CHAPTER 51 - The True Traitor
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A great deal of time passed as we pressed onward. Soon, the oak forests of Flynmoore gave way to the towering, resin-scented pines of Pineholt. The journey felt endless, the days bleeding into each other until I couldn't tell them apart.
Through it all, Sylvos was true to his word.
He almost never let me out of sight. By day, I rode in his carriage, the world rolling by in a blur of green. And by night, I stayed in his tent.
There was a new edge to him since the attack.
His commands were sharper, his punishments swifter.
The air around him felt tense, like a storm waiting to break.
I wanted to hate him for it. Yet every time I saw the way his gaze darted to me in the quiet moments, protective and fierce, I couldn't fully bring myself to.
Finally, as spring waned and the air grew humid with summer, we reached Driftwoode's border. The sight was striking: a great wall of stone cutting across the land, anchored by a fortress perched at its center.
Built at the narrow most point of the Fayndor continent, the wall stretched from coast to coast, an unbroken barrier between the north and the south.
The army camped just beyond the reach of the wall's arrows. At night, the torches along the wall burned bright, the flames flickering nervously. No doubt the watchers must all be saying their prayers seeing the size of Sylvos' army.
That night, Sylvos took extra care as he polished Briarvex. I sat beside him on the edge of the bed, watching the throned hilt of the sword gleam in the tent's firelight.
"Will you use Briarvex to bring the wall down?" I asked quietly.
His hands stilled for a moment, and then he shook his head.
"No," he said simply.
"Why not?" I asked, toying with the hem of my red gown. "Even back in Flynmoore, you didn't."
Sylvos let out a slow breath, the cloth in his hand pausing over the blade.
"Because I overworked the magic before we began our march," he admitted. "When I use too much of it, my mind feels like it could split apart. I have to let it rest, or it might consume me."
A shiver ran down my spine at the thought.
"What did you do to strain the blade so much?" I asked.
He offered me a smirk but did not answer. Instead, he rose from the bed, the fire in the brazier nearby glinting against the polished plates of his thorned armor. He fastened the last strap himself before turning to me.
"Fix this, will you?" he asked, gesturing to a buckle at his shoulder.
I stepped closer, fingers working over the leather straps, pulling them tight. When I finished, he caught my hand. And without warning, he kissed me. It was firm, lingering, and achingly tender.
"Wish me luck," he murmured against my lips.
I swallowed and forced a small smile.
"Goodluck."
His grin widened, dangerous and beautiful.
"With that, I feel I could conquer the world," he said.
"Please don't," I rolled my eyes.
He chuckled at that before sweeping his cloak behind him and striding out into the night.
I followed only as far as the tent's flap, staying in the shadows. Outside, Sylvos gathered a small company of elite soldiers — mostly Briarbound knights. Cavriel was among them. His eyes found mine across the clearing, and in that fleeting moment, I saw the war raging inside him.
He was about to fight against his own people.
Even if I wanted to, there was nothing I could say that would make any of this any better.
The company then headed out, cloaks drawn low. I stood there for a long moment, staring after them, until the sound of silken voices broke my thoughts.
"Since our husband goes off to battle," Isolde said sweetly, "we should all pray together for his victory."
I turned my gaze toward the three Nightshades.
"I'd rather be resting," I said.
Isolde's red lips curled into a venomous smile.
"You have no authority to refuse, Rose."
With that, they swept past me, making themselves comfortable inside Sylvos' tent.
I sighed heavily.
Though I would've normally left to spend my night elsewhere, my daggers were both still inside.
I slipped back through the flap, my eyes going straight to where Raincatcher had been left — only to see it already in Isolde's hand. She twirled the dagger lazily, studying the storm-forged gem in its hilt with mock curiosity.
Across from her, Griveen leaned against the table, smirking with Windcleaver in her grip.
Meanwhile, Cerys sat quietly in a chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her icy eyes devoid of any light as usual.
Isolde sighed, letting the dagger spin between her fingers.
"What magic lies in this little blade, I wonder?" she mused. "For you to call rain with your little dance?"
Griveen snickered.
"The emperor only favors her because of her tricks. Without them, she's nothing."
"I'd like my daggers back," I said, my voice cold.
Isolde's lips curled into a smirk.
"Isn't it peculiar?" she drawled. "How you managed to tame the vylnir? A beast that not even His Majesty could control?"
Griveen tilted her head, her white tipped hair spilling over her shoulder.
"You're right. It is peculiar."
Isolde stepped closer, spinning Raincatcher between her slender fingers like a toy.
"You must have put a spell on the creature. After all, you already know how to use magic..."
Griveen let out a dramatic gasp, blue eyes going wide.
"You don't think she could have done the same to the emperor, do you?"
Isolde's voice turned cold as ice.
"It's certainly possible."
I rolled my eyes.
"Your antics are boring. Now, if you'll give me back my—"
"Maybe if we get rid of this little blade," Isolde said, walking toward the brazier at the tent's center, "everything will go back to normal."
