Chapter 11 #2
Maybe them, but not Brielle. She’s still here, riding a wyvern into war again despite having lost her own.
“But you’re not hiding,” Leda clips out, her eyes stormy. “You’re here—risking your life.”
Brielle meets her gaze, a fierceness swirling there as she whispers, “Some of us avoid the pain by staying busy, while others run away from it.”
Every word is laced with torment, and it’s clear that there’s so much more to Brielle that I don’t know.
Brielle turns to me, her eyes glassy. “If I’d known Daimon was alive—that he was your father—we would’ve gone about how we approached him completely differently. I wasn’t prepared to see him, I—” Brielle swallows thickly. “I’m sorry you had to see him that way.”
I look down at my hands, forcing the next question out. If we were going to go up against him again, I need to know more. Beyond my curiosity, if there’s any way we can learn about our enemy better, we have to lay it all out there.
Something pinches in my chest as the word enemy crosses my mind. I shake it off. I need to focus right now. Maybe if I know more about his background, it could help me learn how he works now.
“Was Daimon always evil?” I ask softly. “Did you fight against him in the war?”
Brielle shakes her head quickly. “No, nothing like that.” Her gaze drifts to the wall, staring at nothing as her eyes grow distant.
“He worked his way up the ranks after receiving the call to be a Rider,” she continues, lost in memories of the past. “The Aegis council head at the time, Keir, took to him early on and trained him. Keir could’ve easily been the Alpha Commander, but he pushed for Daimon to be the one to take it.
“Even when Daimon became our commander, he was often quiet. More reserved until it came time for battle. He was different from the others in leadership positions, orphaned and taken in by Annora’s parents.” Brielle hesitates and slows to a stop, forcing me to face her.
My chest tightens. There’s still so little that I know about my family history. I shift in my seat, feeling Leda’s gaze on me but keeping mine on Brielle.
“Your mother should be the one to tell you about him,” Brielle says carefully. Her eyes search mine, pain flickering in her gaze.
My mother may have kept this from me, but it’s hard to imagine she didn’t have her reasons. I wish I knew those reasons. Whatever they may be, she still chose to let me believe Reichardt was my real father.
The sting of betrayal pokes at my chest, but I push it down. None of these things help us move forward with figuring this out.
“But she isn’t here,” I argue. “This isn’t about me getting to know my father. Any information that could be helpful in knowing our enemy is what matters most right now.”
It feels as bitter saying it as it did thinking it, and something tells me that Brielle can see right through the flimsy words. But she doesn’t question it, simply nods her head and starts talking again.
“He’s still in there, Lu,” Brielle says softly. “I didn’t mean the things that I said back in the clearing. I wanted to see if I could get under his skin—break through whatever darkness has a hold of him.”
I blink, my skin itching from the weight of her gaze.
“If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did,” she adds. “I pushed the wounds that would hurt the most, and beneath all that anger, there was pain.”
Was she looking at the same man I was? The only thing I saw in his gaze was unadulterated darkness. There was no mercy in his eyes, no flicker of light. He was trying to kill us.
Daimon was the fleet’s leader—somehow going from wyvern commander, fighting for the crown, to the Lord of Shadows, serving Vidaris.
I want to know if he tricked everyone into believing he was a good man, or what could’ve possibly caused him to fall so far—want to know what runs through my blood.
“I know you knew him in another life, Brielle, but…”
She lifts her chin—her eyes hardening—and my voice trails off.
I want to believe her, but hope is a dangerous thing. And this hope isn’t where my focus should be right now. Even if he was someone she knew, that doesn’t mean that was the real him—or maybe it was and he’s simply too far gone now.
She’s not going to change her mind about this. How is she so certain he wasn’t like this all along? That he wasn’t simply biding his time to betray them; that he was to blame for the empire crumbling.
“You’re right—I did know him in another life.” Her voice softens, but her mouth is set in a thin line. “He was good, Lu. He put everyone before himself time and time again. I know you can only see him as what he is today, but he was one of the best people I have ever met.”
Good.
That word sits in my chest with the weight of a thousand boulders.
The man she’s describing certainly isn’t the one we came face-to-face with. And as much as I hate to admit it, a sharp ache of longing shoots straight to my heart. I’d always wanted a father like that, a father I could be proud of.
But that man is gone.
I swallow and force myself to take a deep breath. I can’t get lost in the past when the future depends on every move we make now.
Leda sits quietly, listening intently but not adding anything.
“He loved your mother.” Brielle’s voice cracks.
“It’s not my place to tell you their story, but I can tell you what I know to be true.
Daimon had never thought he was good enough for Evelina, had trained himself to the bone from the moment he was chosen as a Rider—all to work his way up in the ranks for her.
“Of course, I didn’t know at the time that that’s why he always worked so hard.
” She huffs a laugh. “But once I saw them together years later… It all made sense. His eyes would follow her every move—some nights, he would stand outside of her cabin without more than an hour of sleep to make sure she was safe. His love for her far outweighed the love he had for himself.”
I swallow, a bitter taste coating my tongue.
My mother never told me any of this, and I’m certain this barely scratches the surface of their story. I have to hold onto the hope that she had her reasons, that her hiding this outweighed me knowing the truth.
She’s right—that’s not the man I see him as, nor can I imagine him behaving that way. The Lord of Shadows is brutal. Selfish. Even in the short time I was around him, that much was evident.
But the man she’s describing…
That’s the man I would be proud to call my father.
“You’re saying there’s a chance he’s still…him?” My stomach churns as I ask.
Brielle nods sharply. Before she can tell me anything else, though, movement catches my eye at the door to the cottage.
Aster’s stark white hair is tied into a low bun, his arms crossed as he watches us. He leans forward, his gaze unreadable. Willow is beside him, similarly stoic as she gazes down at Brielle.
“Mylah, give us a moment, will you?” Willow calls out to the young healer, who nods at her and shuffles out of the room.
Willow and Aster step in, Leda and I both sitting a little taller as they pull up chairs to join us.
They’re different today, no charcoal smudged across their faces or hoods pulled over their heads.
They aren’t in the tattered green cloaks; instead, they both wear simple brown pants and fitted leather tops.
Seeing them this way—Willow with the smattering of light freckles across her cheeks and Aster with his soft eyes—makes them feel more…approachable. Friendly.
But as soon as the thought enters my mind, the idea of them being friendly dissolves.
They sit around Brielle’s cot with fire burning in their gazes—intensity only a warrior can have.
They don’t say anything, and neither do we.
Tension weaves into the air as I try to figure out if these are fae we can truly trust. Brielle is still lying down, her jaw clenching as she looks between them.
I don’t see this going easily, so I settle back, preparing myself for a long day of arguments.
Well, this is going to be fun.