Chapter Forty-Two #2
“I’ll tell him,” Braden said, never taking his eyes off Silas. “Legally, in Bellacosta, any child of a royal parent is eligible for the throne. Your mother and I were married until the day she died. Although I had Koen outside of that marriage, he’s … well …”
“My heir,” Silas said on a breath, seeing Koen with new eyes.
Koen hunched his shoulders and looked down at the ground. “I’m not trying to take over your kingdom or anything. Father just said it’s safer if people know I exist, that the royal bloodline will continue.”
Though controlling Silas had been Alistair’s first plan, his second relied on the lack of a royal heir.
During a war, no one is searching for the heir.
They’re focused on the enemy. If Silas died during the chaos of war, Bellacosta would need a new leader, a new king—a role Alistair had perfectly situated himself to step into.
If Alistair really is possessing Valerian, is he still hoping to take over Bellacosta? Would announcing Koen as my heir delay him? Or would he redouble his efforts to kill me while trying to turn Koen into his new puppet?
Everything was happening too quickly. Archer’s departure. Emmaline’s return. His father’s return. His brother’s existence. Varro’s impending attack. All of Silas’ concerns and worries crowded around him and he didn’t know what to do, who to talk to—
A soft chime sounded before a letter popped into existence right in front of Silas. He snatched it from the air and clutched it so tight, he almost ripped the parchment. “I’m sorry,” he said, pushing off from the table. “I have to deal with this.”
“Silas, wait—” his father called after him, but Silas had already hurried down the hall.
Thumping footsteps followed him, and Silas turned to snap at his father that he needed to be alone, only to realize it was his own guard, once again having to run to keep up with him. Langley had been so unobtrusive during their conversation, Silas had forgotten his existence.
When Silas reached his office, he gave Langley a brusque order to remain outside, then closed the door in his face. Silas’ hands trembled as he opened the scroll, no idea who it was from. Adelaide or Valerian, hopefully, proving all of Emmaline’s fears wrong.
Or maybe it was Alistair himself, taunting Silas, giving him the brief hope that his friends were all right before thoroughly crushing it under his boot.
As he opened the letter, the familiar handwriting brought tears to his eyes. It was no one he’d suspected, and the person he wanted to hear from most.
Silas,
Every time we are separated, I try to convince myself it is necessary. That we made the right choice.
But I never fully succeed.
Even now, while I try to eliminate the obstacles pushing us apart, all I want is to turn my horse around and ride right back to you.
It kills a small part of me to know I can’t.
I found Adelaide, but the threat to both of our kingdoms remains.
I am continuing to Casselarn to shield it from the mage.
The general now threatens your shores with a new ally.
I would tear myself in two if it would allow me to protect both my home and my heart, but then there wouldn’t be enough of me to protect either.
Please believe that I am not choosing my kingdom over you. I am, instead, choosing to believe in your strength. That you can protect Emmaline, your kingdom, and yourself. That when this is all over, we will both be victorious, and we will be together again.
No matter how far apart we are, my heart is always with you,
Archer
A second letter was included with the first, this one from Adelaide, where she explained everything she knew about Niall’s deception, Alistair’s possession of Valerian, Penn’s whereabouts, and Varro’s potential new ally: Everett Shaw, Emmaline’s father.
Silas had already learned most of the information, but Archer and Adelaide didn’t know that. Even as they rushed ahead to save Arnsveld from Alistair, they took the time to give Silas all the information he needed to protect himself and Bellacosta.
Teardrops dotted the letter, smearing the charcoal. Silas dabbed them away carefully, afraid of smudging some necessary piece of information he would need to share with Captain Moira.
Then he took a piece of parchment from his desk and wrote his reply.
Dear Archer,
I wish you were here with me.
Silas immediately wiped the wet ink away. He didn’t want Archer to be stuck in Bellacosta, where people treated him like a villain and a tyrant; where the nobility scrambled to steal every piece of power for themselves; where every little task or challenge pulled them apart.
Dear Archer,
I wish we were together. More than anything, I want to be by your side. I feel strongest when I’m with you.
So much has happened since you left. Emmaline arrived safely in Litus yesterday, bringing her own news of her father’s alliance with Varro. No matter what troubles come to our shores, I’ll make sure she’s protected here.
And someone else arrived with Emmaline. My father has finally returned to Bellacosta, and I’m not sure how to feel.
I understand why he left—that if he hadn’t, Alistair would have killed him, and we’d have no opportunity for this reunion.
But he didn’t simply leave to protect himself—he left to protect his other son.
I’ve known my little brother for less than an hour and I am already embarrassingly jealous of him.
He grew up safe, protected, with a father who loved him enough to sacrifice his life in Bellacosta.
Though what was he really sacrificing? A loveless marriage.
A title with no power. Clearly Gessa and I were not enough for him to stay.
More tears splashed onto the parchment, but Silas barely noticed, writing right through them.
Did I want him to stay, even if it probably would have meant his death?
I’m ashamed to admit I don’t know.
And I feel the same way with you gone. Did I want you to stay, even knowing it could mean the destruction of your kingdom?
Selfishly, yes.
And even more selfishly, no. Because I would have rather left with you than stayed here.
He took a deep breath, letting the truth settle firmly into his chest.
Regardless of what we both want, our decisions are made. I will protect my home, and you will protect yours. Maybe one day we will call the same place ‘home’ and protect it together.
While your heart is with me, mine is with you. Keep my heart safe until we see each other again,
Silas
He carefully peeled off the magical wax, just as he’d done with Alistair’s letters, and used it to seal his own letter. Long moments passed as he waited for the magic to work.
Nothing happened.
The letter remained inert, and Silas remained alone.
A knock on the door startled him out of his melancholy. He hastily wiped the tears from his face before calling, “Come in—”
Emmaline burst into the room, Echo on her heels. “We’ve been looking all over for you!”
“You were supposed to meet the captain an hour ago,” Echo scolded, wagging a finger in Silas’ face like a displeased tutor.
“We’ve got plans to make, defenses to raise, bullies to scare off.
And we had to leave your dear general with my dear captain and I’m pretty sure if someone doesn’t intervene, one of the deer will turn into a wolf. ”
Even though it meant more work for him, a small smile played around Silas’ lips. “I received a letter from your mother,” he replied, handing Adelaide’s letter to Em. He kept Archer’s letter for himself, tucking it into his jacket’s interior pocket so it could rest against his heart.
Emmaline’s eyes watered as she clutched her mother’s letter to her chest. “She’s all right! Oh, thank you, Silas! Thank you!” She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, then whirled out of the room again, knocking her shoulder into the door as she tried to walk and read at the same time.
When they arrived at the Merchant’s Guild Headquarters, the whole office was already filled: Adviser Cal and Mr. Tomlin, Darian and Griselda, Braden and Koen, Captain Moira and several members of her crew.
“There you are, Silas,” Griselda called, her voice booming through the small space. “Need your input on something.”
Although the one person he wanted most wasn’t there, seeing everyone gathered here together reminded Silas that he wasn’t alone after all.
He took a deep breath and strode toward the desk she’d commandeered. “Of course, General. What do you need?”