My stomach dropped.
"Don't," I warned.
Isolde only smiled, wicked and sweet.
"I'm only helping our husband," she said, holding Raincatcher over the flames.
My chest tightened in terror. I didn't know what would happen if Raincatcher burned, but I didn't want to risk losing Ryn.
"Don't you dare!" I shouted.
Her smile turned to a manic grin, her grip on the dagger loosening...
"Goodbye, little spellcaster—"
Without thinking, I lunged.
The world blurred as I crashed into her, knocking her back from the fire. Isolde shrieked, clawing at me as we struggled. I grabbed for the dagger, desperate, my fingers brushing the hilt. And in the chaos, steel kissed flesh. Isolde screamed, her voice piercing as she clutched at her bleeding arm.
The tent flap burst open, and guards rushed inside, their weapons half-drawn.
"She's gone mad!" Griveen cried, pointing at me. "She attacked Lady Isolde!"
"No, that's not—" I started, but the guards' horrified faces stopped me cold. I glanced down at myself on top of Isolde. There was blood everywhere. And a dagger in my hand.
With Griveen shouting and Isolde sobbing, I couldn't even blame the guards as they pulled me off and took me away.
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It had been hours since they locked me up. The wagon they used as a prison cell was nothing more than iron bars bolted over wooden wheels. Though it should've bothered me, I'd endured the exact same conditions for much longer after the Royal Hunt all those months ago.
At least this time, I didn't have to share my space with a hulking wolf.
I sighed, glancing up at the sky. I suppose it was a relief that the vylnir was out hunting. Having the creature rip apart half the guards would only make the situation worse.
All I could do was wait here until Sylvos decided my fate.
What punishment would he choose? I wondered bitterly. Or would he kill me on the spot?
No matter what, it always turned out like this, didn't it?
The hours dragged on and eventually dawn crept slowly across the horizon, the sky blooming with pale purple and pink. I hadn't slept a wink, only watched as the first rays of sunlight spilled over the distant wall.
That's when I noticed it.
The golden, white, and blue banners of Driftwoode were gone. And in their place, silver, black, and green rippled in the early light.
They had succeeded.
The border has fallen.
I stayed locked up for another couple of hours after that. With the wall being secured and new posts assigned, Sylvos and his knights only returned when the sun began to set again. Cheers erupted through the soldiers. Even the Nightshades rushed toward their emperor with praise and relief.
But somehow, amid the chaos, Sylvos' black eyes cut through the crowd like a blade.
And found me instantly.
My heart faltered under the weight of that gaze.
He pushed past the Nightshades and soldiers alike, striding straight toward my prison.
"What happened here?" he demanded, his voice sharp as steel.
Isolde stepped forward with a pitiful whimper.
"She attacked me without reason, my love!" she cried.
The soldiers who had been guarding me stepped up, confirming her lie.
"We had to pull her off Lady Isolde," one said quickly, producing Raincatcher from his side. "She had this dagger at her throat."
Isolde held up her bandaged arm dramatically.
"I nearly lost my life! All I did was ask her to pray for your safety! I didn't know it would anger her so..."
Sylvos snatched Raincatcher from the guard, studying it. His face shifted, torn between fury and confusion. Then his eyes turned to me.
"Is this true?"
My eyes burned at the question, my nose stinging. It was pointless. Even if I tried to defend myself, it would always end the same.
Death after death...
"It's not true, Your Majesty," I said, my head hanging in resignation.
Would it be Briarvex? I wondered. Or would he make it public?
"Let her free right now!" Sylvos' voice bellowed.
My eyes flew wide, my head snapping up.
Sylvos looked murderous, his glare aimed at the poor guards.
"Which one of you laid your hands on her?" he demanded.
The guards stiffened, then dropped to their knees.
"Sire, we only did what we thought was right!"
Sylvos' sneer was lethal.
"If your heads have such useless thoughts, then you're better off without them."
Gasps rippled through the camp while the Nightshades remained frozen in disbelief. Even I felt my whole world flipped on its head.
He believed me...
For the first time, Sylvos believed me...
"Release her at once!" he commanded.
The lock clicked open, and I crawled out, unsteady from the hours I'd spent inside. Before I could take another step, he pulled me into his arms, holding me close.
This had to be a dream...
It couldn't be real...
"Instead of harassing my bride," Sylvos chastised, "lock up the true traitor."
And just like that, the dream turned into a nightmare.
A prisoner was dragged forward, barely standing. His face was swollen, his hair matted with blood, and his armor gone, leaving only torn clothes clinging to his battered frame. For a heartbeat, I didn't recognize him. Then I saw the blond curls... The broad shoulders... And those green eyes...
My heart stopped.
Cavriel.
"No..." The word slipped from me, too quiet for anyone to hear.
They shoved him into the cell I had just left, the door clanging shut. Sylvos himself took the key, looping it securely around his neck. He leaned close to the bars, his voice low and venomous.
