Chapter 36
Chapter
Thirty-Six
Sawyer was a master of avoidance. He hadn't so much as looked in mine or Sebastian's direction for nearly two weeks. He was in mourning—we all were. But instead of leaning on each other for support, Sawyer was holding a grudge over something not even the gods had control over.
“Let's get this over with,” Sebastian groaned, pushing open the door to his father’s study. We were a few minutes early, but he seemed to be lacking patience today.
“What the hell?” he murmured as we stepped into the room.
The king was not there, instead, Lucan stood in his place, fumbling through a stack of papers on the desk. He came to an abrupt stop upon our arrival, peering over his glasses at us.
“Oh! Hello, Mr. Hawthorne…Miss Willawood. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Lucan’s voice reflected his surprise.
Sebastian gripped the edge of the desk, splintering the wood as he leaned into Lucan's face.
He glared at the king's advisor, who fidgeted uncomfortably at the intimidation.
“What are you doing in my father’s study without him here?
'' His head cocked as the words slid off of his tongue in accusation.
Lucan looked down, fussing to put the papers back in order. “I…He moved your meeting to the throne room. Mr. Sinclair was supposed to inform all of the head guards to attend.”
“Fucking Sawyer,” Sebastian scoffed, then glowered back at Lucan. “You didn't answer my question.”
“I am gathering some information that the king requested be sent to the duke.”
Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest, unintentionally flaunting his muscles under his fitted shirt. “And what information might that be?”
“Just some data from the first year's coursework,” Lucan jumbled his words, scurrying to finish his task.
“Interesting,” Sebastian sneered, his suspicion obvious. He was being awfully harsh, in my opinion.
Lucan pushed his glasses up on his nose and stepped out from behind the desk, gathering a stack of papers in his arms. “Very well, I must be on my way now. I have to make sure this gets delivered in a timely manner.” His voice shook, then he waited for Sebastian to move so he could leave.
I didn't think he would, but Sebastian let him go.
The king's advisor hurried out of the room, picking up speed when he entered the corridor.
I turned to Sebastian, whose knuckles at last unclenched. “First of all, it's hot when you act all intimidating. Second of all, what the hell was that?”
“Fuck if I know.” He spun on his toes, heading right back out the way we came. His pockets filled with his hands as he rushed us down the hall, not giving me any indication as to where we were going.
“Why were you being so cold towards him?” Lucan had never done me any wrong. He didn't seem to have a mean bone in his body.
“He knows better than to be in there without the king.”
“You don’t believe him?” I asked, jogging after him.
“Nope.”
“Well then shouldn't we tell someone?”
Silence.
I sneered at his disregard for my question. “Where are we going?”
“Throne room.”
Right. We still had a meeting to attend. I glanced around the hall—I really should have known the castle better by now.
Sebastian burst into the throne room, throwing the doors open, loudly announcing our presence.
King Hawthorne sat on his throne, his crown sparkling in the candlelight above him. Duke Sinclair stood beside him, and the head soldiers were in formation—minus Jocelyn.
Lucan’s words became more incredulous by the second as he was nowhere to be seen.
“Sorry we’re late,” Sebastian bellowed as he strutted to his place in formation. “Someone failed to inform us of the change of location.” He gave Sawyer a sideways glance.
“I couldn't find you,” Sawyer huffed.
“You didn't even try.” Sebastian rolled his eyes to the veil above.
“I tried your room, but you weren't there. Maybe I should have checked Willawood’s.” He lowered his voice with his last sentence, so the king wouldn’t overhear.
“Watch your mouth,” Sebastian cautioned.
“You guys are acting like children.” Kohen leaned out of line to intrude on their bickering.
“Me? I'm not the one who's been avoiding his friends for two weeks,” Sebastian shot back.
Sawyer scoffed in response.
King Hawthorne loudly cleared his throat to grab their attention. “Sebastian, are you done picking arguments with your fellow soldiers?” He glared at his son, the heat of his gaze as hot as the fire that emitted from his ruby.
Sebastian straightened his posture and clasped his hands behind his back, standing in the same position as the other soldiers.
“Now that everyone has joined us, I have an announcement to make that should bring joy to each and every one of you.”
I settled myself in a seat at the front of the room, pointing my eyes on Sawyer while the king continued.
