Chapter 40
Draevyn
The crew spotted Lephyrin’s ships as the sun began its descent on the horizon, their sleek silhouettes moored in Sumnae’s harbor. His brother’s banners hung limp in the still air, maroon and gold catching the last bit of daylight like sharpened blades.
They’d made better timing than Draevyn had hoped, but still, he didn’t know if it would be enough.
Even though they were in a ship marked by Lephyrin, he didn’t want to risk being caught. So, instead, they sailed Valor around the largest bend, out of sight from watchful eyes.
The crew clustered near the railing, their faces drawn tight with anticipation and uncertainty as they waited for his command. They hadn’t spoken much since spotting Lephyrin’s fleet, and now their silence was louder than any words.
Some exchanged uncertain sidelong glances, but they wouldn’t dare voice their doubts aloud. Ren tightened his grip on the dagger strapped to his belt, his eyes flicking from the distant harbor to their captain. Riven rubbed a hand over his face as if hoping to wake from a dream.
“Gods, the last time we faced a single elven, we all ended up in chains,” Ren said warily. “And now we’re about to break into a kingdom full of ‘em.”
“It’s for Esmi. We have to do it,” Jak said, staring at the shore.
“You think she’s still alive?” Riven sighed.
“Yes,” Draevyn said through clenched teeth.
She has to be alive. Why else would Atlas be here?
Jak watched him curiously before turning to the elven. “Riv, shut the fuck up before one of us shoves you overboard.”
Draevyn stepped forward. “We go quiet. We don’t get caught. And we don’t stop until we’re inside those walls.” He lifted a hand and pointed to the highest castle spire peeking over Sumnae’s trees.
“Drop anchor,” he murmured, a knot twisting in his gut. “Here.”
Samwell blinked. “We’re at least a mile out from the shoreline.”
“Exactly,” Draevyn said. “We’re not walking in through the front fucking gates, Sam.”
They didn’t like anchoring here, so close and yet so far from their destination. Draevyn knew that, for the pirates, they felt too exposed and vulnerable. And for his own men, they had never been on this side of the law while not under the protection of Lephyrin’s crown.
Now, they were all wanted fugitives, and they would be sneaking into a kingdom already under heavy guard as they tried to do the impossible.
But they were headed for a quiet bend of the coastline. It was overgrown with sea grass and dark rock, a place seemingly forgotten by patrols as the capital loomed beyond the curve of the cliffs.
They all readied themselves and their weapons before loading into the pinnaces. Each of their cloaks were drawn tight with their faces half covered against the wind.
Tommy ran a hand along the edge of the boat and muttered, “Feels like we’re rowing into a funeral.”
“Yeah,” Riven cut in. “Ours.”
Jak crossed his arms as his lips pressed into a thin line, but nobody argued.
Because the truth was, that was exactly what it felt like. But Draevyn was determined and willing to do whatever it took to get Esmyra out of there.
Even if that meant trading himself in her place.
“Alright, you all know the plan. If what the man in Anchorage Cove said is true, then it seems I haven’t been labeled as a traitor of the crown. Which means I may be able to get to Atlas before he does something foolish.” Draevyn swallowed.
“Sam and Tommy will be coming with me as my known crew, and the rest of you will need to find another in or wait in the trees for us. We can’t risk all of us getting captured in case something goes wrong,” he continued.
“Regardless of how we all get in there, we’re looking for Esmyra.
She is the priority. No matter who finds her, we get her out first before anything else. Understood?”
“Aye,” nearly everyone agreed in unison.
Sam cleared his throat. “Yes, Captain.”
His stare lifted back to the spires that reached into the darkening sky. He could feel the weight of it all—that aching pull in his chest that always led back to her. She was somewhere behind those walls, likely chained and alone.
By the time they rowed onto the stony shore, the sky had shifted to near darkness.
Draevyn looked to the others and then back to the palace. “Let’s go.”
The elven castle loomed like a polished blade ahead, all silver towers and violet banners flapping high against the night’s wind. From the woods just beyond the castle’s outer edge, shadowed shapes lingered in the underbrush as Jak and the other pirates crouched low, silent and waiting.
Boots crunched over gravel as Draevyn walked toward the gates, flanked by Sam and Tommy. He kept his shoulders high, his stride unbroken, trying to act casual and like a man who had every right to be there.
