Chapter 9 #2
I flipped through as many pages as I could, committing as much to memory as possible, before slipping the letters back into the binder and placing it exactly where I found it.
Then, I turned to leave. Exiting the vault and closing it quickly.
I stopped.
A voice drifted through the quiet of the castle corridors.
Not just any voice.
Zander.
I froze, pressing myself against the wall near the entrance of the vault, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
He wasn’t alone.
A second voice—softer, younger.
A little girl.
I inched forward, careful not to make a sound, sneaking toward the source of their conversation.
I moved silently, hugging the shadows as I followed the faint murmur of voices. The castle corridors were mostly empty at this hour, the flickering torchlight casting dancing shadows along the stone walls.
The voices led me to a half-open door.
A royal bedchamber.
I pressed myself against the door frame, careful not to be seen, peering inside just enough to see the occupants.
Zander stood beside a lavish, canopied bed, tucking a little girl beneath the thick layers of blankets.
She couldn’t have been older than seven or eight, with loose blond curls spilling across her pillow and bright, lavender eyes that matched his.
His sister.
Elara Rayne.
I had never seen Zander look like this before—his usually sharp, commanding posture softened as he knelt beside the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.
“You were gone a long time,” Elara murmured, blinking up at him sleepily.
Zander gave her a small, tired smile. “I had training.”
“Did you win?” she asked, her voice drowsy but curious.
He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Not today.”
Elara’s brows furrowed. “But you always win.”
Zander reached out, brushing a stray curl from her face. “Even I lose sometimes.”
She studied him for a moment before tilting her head. “Theron says that losing means you were weak.”
Zander’s expression darkened.
For a moment, he was silent, his jaw tightening—but then he exhaled and placed a gentle hand on her forehead.
“Our brother is wrong.” His voice was quiet. “Sometimes losing means you get better. That you learn from your mistakes.”
Elara yawned, mulling over his words, her tiny hand reaching out to grasp his wrist.
“You don’t have to go again, do you?” she murmured.
Zander hesitated.
I watched as something unspoken passed through his expression, something burdensome.
“No,” he finally said, his voice gentler than I had ever heard it. “Not now. Let’s get you back to bed, it’s too early for you to be awake.”
Elara smiled sleepily, her grip on his wrist loosening.
“Good. I sleep better when you’re here.”
Zander watched her for a long moment, his eyes unreadable, before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.
I felt something tighten in my chest.
This was a side of Zander I had never seen.
Not the ruthless noble, not the cold, calculated soldier, not the arrogant prince who had sneered at my existence in his ranks.
This was a brother.
A man who had shaped himself into something different than what his family had tried to make him.
And I hated that it made my stomach twist.
Hated the way my mind warred with itself.
Because if Zander Rayne had a heart, even one small, protected piece of it?—
Then how much of my hatred was misplaced?
Zander glanced toward the doorway, and I hugged the wall. “Elara. I will be right back.”
I ran swiftly and silently down the hallway, my breath steady despite the rush of adrenaline surging through my veins.
The hidden wall loomed ahead, blending seamlessly into the stone. I reached for the sconce with the illumination crystal, twisting it just enough to release the hidden latch.
With a soft groan, the wall shifted, revealing the dark passage beyond.
I slipped through, my movements quick, but I didn’t get to fully lock it in place.
Instead, I waited, pressing my back against the cool wall as I listened.
A heartbeat.
Muffled, steady, familiar.
Zander.
He was still on the other side.
I heard the soft creak of boots against stone, then the faint shuffle of movement—like he was lingering.
For a long moment, he didn’t leave.
Then, finally, his footsteps faded as he moved away, presumably returning to Elara’s room.
I exhaled.
Slipping further into the dark passage, I secured the wall behind me, leaving no trace that I had ever been there.
I scurried back toward my squad’s barracks, the familiar path burned into my mind, my heartbeat only just beginning to slow.
When I pushed open the side door to our room, I froze.
Riven and Cordelle were already awake.
Riven sat cross-legged on her bed, running a whetstone over the blade of her dagger, while Cordelle scribbled something into his leather-bound notebook.
The moment I stepped in, Riven’s gaze snapped to mine.
“Where were you?” she asked, brows raised.
I kept my expression neutral, shutting the door behind me. “Just checking out how far down this hallway goes.”
Riven studied me for a moment before shrugging. “The walls go all the way from one side of the cliffs to the other. Warriath is positioned on the corner of the continent, so it’s one long arced wall, wide enough to house all the guilds and support the battlements.”
I nodded as if this was brand-new information to me, even though I had already figured out most of it. “I just can’t believe the ingenuity of the construction. It’s not like the other kingdoms.”
“That’s for sure,” Riven agreed. “Warriath is unusual in that regard. But we assume it’s because of the dragons. They need space so they can land inside the compound—for training and mobilization. Or so I’ve been told.”
I sat down on my bed, stretching out my legs. Architecture had never been a passion of mine. But these walls had secrets.
And I needed to find them.
I hesitated, then looked at Riven. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
She grinned, flipping the dagger in her hand. “Of course. I am severely deprived in the girl talk department these days.”
I grunted, glancing toward Ferrula and Naia’s bunks, both of which were still full as they slept. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“What’s up?”
I exhaled, lowering my voice. “Don’t say anything, but… I saw Zander with his sister.”
Riven’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m surprised. I heard she isn’t allowed to leave the castle.”
“You seem to know a lot about the castle,” I noted.
“Not me,” she said, tipping her head toward Cordelle. “His father is the lorekeeper.”
“Right,” I muttered. I had completely forgotten about that resource.
Cordelle looked up from his notebook, his curiosity piqued, but he didn’t interrupt.
I smirked. “Well, I may have taken a sneak peek at the lower levels. I guess her room is downstairs for security reasons.”
Riven huffed out a quiet laugh. “Shit, Ashe, if you had gotten caught, they’d have thrown you in the dungeon and tossed the key into the ocean.”
I grinned. “I know. But I’m not great with locked doors. They tend to have a way of… needing to be opened.”
She chuckled. “You’re crazy—but a fun crazy.”
I ran a hand through my hair, thinking back to the moment I had witnessed.
“Anyway… Zander was different,” I admitted. “He treated his sister more like a daughter. And she has his eyes.”
Riven’s expression shifted.
Her lips curled into a smirk, and she wiggled her eyebrows.
“She’s only eight,” I added, narrowing my eyes.
“And Zander is twenty-five.”
I waited, already not liking the direction of her thoughts.
“It wouldn’t be the first time royals covered for an affair.”
I blinked. “What are you saying?”
Riven tilted her head. “Maybe… Elara is his daughter.”