unfaithful to his wife,” I tell the soldiers from Corovya. “I saw him pinning a servant girl against the wall at the castle.”
Horatio’s reputation is already in shambles after Noctalis, but I can’t help myself; it’s too fun. I feel a sudden rush course through me, a thirst for more power. For the first time in my life, I am the warlord dominating the realm.
The soldiers let out a collective gasp, muttering words of disapproval under their breath. “The nerve after he lost all that money,” one soldier comments. “Why bother with this job?”
Moving to the following table, I find my next target. There’s a table of young men all playing a game of Mystic runes. “Have any of you heard about the rebellion?” I ask quietly.
One of the young boys nods. “They wear bronze armor and the colors blue and gold. Their banners fly a wolf.”
“Thank you.” I pat him on the shoulder as I walk away, empty cups in tow.
Moving to the back of the tavern, I make bets with the thieves who frequently throw knives at the makeshift targets on the wall.
“If you make this, I’ll tell you how the Duke of Thalvar cheats his taxes,” I say, causing the men to sneer in excitement.
The knives both sink into the bullseye, hitting the mark perfectly.
“Pay up.” The rugged Elvarran demands.
I lean in close. “He’s got blackmail on several collectors. The treasury is probably overflowing with gold. Sounds like an easy target for looting if you ask me.”
The two men eye each other deviously, the wheels turning in their minds as they consider my words. I watch as they flick the knives between their fingertips, itching for the next strike.
“Have fun,” I muse, walking away.
The air hums with quiet resentment, every conversation edged like a blade. All of it is my doing. My plotting. My plans. I am the hand that topples kings and brings ruin to courts. The banquet tomorrow will be the final piece; the Scorpion’s Haze will end my adversary.
The grandfather clock strikes, signaling the end of my shift. As I leave the tavern, I notice the number of people in the street. Many are wrapped in scraps of long cloth and various blankets to keep warm in the snow, their palms outstretched as they beg for a coin.
“You there, halfling girl!” I hear someone call out.
Turning, I see Renwick hobbling over to me. His wrinkled hands wrap around the front of my cloak as he yanks me forward. Renwick’s one eye looks weary and desperate as it meets mine.
“You have to help me,” he begs. “I’m starvin’.”
Sighing. I pull out two silver coins from my satchel and give them to him. “Here.” I place it in his calloused palm.
“T-thank yew.” He closes his fingers around the coins. “I haven’t eaten in days.”
“Are all these people starving?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Renwick nods, not saying another word before he scurries away. I glance around at all the people on the street as I pass, wondering how they are going to sleep in the snow. The weather is getting severe, and the snow is piling up thickly on the roofs.
I did this.
A pit forms in my gut, but I push it quickly away. I have to bury this remorse temporarily, because if I falter now, all of this will be for naught. We are at war. There are always blades sharpening on the sidelines, ready to strike and claim power for themselves.
I ascend the castle steps, moving quickly through the entryway. I turn down the corridor that leads to my room, tired from the lack of sleep I got the night before. My body is beckoning for rest with every step, my eyelids heavy.
There’s an echo of voices carrying down the hall, and as I round the corner, I see Casimir and Gilead walking towards me.
I slow my steps, turning subtly in the other direction to avoid the King.
We haven’t spoken since our tryst, mostly because I’ve been battling with my conflicting feelings of lust and deceit.
“Raelys, wait one moment,” Casimir calls out to me, causing me to freeze in place. He speaks in a hushed tone to Gilead, who nods and walks away, leaving us alone. “Where are you headed?”
“Back to my room,” I reply, still feeling slightly tense in his presence.
“Then let me walk with you.” Casimir closes the distance between us, stopping at my side.
“All right,” I relent as we stroll beside one another.
“About last night—”
“You regret it…” I say softly, a crack forming in my chest.
Casimir’s hand wraps around mine. “Never.”
I catch myself blushing like a fool as Casimir releases me. Even worse, I wish he had held on a little longer. My gut flutters with excitement at the thought that he wants me, causing the warring between my head and heart to grow.
“I… I wanted to make sure you didn’t feel pressured,” he finally says.
I give him a saccharine smile. “The only pressure was your fingers in my—”
“Raelys,” Casimir warns, stopping me from finishing my sentence.
I giggle, enjoying the sight of his shoulders going rigid. It is fun to throw him off, to poke holes in his stern and calculating exterior. I like the way I affect him, but I hate that he also affects me in turn.
My body moves on its own, lingering closer to him as we walk alongside one another, our shoulders gently brushing against each other. There's the familiar sensation of his magic skating across my skin, which is starting to feel less like a prickle of thorns and more like a caress of silk.
“Are you happy, Raelys?” Casimir asks out of the blue.
My brows draw together, my smile waning. “What do you mean?”
“In Khalessor.”
