Chapter Twenty-Two - The Traitor’s Truth #2
“If you were such a good friend of my father, then why are you alive? Why are you still a member of this court,” she said in a low threatening tone, “why was your head not on a spike alongside my brothers?”
One of the sons stepped forward but Lord Darnwell held up a hand.
“These are good questions,” said Lord Darnwell softly, “but time is of the essence Lady Valehart so I will answer them briefly. I am alive because your father knew that should his endeavour fail, he would need someone to watch over his family.”
“Watch over?” she scoffed, “half of my family is dead.”
Lord Darnwell winced and again one of his sons stepped forward but he again waved them away, “it has been difficult to get close to you. To any of you. The king’s men moved quickly, the best we could do was ensure the safety of you and your sister in Kilgavie.”
So that was who the estate had belonged too.
Lord Darnwell. She had always wondered who owned that decrepit house.
That was, if she could believe him. This could be a trick, a test of her loyalty by one of the brothers, their wives.
But there was something familiar about the man, she had seen him before.
The more she looked at him, the more recognisable he became.
A memory of a man frequently visiting her father, the two of them spending long hours in his office, pouring over papers as Rosamund would bring them refreshments and try to glance at what they were working on.
He must have seen the recognition in her eyes as he said, “as I say, your father and I worked closely for many years.”
“To betray the king.”
“To save Valdyr,” insisted Lord Darnwell, “to right a great wrong, many great wrongs.”
“What wrongs?” asked Rosamund.
“I do not have time to explain.”
“Try,” pleaded Rosamund, “you’re asking me to trust you, well trust me. Tell me what wrongs you and my father sought to rectify.”
Lord Darnwell regarded her, and one of the sons spoke up “and how do we know that you haven’t been turned Lady Valehart? You looked very comfortable on that Royal Balcony.”
“Leoric,” chastised Lord Darnwell, but Rosamund was already on her feet and crossing over to the taller man.
“Comfortable,” she hissed at him, “You think it was comfortable being betrothed to the Prince of Death against my will? Do you think it was comfortable watching my cousin hang? Do you think it was comfortable wondering if each misstep I made would be the end of me? That I too might find myself with my head upon a spike, or perhaps hanging in a tree for the amusement of others? Do you think that would be comfortable?”
To her surprise the man took a few steps away from her as she shook with rage, her hands balling into fists at her side.
Though, she knew that some of the rage she felt was ar herself.
She had not been comfortable, but she had come to like some of the very same people that watched her father die.
She knew that her feelings towards Dorian were changing, deepening.
Was he not one of them? No, she was not comfortable, but there was still a part of her that heard the truth in what Leoric had said.
Had she been turned? Had she betrayed her family?
“Of course it hasn’t,” said Lord Darnwell softly, “but I had no doubt that you would survive. You are your father’s daughter, in every way. I knew that you would endure.”
She slowly turned to face him, “I know this is a lot to take in. And I know you have no reason to trust me. But all I am asking for now is that you listen, after which, you can decide what to do.”
His sons shared a glance, she ignored them, and crossed over to the old man and sat beside him. He let out a sigh, “thank you.”
“What did father do?” she asked quietly.
It looked like Lord Darnwell was going to resist again, “your father sought to remove a corruption that had entered the royal household. For many years now House Mordane has abused the Elixir of Liathern.”
Rosamund’s eyes widened, “so it’s true. He did steal it.”
Lord Darnwell winced, but nodded his head, “that is part of it, but not all. It is…difficult to explain.”
A pit opened in her stomach, and it felt like she was falling. He did it. He had stolen the sacred Elixir.
“Did he try to burn the Baurnhof too?”
“Yes,” said Lord Darnwell, “though, again, it’s…complicated.”
“But why,” she cried, “it was his life’s work, why would he wish to burn it?”
“There is too much to go into right now.”
“You keep saying that, but you don’t tell me why,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Your brothers are in danger,” said Lord Darnwell.
The pit widened.
They’re alive. My brothers are alive.
“What?” she gasped.
“Roland, Tristan, they are in danger,” repeated Lord Darnwell.
“My, my betrothal kept them safe,” said Rosamund lamely, “my, my marriage to Prince Dorian will keep them safe.”
The old man shook his head, “your marriage will end their lives. They will no longer serve their purpose, and House Mordane will have a new Valehart to keep captive.”
She stood up, “no, no that’s not possible. That’s not what was agreed.”
Lord Darnwell gave her a disappointed look as she paced in front of him, “And how have House Mordane’s promises held up so far? Was your cousin Todric not supposed to be released to your aunt?”
“Don’t you dare mention his name,” she hissed, her hands on her hips as she continued to pace.
He held up his hand, “I was devastated at his loss. I mention it now only to show you what comes of trusting these people.”
It was true, her aunts had made an agreement, and Bastian had killed him anyway. Who was to say the same was not true for her brothers. Would Bastian do it again?
Yes.
Would the others?
Cedric, Lavinia, Seraphine, Luceran…
Dorian?
She hesitated.
Rosamund turned to face Lord Darnwell.
“I have…allies. People I trust,” she said, her breath becoming more ragged as she desperately tried to keep her emotions in check.
“Rosamund, you cannot trust-” Lord Darnwell started to say again but she interrupted.
“They have been kind to me. They have helped me. Let me speak with them, let me see what can be done to-”
Lord Darnwell rose to his feet, “you cannot!” she staggered backwards at his shout, at the pleading look in his face, “you cannot. Whatever allies you think you have Lady Rosamund, trust me, they would sooner see your head on the block than their own. They have all drank of the Elixir, the corruption is already within them, you cannot trust them.”
Elswyth. Emrys. Marianne.
Dorian.
Had they all drunk it? She did not know.
They had been kind to her, helped her, but deep down, could she really trust them?
They were all House Mordane, all members of the house that had seen her father and her brother executed.
Had she been blinded? Had she been distracted by warm lessons, friendly discussions and a glittering district.
With a stab in her heart, she thought of Dorian.
After all they had agreed, their mutually assured destruction and what she could not deny were her growing feelings.
Was this all a distraction from the reason that she had come here? To save her brothers.
To avenge her father.
She steeled herself, and met Lord Darnwell’s gaze, “then, what do you suggest?”
Lord Darnwell approached her and gently took her hands in his, “We get them out of the Onyx tower.”
Rosamund looked at him in disbelief, “how?”
“Leave that to us, plans are already in motion, but we will require your help in one small way.”
“Anything,” she said as she grasped his hand, “tell me.”