Chapter 25
Mikael
As days passed, the castle began feeling less like a home and more like a nest of hidden knives.
Mikael stood alone in the royal archives long after midnight with stacks of old military reports spread across the massive oak table before him.
Icy rain lashed sharply against the narrow stained-glass windows as every new document uncovered another inconsistency, another missing record, or another carefully erased detail connected to Skelvarn operations over the last decade.
Someone had strategically been cleaning the archives.
Entire patrol reports had vanished from certain years while documents referenced attached witness statements that no longer existed. The more Mikael searched, the more impossible it became to believe coincidence explained any of it.
Especially when Dag’s name appeared repeatedly around the missing files.
Mikael leaned heavily against the table and rubbed his eyes before opening another damaged report connected to a smuggling operation near the Stagholt border years earlier. Half the pages were gone.
Of course they were.
“Convenient,” he muttered darkly.
The dragon stirred restlessly beneath his skin, agitated by the same instincts that clawed through Mikael’s chest. Every path kept leading back toward Dag no matter how badly Mikael wanted another explanation.
He ran a hand through his hair. He was too tired to keep going, but he knew this was his fault. He had given Dag leniency and indulged his behaviors through the years because of their childhood friendship. Dag had gotten away with things that would have sent any other guard to the dungeon.
And now it was coming back to bite him. Not only because of the poisoning, but because Mikael had begun noticing something deeply unsettling every time the man spoke about Lyra.
Hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred. Mikael no longer believed it originated from simple schoolyard cruelty.
A knock sounded lightly against the archive door before Malaya slipped inside carrying two steaming cups of coffee.
“You look terrifying.”
Mikael accepted the coffee immediately. “I feel terrifying.”
“That’s reassuring.”
He ignored the comment while scanning another page. “Look at this.”
Malaya stepped beside him.
“This operation took place fifteen years ago near the Stagholt border,” Mikael explained quietly. “The reports mention intercepted Skelvarn smugglers and corrupt guards assisting them.” He tapped the edge of the damaged paper. “But half the names connected to the arrests are missing.”
Malaya frowned. “Removed deliberately?”
“Yes.”
“And Dag?”
“Assigned to the border division less than a year later.”
Malaya’s expression darkened instantly. Neither of them spoke for a moment.
“Maybe you should go to bed. Start up again tomorrow.”
“I need to do it while the rest of the castle sleeps. I don’t need Dag finding out that I’m catching up to his secrets.”
She giggled. “The castle has been a tomb ever since you blew up earlier.”
“They had it coming.” But even he knew that his temper had become dangerously unpredictable whenever Lyra or Beckett were involved. He sighed. The thought of her alone softened something inside him.
Lyra.
Without consciously deciding to, Mikael glanced toward the archive doorway as though expecting her to appear despite the late hour. His dragon noticed immediately.
Possessiveness coiled warmly through him at the mere thought of her asleep, curled beneath heavy blankets with Beckett safe nearby while snow and rain battered harmlessly against castle walls.
She slept beside him every night now, not always touching and sometimes only close enough that he could hear her breathing in the dark. The dragon in him had become fiercely attached to even that small intimacy. Mikael knew that he had too.
Malaya noticed the shift in his expression instantly and smirked. “Thinking about the flower girl again?”
“She has a name.”
“Ooh,” Malaya teased. “Protective.”
Mikael shot her a flat look before returning to the reports, though the warmth lingering in his chest refused to disappear. Scenes from earlier replayed in his mind.
Lyra had not adjusted easily to castle life. He noticed every strained smile she donned before entering crowded rooms and every flicker of discomfort when anyone whispered behind their hands while pretending not to stare.
The flower girl who bewitched the king.
The rumors spread fast. Some servants feared her while others resented her. A few simply watched with unabashed curiosity.
Earlier that morning Mikael had walked into one of the dining halls just in time to hear a visiting noblewoman mutter loudly enough for Lyra to hear. “It’s amazing what royal men will drag in from the countryside these days.”
The woman nearly dropped her teacup when Mikael stepped forward. “If you cannot manage basic respect toward the future queen of this crown, you may leave my castle immediately.”
The entire hall had fallen silent while Lyra herself looked stunned. The noblewoman fled moments later and nearly tripped over her own two feet.
“You are so easy to read by your expressions,” Malaya snorted. “You practically threatened to burn that woman alive over breakfast.”
“She insulted Lyra.”
“Yes,” Malaya replied dryly, “which apparently now qualifies as a capital offense.”
Mikael did not answer because disturbingly enough, part of him agreed. Malaya studied him carefully before her expression shifted into something more serious.
“I found something else tonight.” She hesitated. “The real reason I brought you coffee.”
Mikael immediately focused. “About Dag?”
She nodded once before pulling a folded document from her coat pocket. “This came from an old census registry in Stagholt.” She handed it over carefully. “Dag’s younger brother.”
Mikael scanned the page quickly. “Bjorn is incarcerated? That’s impossible. I went to his funeral myself.”
