Chapter 9 Rhianelle #2
My traitorous body responds to the command in his voice. I step from behind the curtain.
He turns to face me.
His expression is unreadable at first, but color sits high on his cheekbones. A flush that was not there before.
He is embarrassed too.
We stare at each other across the cottage. The fire crackles between us. Outside, the forest has gone silent, as though the entire world is holding its breath.
I cannot speak. My mouth opens, but nothing emerges.
What could I possibly say?
Sorry for hiding in your cottage and watching you in the washroom? Lovely weather we’re having? Please kill me now?
His eyes are dark. He does not appear angry, but he does not look friendly either.
“How long?” he asks quietly.
I know what he means. How long have I been there? How much did I see?
“Since...” I swallow and try again. “Since the beginning.”
Something flickers across his face. It’s gone too fast for me to read.
I want to explain and find the words that would make this less horrible. But there are no such words.
He takes a step toward me.
I retreat and strike the wall behind me.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, and something almost like amusement enters his voice. “Though I think we both know who the victim is in this particular situation.”
Heat floods my face. I cannot meet his eyes, so I stare at the floor instead. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have... I’ll leave now.”
“You followed me through the city, tracked me through the forest and entered my cottage without permission.” His voice remains calm, which somehow makes everything worse. “Leaving now will not make that disappear.”
My pulse pounds in my throat. I need to regain control of this conversation somehow. Any way I can.
“I heard you say my name,” I whisper.
He goes still.
“Why?” The question emerges small and confused. It is completely inappropriate after everything I have done, but I cannot stop myself from asking.
He is quiet for a long moment.
“Because,” he says finally, his voice rough, “I cannot stop thinking about you.”
I finally look up at him.
His expression is raw. All the careful control is stripped away. The air feels too thick to breathe.
“Oh,” I manage.
He runs a hand through his hair. “You watched. Why?”
It’s his turn now. My stomach twists itself into a knot. I don’t have a good answer.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
His eyes lock with mine, and I can’t look away.
“You could have left at any point. The door was right there.” His voice is soft but relentless. “But you stayed.”
My hands are shaking. “I’m sorry...”
“Don’t apologize.” He cuts me off. “Answer the question. Why did you stay?”
I have the answer.
Because I wanted to watch.
I can’t say it out loud.
“I should go.” I glance toward the door. “Rainer will wonder where I am.”
“Probably.”
But neither of us moves. We just stand there, staring at each other across the cottage in terrible silence.
“I didn’t mean to spy.” My voice wavers despite my effort to control it. “I thought you might be meeting someone. I’m trying to find traitors and conspirators in my court. I needed to know what you were doing out here.”
He studies me for a moment. “So you hid.”
My face burns so hot that I think I might combust. “I was going to leave, but then you started...”
I can’t say it.
“I didn’t know you were there,” he says, and something in his tone makes me look at him again. “Not until you gasped.”
“I should have announced myself and left immediately,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”
The silence stretches between us like a chasm. He stares at me for a long moment. I have the terrible feeling that he can see right through me.
Arescaine turns away first.
The movement breaks whatever strange tension has settled over the room. He walks to the table and places both hands against its edge, putting a few precious feet between us.
“I really shouldn’t have...”
“We have established what you should not have done.” He sighs, sounding tired rather than angry. “If we continue discussing it, neither of us will survive the embarrassment.”
I nod, grateful for the escape he is offering.
The awkwardness doesn’t disappear, but it loosens enough for us to breathe around it.
He reaches for a narrow wooden box resting on the table and begins unwrapping it. A moment later, he removes a bundle of papers and spreads them across the wood. Maps lie beneath lists of names, dates and locations, many of them connected by lines of red ink.
“What is that?” I ask, desperate for anything to focus on besides what has just happened.
He is quiet for a moment, his hands resting on the papers.
“The reason I came here.” He looks down at the papers. “I have uncovered evidence of a traitor within your court.”
The word cuts through everything. My head snaps up.
“A traitor? Who?”
“Lord Kharlis.”
Kharlis. The one who’s been so vocal at every war council about troop deployments and defensive positions.
“Show me,” I demand.
He steps aside, gesturing to the documents spread before us.
I move to the table and lean over them. The evidence is extensive. Dates and locations of secret meetings with known fae operatives. Records of fae gold transfers bear Avalon’s seals. Partially deciphered messages reveal elven troop positions and weaknesses within our defenses.
“He’s been selling information to the fae,” Arescaine says quietly. “Troop movements, supply routes and gaps in our defenses. The records go back at least six months.”
Six months.
Our people have been dying for six months because of him.
My hands clench into fists against the table. “Do you have proof?”
Arescaine produces another document. It is a letter bearing Kharlis’s personal seal.
“He’s too well connected and trusted,” Arescaine says. “No one would believe a Nightwalker’s word against his.”
He is right. Even now, with the evidence spread before me, part of me wants to deny it. Kharlis has served under Uncle Rainer for years. He has fought in countless battles and always appeared loyal.
“What were you planning to do?” I ask.
“He’s meeting his fae contacts tonight at a pleasure house in Greenvale.” Arescaine taps one of the documents. “I intended to catch him in the act and return with proof that even his supporters could not deny.”
I study the papers more carefully. Rage burns through me, hot and fierce.
Lord Kharlis. I can see his face in my mind, confident and certain that complete surrender is in our best interest.
All of it was lies and poison.
I continue staring at the evidence, my mind already racing.
“When are you leaving?” I ask.
“Now.” Arescaine gathers the documents and returns them to the satchel. “I need to reach Greenvale before the meeting begins.”
“How far is it?” I watch him fasten the satchel.
“Three hours by air, provided the winds remain favorable.”
I stare at him. “By air?”
“The last time I traveled through shadow, the fae commander sensed the disturbance.” His mouth tightens. “Some of the High Fae are bound closely enough to the Ysendrals to feel such anomalies. I cannot risk alerting them again.”
Travel through shadow? I nod as though any of that makes sense.
Three hours. I watch him secure the evidence, and certainty settles in my chest.
“I’m coming with you,” I say.
His hands still on the satchel. He looks up at me.
“What?”
“To Greenvale.” I meet his eyes. “I’m coming with you.”