“Although Draemor ultimately retreated, and despite the fact that our army had the advantage of time and size, the Draemornian force was still better prepared and stronger than we anticipated. It was a close fight in Craterra. We lost many of our own.”
Sawyer was deadpanned as he stared at Aldous Hawthorne, who grasped my attention when I noticed how rundown he looked.
His usual clean cut goatee had grown to a full beard, and his under-eyes were dark, hollow bags.
I couldn't say that I blamed him. Running a kingdom must be difficult—even if you were doing a shitty job at it.
“Cyprian Beaumont has made his intentions clear for years—that he would one day reclaim land lost.” The king rose from his throne, stepping down the burgundy scaffold it sat upon.
“Then the stakes were raised when he was presented with an additional incentive.” He approached me, placing a hand on my shoulder and I shivered at the touch of his wretched skin.
“Beaumont had been consistently threatening Caelestis with war for years now, but all of that ended today.” He removed his hand, facing his soldiers to elaborate.
“He has withdrawn his threats, knowing that the Caelestian army outnumbers his own, and that his army stands no chance at winning a war against us.” Looking down at me, he said, “You are safe, and the eastern territory will remain free.”
The blinking of my eyelids was responsible for the only movement coming from my body.
Surely this couldn't be true. Beaumont wouldn't just give up like this. There was too much history between the kingdoms, and he had been pining for me for almost a year.
“Oh bullshit,” Sebastian drawled his words and stepped out of formation.
“You really believe that?” he questioned his father, striding towards him.
“Do you truly think that after everything, Draemor is just going to give up? That Beaumont is just going to forget about the land and let Maeve live freely?” Sebastian held an arm out directed at me.
“Why yes, soldier, I do.” King Hawthorne held his ground.
Sebastian scoffed, and to my surprise Sawyer stepped out of formation as well, followed by Kohen.
“With all due respect, Your Highness, I have to agree with your son,” Sawyer disclosed. “Beaumont has had his focus on Maeve for months. It doesn't make sense that all of a sudden he just has no desire for her. I don't think we should conclude from this that she's safe.”
“I agree as well, sir,” Kohen interjected. “Have you considered the possibility that Draemor is using this as a tactic to get us to drop our wards?”
The king scowled at the three of them questioning his authority. “Of course I have considered that, Mr. Sharpe,” he snarled.
Duke Sinclair chimed in before any of them could speak any further. “We have calculated the risks that come with accepting these terms, and at this point in time have no reason to believe that King Beaumont is stating anything other than the truth.”
These two were bigger idiots than I’d ever realized.
I stepped forward, joining my friends. “If I may, I have something I'd like to say. Seeing as I’m the one who's been used as a pawn between the two kingdoms for months on end, I think I should be entitled to have an opinion in this.”
The king nodded his approval.
I cleared my throat, glancing around, all too aware of all the attention directed at me.
“We are all aware that there are still at least two traitors living among us, likely in this very castle, correct?” I asked, referring to the conversation Sebastian and I overheard in the archives.
When the king and duke nodded, I carried on.
“That alone has to make you wonder if your soldiers are right.
Maybe this really is a tactic to throw us off.
To get us to drop our guard. I don't think we should jump to any conclusions—”
“That is enough!” the king bellowed. “From all of you.” His eyes darted between the four of us.
“I will not tolerate being ridiculed by my own army. Draemor has pulled back, and that is that. Until we have reason to believe otherwise, you will accept these terms and I will not continue this conversation any further.” The king's soulless eyes found mine.
“I expect to see you at the end of the week for the ceremony. And don't be late again.”
Shit. I had forgotten all about the armoring ceremony this weekend. When the year of Caelestis academy concludes, the surviving first years are presented with their first set of armor. The event is followed by a grand gala in the courtyard.
King Hawthorne removed himself from the room, everyone else filing out after him except for Sebastian, Sawyer, Kohen, and I. We waited until the others left, huddling together once they were gone.
“I hate him,” Sebastian muttered. “Gods damn fucking moron—” he mumbled a few more curse words, but I could not make them out.
“I have a really bad feeling about this,” Kohen exhaled sharply, crossing his arms over his chest.
I nodded in agreement. “Something about this isn't right.” Something about Lucan being in the king's study did not feel right either, though I had no idea why.