Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Rylan
My fingers itch at my sword hilt as Duke Eldridge leans in way too close to me as he walks me out to the waiting carriage. When I spin around, he’s right there, his face inches from mine, more creased than usual, his voice filled with concern. “You need to relay to the king the severity of the situation. These rebels... they’re becoming bolder by the day. The movement is spreading faster than any of us anticipated. The kingdom needs you, Your Highness, to keep them in check.”
I nod, my expression steady. “I understand, Duke Eldridge. I’ll do what I can.”
He’s right to worry. The rebellion isn’t just growing—it’s thriving, and I know it’s only a matter of time before the kingdom will see just how strong it is. And the king’s council knows it all too well. It’s the aristocrats who are only just starting to catch on. It’s funny what people will pay attention to when their privilege is threatened .
“Safe travels, Your Highness,” he says, stepping back as I climb into the carriage.
“Thank you. And please, again, accept the gratitude of Their Majesties for hosting the princesses this last week.”
He bows, “Of course. It was our pleasure.”
Inside, my sisters are waiting. The moment I settle into my seat, the carriage lurches forward, the cobblestones beneath us creating a steady rhythm.
Elara, sitting straight-backed with her auburn hair impeccably braided, eyes me critically. “You took your time,” she remarks, her tone reproachful. “I’m surprised the Duke let you leave without introducing you to his daughter again.”
Elara’s words are always precise, chosen as carefully as her expressions. She’s the spitting image of our father, with sharp cheekbones and a gaze that could cut glass. It’s a look that demands respect, even if it grates on me at times. Sometimes I forget that she’s two years my junior and not, in fact, my older sister. She’s one of the rare people who isn’t afraid of me.
I sigh, leaning back into the seat. “Lady Francesca’s not my type. I’d appreciate it if you reminded her of that next time you’re staying with her for a month.”
“Oh, so you admit you have a type?” Alina teases as she sits across from me, grinning mischievously. She’s all bright eyes and bouncing curls, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, the picture of youthful exuberance. Her presence is a contrast to Elara’s sharpness—all sunshine and smiles. As the youngest, she’s even less afraid of me than Elara is. Probably because she knows that there’s a soft spot in my heart reserved just for her. There always has been.
“Not what I meant, Lina-Lou,” I reply, using her childhood nickname. She giggles and knocks her foot against mine. But my thoughts are worlds away, with someone I shouldn’t be thinking about. With someone who definitely isn’t my type, even if I had one.
Elara crosses her arms, watching me closely. “Perhaps you should start thinking about what is your type, brother. You’re not getting any younger, and there are responsibilities—”
“Responsibilities that he’s already handling just fine,” Alina interjects, giving Elara a pointed look. If she’s not afraid of me, then she’s for sure not afraid of our sister. “Honestly, can’t you let him have a moment’s peace?”
The conflict between Elara and me is as old as we are—born of our differences, our individual struggles with our responsibilities, yet always tempered by the unspoken bond of family. I love her, but she never misses an opportunity to remind me of the duties I can’t escape. Sometimes, I think she forgets who our father is, and reminding me is hardly necessary.
They continue talking, but my attention slips, thoughts wandering to where they have for the last few days. Her. The way she holds herself, the quiet strength in her gaze... that adorable furrow of her brow when she’s concentrating. The look of defiance when anything isn’t going her way. The way her ass rubbed back against me, making me raging hard every time she shifted in the saddle. I wonder if she’s okay and… if she’s thinking about me.
Stop it, Rylan . I cross my arms and shake my head, trying to clear my mind of thoughts of her.
“Thinking about someone special, brother?” Alina’s voice breaks through my reverie, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“What? No!” I say quickly, too quickly. “Just tired. Duke Eldridge raised some issues that need to be sorted out.”
Elara frowns, ever the serious one. “You need to take better care of yourself, brother. Mother worries about you, you know. Frankly, we all do. ”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her, forcing a small smile. It’s the best I can offer, given the circumstances.
The carriage rumbles on, the sky turning dark with each passing kilometre. When the city’s outskirts give way to open fields and distant woods, I knock on the roof, signalling the driver to stop. The carriage grinds to a halt, and both of my sisters turn to me with knowing looks. Elara’s is a mixture of disapproval and concern, while Alina’s is pure curiosity. But it’s nothing new; they’re used to me disappearing at a moment’s notice.
“Off to play the mysterious Crown Prince again?” Alina teases, her tone light but with a hint of something more, an unspoken wish that I didn’t have to leave. We rarely get to spend much time together anymore. I wonder if we will have unending days together like in our childhoods ever again. “Can’t I come with you on one of these trips sometime?”
I manage a smirk, though it feels more bitter than anything. “You’re welcome to take on the role instead of me.”
Elara rolls her eyes, always the responsible one. “As if you’d ever let us.”
It’s the age-old argument. Envy over birth order. But as much as I love and respect her, Elara has all the makings of a terrible queen. Everything our mother has, she lacks. She’s our father’s daughter through and through.
“Be careful,” she adds, softer now, her hand briefly touching mine.
“I always am,” I reply, squeezing her hand before I climb out of the carriage. It’s the best reassurance I can give. “Have a safe trip home. I’ll see you in a few days. Make sure to check in on Mother as soon as you arrive.”