“That’s what I thought too.”
“But Dag always said—”
“I know what Dag said.” Malaya folded her arms tightly. “Apparently the entire family claimed Bjorn died in a river accident when they were children.”
Cold realization spread slowly through Mikael’s chest. Nothing but years of lies.
“Why would they fake his death?”
Malaya’s expression hardened. “Because prison was apparently more shameful.”
On the way back to his quarters, Mikael found Dag in the training yard sparring viciously against two guards hard enough that both men looked half-afraid to strike him properly.
Dag noticed Mikael immediately and dismissed the guards with a quick flick of his hand.
“What now?” Dag asked flatly.
Mikael stepped closer. “I didn’t expect to find you here this late, but since you are, we’re done lying to each other.”
Something briefly flickered across Dag’s face before it vanished. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Your brother.”
Silence. Dag’s jaw tightened visibly.
“You told me Bjorn died.”
“He may as well have.”
“That isn’t an answer. I found the prison records.”
Dag laughed softly beneath his breath, though there was no humor in it. “Of course you did.”
“I haven’t dug enough to find the full story, so why don’t you tell me. What really happened?”
Dag stared out across the training yard for several long seconds before speaking quietly. “Bjorn got involved with the Skelvarns.”
The answer stunned Mikael despite everything. “What?”
“He was young and stupid and angry,” Dag muttered bitterly. “The Skelvarns promised money and brotherhood.” His mouth twisted harshly. “The usual lies.”
Mikael remained silent.
“There was a smuggling exchange near Stagholt,” Dag continued. “Weapons. Information. Corrupt guards helping move supplies across the border.” His eyes darkened as he pinned Mikael with a glare. “The operation got conveniently intercepted.”
Mikael felt unease begin tightening through his chest. “By whom?”
Dag’s nostrils flared and his teeth ground together. “Lyra’s father.”
Shock rooted Mikael to the floor. “Her father?”
“Her father served King Sven directly back then.” Dag’s voice sharpened with old resentment. “He coordinated the operation that captured Bjorn and the others.”
Mikael stared at him in disbelief.
“Bjorn was thrown into prison,” Dag said flatly. “And my family…” His jaw clenched hard enough to ache visibly. “They decided it would be easier to tell everyone he died than admit he was rotting in a dungeon for treason.”
Mikael thought of all the years of torment. “You blamed her,” Mikael said slowly.
Dag laughed harshly. “I was nothing more than a boy. There was nothing I could do to help Bjorn.”
“So you spent years tormenting a girl because her father arrested a criminal?”
“He was my brother!”
“And Lyra was innocent! She probably had no idea what was going on. We’re all the same age, remember?”
The words cracked through the courtyard violently enough that nearby guards startled.
Dag’s expression twisted sharply. “What difference does it make?”
Guilt slammed viciously into Mikael’s chest all over again because every ugly memory from school came roaring back clearer now.
“You destroyed her childhood,” Mikael said hoarsely. “You tried to destroy her.”
Dag looked away. “She became the easiest place to put the anger, and after enough years, hatred becomes habit.”
Mikael felt sick. “You don’t get to go near her again.”
Dag’s eyes narrowed. “You really think she belongs in your world?”
“I think she belongs wherever she chooses.” The dragon stirred approvingly beneath Mikael’s skin.
Dag noticed the shift immediately and something ugly crossed his face. “Careful, Mikael. You’re becoming exactly what people imagine dragons are. One of these days, you’re going to sprout wings in front of everyone and burn your kingdom down.”
Mikael turned sharply and left before the rage boiling beneath his skin fully surfaced again. He should have known that Dag would use the one thing he had taken a blood oath to never reveal.
By the time he returned to his bedroom, exhaustion weighed heavily through every muscle in his body.
Lyra was already asleep in her room, curled beneath the blankets with Beckett tucked against her side after what he suspected was another nightmare.
Both of them finally looked peaceful for once beneath the soft glow of the fireplace.
Mikael stood there silently watching them for several long moments before he turned toward his own chamber. He would miss holding Lyra, but there was no way he was going to disturb them.
He laid back on his bed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, daylight streamed through the windows. He shook his head and wondered how he had slept so soundly.
A sharp knock interrupted the thought.
One of his guards stood outside the door, visibly tense. “Your Majesty.”
Mikael stepped carefully back into the hallway. “What is it?”
The guard lowered his voice immediately. “We intercepted communication outside the castle walls.”
Mikael’s expression hardened. “From who?”
“Boden, Sire. The one you told us to immediately report.”
Ice slid through Mikael’s chest. “Report.”
“He made contact with confirmed Skelvarn operatives approximately two hours ago.”
“What kind of contact?”
“We’re still investigating, Sire.”
A soft whimper interrupted them. Mikael turned to find Beckett partially hidden in the doorway, his eyes still swollen from sleep but with tears running down his cheeks. It was clear he had heard enough to understand one terrible thing.
His father knew where he was.