The air suddenly pulls taut. My lips part slightly as I shakily inhale, unsure of why I’m hesitating. This is my chance to pull the wool over his eyes. I can use his vulnerability to advance my game pieces. Unfortunately, I can’t bring myself to do it.
“It’s far better than staying locked inside castle walls,” I admit truthfully.
His expression softens. “You’re welcome to stay.”
My confusion only grows. “I wasn’t aware I was leaving.”
“I do not wish to cage you,” Casimir explains. “The choice is yours when spring arrives. I want you to stay, but I won’t force you.”
“What about the curse?” I ask in utter disbelief.
“I meant what I said at Noctalis.”
I recall the words Casimir spoke to me the night of the ball. I haven’t put too much thought into them after finding out he is the warlord. My brother may think that I’m being held captive and march north to attack.
“Won’t my staying cause more war?”
“I’d go to war for you.”
I stop in my tracks. If I thought I was the one throwing Casimir off, I am wrong.
He’s completely flipped my world upside down, resetting the hourglass of my reality.
I know he means it, too, and that makes my pulse race even more.
He’s the first person who's given me a choice for my freedom, knowing how much it means to me.
“Don’t give me that look.” Casimir’s voice is low and sultry, stirring something in my gut. “I am no stranger to war, Raelys.”
Neither am I.
“Did you send your forces to Thalvar?” I ask quietly, glancing around to make sure we are alone.
I planned to keep the information I learned from the letters to myself, but after our conversation tonight, I decided to share it with Casimir.
Nikolas is the leader of the rebellion and is a direct threat to the throne.
He intends to kill Casimir’s troops when they arrive in Thalvar, and he’s about to lose a large part of his army.
Bewilderment crosses his features. “How do you know about that?”
“Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answer to.” I quote Casimir’s words back to him; it is the same excuse he used in Avelisar.
“They haven't been moved.”
“Don’t send them.”
“That’s a particularly suspicious request, Princess.” He raises a brow at me as we stop in front of my bedchamber door. “It appears you know something I don’t.”
“The warlord always says a divided kingdom falls, but a united one cannot be conquered,” I say sweetly, stepping closer to him.
“Is that so?” Casimir tucks a stray hair behind my ear, his fingers not lingering on my skin for long. “It sounds like you had the most prolific teacher.”
“Pfft, your ego is out of control,” I tease, a grin on my lips.
He laughs, warm and low, like sunlight slipping through morning mist. I find myself smiling, too, excitement pulsing through my veins. Being near him softens the weight I’ve been carrying, allowing me to relax in his presence.
“I heard there’s a banquet tomorrow night.” I hope he will allow me to come. Nikolas will likely be in attendance, and I want to watch the Scorpion’s Haze in action.
“Are you asking me to invite you?” Casimir’s eyes light up with challenge.
I give him an aloof shrug. “I do like a good party.”
“Come.” Casimir studies me with a quiet intensity, almost as if he’s memorizing every detail of my face. “And slander another duke for me.”
My brows lower. “You’re not mad I ruined one of your great houses?”
“No, it was quite comical, actually.”
“Really?” I blink in surprise.
“Horatio’s reputation will never recover after being ousted by the human princess.” He sounds amused. “I had no idea that we lost Crossgate due to his actions. You’re quite the menace for that, Princess.”
“I’m pretty sure you believed me to be a menace long before that.”
“To me, yes. But to others?” Pride shines in his gaze. “Absolutely priceless to watch them squirm.”
“I didn’t start it.” I point out.
“Start what?”
“The scene.”
“I’m aware,” Casimir replies. “Penelope is a pretentious person. It’s not entirely her fault; her father has raised her to act that way.”
I try to hide my smile. Casimir isn’t mad about my spectacle. He actually seems proud of me. Where I expected reprimand, I found approval. And gods help me, that is far more dangerous.
“Goddess above, you are truly something.” Casimir notices my thrill. “Delighted to wage war across the seven kingdoms, but distraught because I wrote your favorite book.”
“It’s not even that good of a book.” I try to hide the burning in my cheeks.
“Says the woman who has read it hundreds of times.” Casimir cups my cheek in his palm, thumb gently stroking my skin.
I want to kiss him again.
“Why did you tell me your namesake?” I ask, genuinely curious to know the answer.
Before Casimir can reply, someone clears their throat beside us. “Your Majesty.”
Our heads turn in unison. Barnham stands a short distance away, his gaze fixated on the space between us. His jaw tightens, and his fist crumples the letter he’s holding. It’s as if our closeness offends him.
“What?” Casimir grinds out through a slightly clenched jaw as he lowers his hand.
“It’s urgent.” Barnham holds up the crinkled letter.
Casimir releases an angry breath before returning his attention to me. “Tomorrow night.” His words carry a quiet promise that we will continue from where we left off, as if we have unfinished business to attend to.
“Goodnight,” I reply softly, turning to walk in the opposite direction.