I watch as the carriage pulls away, my sisters disappearing into the distance, back to the safety of the capital. Once they’re gone, I mount my horse and turn towards the forest. The road ahead is long, and my thoughts are a mess, but there’s one thing I’m sure of—what I need done can’t be done behind the walls of the castle. Dark deeds sometimes need to be done in the shadows.
Hours later, I arrive at a tavern, a small, unassuming place nestled deep in the woods. It’s still quiet inside, the kind of quiet that makes you check your surroundings twice. The evening traffic is yet to arrive. I slip inside, the collar of my coat pulled high, as I quickly scan the room. My eyes quickly adjusting to the dim light, I spot Astoris in a corner booth. He’s already nursing a drink, sharp-eyed as always, back to the wall.
“You’re late,” he says as I slide into the booth across from him. “Couldn’t get yourself to roll out of the lovely Lady Francesca’s bed?”
I throw him a glare. “No. Her father.”
“You were in Duke Eldridge’s bed? Well, that’s new.”
“Would you shut up? He had a lot to say. He’s worried,” I say, leaning back into the worn leather. “As he should be. The rebellion is making him nervous. But he’s also doing a good job of mobilising the local towns.”
Astoris raises an eyebrow. “Don’t blame him. The streets are filled with rumours of movement in the southwest corner of the woods. I take it the council is getting nervous?”
“Very,” I reply, with a nod, keeping my voice low. “If the rebellion spreads to the capital, it’ll be chaos. They know that. Any word on the next move?”
“We’re still watching,” he replies, equally cautious. “But I have a feeling that solstice is looking like the opportune time for the rebels to hit the capital.”
“That’s almost four months from now. That long?” From what the Duke was suggesting, it sounded like he thought an attack was imminent. I would need to delve further into who his sources were, and why he was getting such different information than me.
“Resources and bodies take time to assemble, Your Highness,” he says in a low but mocking tone. “Not everyone has an army at their fingertips.”
He gets a glare for his comment. “Keep me abreast. I’ll be back in the capital in a few days. You know how to get word to me there. But be safe about it.” He might be one of the crookedest people I’ve ever met, but he is also one of my closest friends.
He nods, understanding the gravity of what I’m not saying. After studying me for a moment, his gaze sharp, he says, “I also heard you finally brought your own choice for Aquilith?”
I hesitate, trying to keep my expression neutral, almost impossible since the mere mention of Eirabella makes my entire body flare with heat. I wait for my breath to stabilise before answering. “There’s someone who’s shown promise.”
“Promise, huh?” Astoris’s interest is piqued. “Who is she?”
He knows me too well. “I didn’t say she was a she.” Shit. That made almost no sense. Astoris’s eyes sparkle, and he opens his mouth to speak. “Shut. Up,” I hiss, holding up a finger. “She’s my disciple, nothing more .”
Astoris doesn’t back down, his grin only widening. “You’re awfully defensive about someone who’s your ‘nothing more.’ ”
“Drop it, Az,” I say, the words coming out sharper than intended. We’ve been friends too long for me to pull rank, but the conversation has gone far enough.
He spins his glass on the table before looking up at me, his eyes serious. “You’re not being a defensive dick about talking about this ‘nothing more’ with me because of Val, are you?”
I blink at the mention of the name, but slowly shake my head, muddled with thoughts of Eirabella .
“If you say so.” Astoris leans back, a knowing look in his eyes as he watches me wrestle with my own mind. I haven’t been able to get Eirabella’s inability to access her magic off my mind this whole trip. Among other things related to her. “You’re making that face again,” Astoris says, tapping his fingers on the table. “The one where you’re pretending not to be frustrated.”
I scowl, leaning forward. “I’m not pretending. She’s incredibly capable, Astoris. She’s strong, I’ve seen it. But no matter how hard I push her, she just… shuts down.”
Astoris sets his drink down with a soft clink, meeting my gaze. “You ever think maybe the pushing is the problem?”
I narrow my eyes. “What are you getting at?”
He sighs, leaning in. “Fear, Rylan. Fear is a paralyser of magic. You think shoving her into the fire will make her stronger, but what if all you’re doing is fanning the flames of whatever’s holding her back. You can’t break someone out of their own head by force.”
I sit back, the weight of his words sinking in. “So what? I’m supposed to coddle her? That’s not my style.”
“Not coddle. Guide. She’s afraid of her own power. And until you make her feel safe with it, she’s never going to unlock it.” He smirks. “I know patience isn’t your strong suit.”
Astoris’s words hit me like a brick. It wasn’t about how hard I could push her—but how much I could pull her out of the fear that’s been binding her. I hate when he’s right.
“Ughhhh,” I groan and lay my head on the back of the seat. “This is the last thing I need right now, Az.”
My friend chuckles and playfully kicks my foot under the table. “Then let her go. You know, since she’s nothing more than a disciple.”
I kick back twice as hard and raise my hand to the server for a drink .
I leave him half an hour later, my body and mind restless and eager to get moving. There are still many more stops I need to make before I can go home. Normally, I would be dreading the return to the castle, but instead, I find myself frustrated, almost anxious to get back, as though something… or someone… is pulling me back.