Like an advisor.
Would this work? If it didn’t, they would be fucked. But if what the man said was true, and Atlas hadn’t disclosed Draevyn’s treachery to the realm yet, then this would be his only chance.
As they approached the grand palace of House Everhartt, guards appeared at the gates. Swords and several smaller blades were strapped to their backs and at their hips, but Draevyn knew those weren’t the weapons they would use if it came to that.
The elvens would use their mind-weaving magic.
One stepped forward, his voice sharp. “State your name.”
Draevyn’s steps halted several feet before the male. “I hardly think that will be necessary,” he said, his tone irritated.
He held out the palm of his hand, and flames burst from his fingertips, flickering in the darkness.
The two guards exchanged a wary glance. “We weren’t expecting you,” one of them admitted. “King Rowe arrived several hours ago. Where have you been?”
It was odd hearing the title King Rowe in reference to his brother.
Draevyn lowered his hand. “Finished my duties down at the docks. Forgive me for taking longer than I intended. But the armada still must be led, even while being Advisor to the King.”
Sam and Tommy shifted behind him. He sensed their uneasiness as the lies continued to pour from his mouth.
The guards turned toward one another while murmuring, clearly unsure of what to do with him. Between every other word, they eyed his men like they might sprout fangs.
Draevyn desperately worked to calm his nerves as the tension stretched. He didn’t fidget or blink. Just stood there, glaring at the guards.
Finally, the gate creaked open.
“Fine,” one of them muttered as he stepped aside. “But your men stay close. There will be no wandering.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Draevyn said smoothly, though his eyes flicked toward the spires above. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, ignoring his racing heart.
Where are you, Wildfire?
“I will escort you to King Everhartt’s throne room so you can meet with your king,” the guard finished.
As they stepped inside the walls, Draevyn glanced back toward the woods, where two round, golden eyes shone brightly, high above in the branches. He knew they were all watching, and Jak was now listening for a possible way in.
Draevyn had never set foot inside the elven castle, but the moment he passed beneath its vaulted archways, he understood why songs had tried and failed to capture its beauty.
Moonlight filtered through crystalline windows high above and was the only source of light as it bathed everything in a silvery sheen.
Vines laced the polished marble columns, reaching up toward the impossibly high ceilings as their blossoms seemed to glow.
The halls of the palace were still and serene, the silence feeling impossibly loud as if the fortress itself was watching him and listening.
It set him even more on edge.
Each step he took echoed too loudly in his ears as Sam and Tommy remained quiet and alert. Several more guards joined them as they entered, forming a loose half-circle around them as they walked. He’d given them no reason to detain him, but they still looked at him like a weapon not yet drawn.
Perhaps that’s exactly what I am.
His eyes scanned over every inch they walked, his mind moving impossibly fast.
Most of the windows were too narrow to escape. Several servants’ doors were left unguarded, but where did they lead? The further they walked, the deeper the knot in his chest grew. And every step he took brought him closer to his gilded lie, but most importantly to her.
The throne room loomed ahead, its tall doors of silverwood carved with twisting vines. Two guards stepped forward.
“No one enters,” one barked as they all halted before them. “By order of both kings.”
For a tense heartbeat, no one moved. Draevyn’s jaw locked, and he highly considered turning everyone in the room to ash and bursting though the fucking door himself.
“This is Prince Draevyn Rowe,” one of the guards announced, stepping forward. “Blood of the fallen king of Lephyrin, brother and advisor to the newly crowned shadow-born king himself.”
The stationed guard looked him over again, now slower and more measured. “Now tell me, then… are you here as your king’s advisor, or his Phoenix?”
“That depends entirely on you and whether or not you decide to make this difficult.”
Everyone went still, his threat lingering between them all.
“Orders are clear. Not even royal blood may enter without summons.” The guard took another step into him. “And if you dare threaten anyone else in this palace, you will find that your nightmares will never leave you again.”
Too bad this fool didn’t know Draevyn had been living in his worst nightmare for weeks at this point.
“I won’t be barred from my brother and king,” he said, voice low and cold. “Not by steel, not by magic, and certainly not by you.”
“Captain,” Sam warned.