"In the morning," he promised, "you'll be made an example of."
Cavriel didn't give him the satisfaction of reaction and Sylvos scoffed, turning to the gathered soldiers.
"The border has fallen. Tonight, we celebrate. And tomorrow we march."
The uneasy crowd slowly broke out into cheers. But Sylvos didn't linger to bask in their voices. He turned, lifting me into his, and carried me back to his tent.
I had never felt so conflicted in my life.
Part of me trembled at what he had done. He had believed me without hesitation, even against the words of the Nightshades. Even without an explanation. He had chosen me, easily.
That knowledge alone left a massive blow in my resolve.
And yet... Cavriel.
The thought of him chained, beaten, and awaiting execution curled around my heart like thorns. I couldn't even be angry at Sylvos for the decree. He was only doing what any ruler would.
If there was anyone to blame for all this, it was me.
We entered the tent, a fire already warming the space. Sylvos set Raincatcher down on the dining table, then motioned his attendants. They immediately rushed to obey, bringing steaming buckets to fill the silver tub.
He guided me to the bed, easing me down onto the furs as if I could break. Then he exhaled a long, weary breath and began stripping the bloodstained armor from his body. Metal clinked and leather straps creaked as he worked, each piece falling away to reveal the man beneath.
I didn't know what to say. I desperately wanted to know why he believed me so easily. But I had to find a way to save Cavriel first.
"What... happened?" I asked. "Why was that man back there a traitor?"
"He's Ser Cavriel Gildmere. I caught him right in the act.
He was helping the wall's warden and his family flee.
When I confronted him, he drew his spear against me.
" He shook his head with a bitter sigh. "At least I found one spy.
.. To think it was a Briarbound knight..
." His black eyes lifted to me, dark and unreadable. "I almost admire his commitment."
My throat tightened.
"Will you truly execute him? Wouldn't it be better to keep him alive? For ransom, or information?"
Sylvos gave a low, humorless chuckle.
"You already know a Briarbound's oath is for life. He did too. Any man sent on such a mission was likely disposable from the start. And if he already gambled his life, I doubt any torture could reveal information. He's better off as an example."
The attendants finished filling the tub, the steam rising in delicate tendrils. Sylvos flicked his hand dismissively.
"Leave us."
They bowed and vanished into the night, leaving only the crackle of the fire and the sound of water lapping softly against the tub's rim.
Sylvos turned to me then, his expression softening in a way that almost hurt to look at.
"Will you join me?" he asked.
My eyes drifted to the key glinting faintly against Sylvos' chest, suspended by a leather cord around his neck.
Taking it would be so reckless...
But Cavriel's capture was my fault.
If I hadn't ruined his attack in Flynmoore, it would've never come to this. Even if I had my reasons, it didn't dissolve me of the blame.
I owed him this.
"I'll join you," I murmured.
Sylvos' lips lifted into a soft smile. He took his time approaching me, his fingers brushing my arms and shoulders. Then, gently, he slipped the red gown from me. His touch was careful, as if peeling away flower petals and making a wish with each discarded piece of clothing.
In turn, I helped him out of his garments too. I undid his straps and buckles one by one, letting the pieces fall to the floor.
Fully naked, we slipped into the bath together, the hot water enveloping us in a fragrant cloud of scented oils and steam.
I sat in front of him, completely enveloped by his large body, while he began to wash me slowly.
His touch was so gentle, I simply couldn't believe those same hands committed such horrors. ..
"I can't wait to return to Dornhold," he said quietly, his voice rumbling against my back. "I don't like you living like this. On the road, in tents. You belong in a castle."
I closed my eyes, feeling the heat of the water mix with the warmth spreading in my chest.
"But at least the wall surrendered without much fuss," he continued. "Everything is going as planned. I traveled during spring to reach here, and now, with summer, Driftwoode's river lands will be easier to cross."
This man... He really was born for conquest. Every action he executed had meticulous thought behind it. Like a game of King's Square, there was purpose in every move.
So how did such a man suddenly believe me blindly?
When he never could in any life before?
I shouldn't have asked...
I should have left the matter...
But I just had to know.
"Why did you believe me so easily back there?" I asked. "When they accused me?"
Sylvos went quiet.
Anxious, I turned slightly, glancing back to see his face.
"I don't know..." Sylvos admitted, his black eyes vulnerable. "I just... had this feeling. That I had to believe you. No matter what."
And just like that, the last of my resolve crumbled away.
This Sylvos... This man... He was not the tyrant from my first life. I had been waiting, expecting him to reveal his true nature. But that monster wasn't here. Instead, I had a man who loved me with everything he had.
I can't kill him, I realized.
Yet I can't turn back either.
So, when he leaned down to kiss me, all I could do was close my eyes and kiss him back.
Maybe the reason I could never succeed in any life... Was because I had been going about it the wrong way. Maybe the answer had always been right in front of me.
And maybe I simply needed to take a leap of faith.
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