by M. Dalto
Chapter Sixteen
“You’re not coming with me.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Lexan informed his wife as he saddled his horse in the castle’s stables. “You’re staying behind.”
Crystal had already dressed in her riding leathers and had a gloved hand on the reigns of his horse. “Are you out of your mind?”
“He does have a point, Empress,” Razen reluctantly agreed, approaching them slowly. He, too, had his riding leathers on, as though he expected to leave with the prince as well.
“You are staying with her,” Lexan said flatly, paying no more attention to the Councillor than he had his wife.
He could feel the glare burning into the back of his neck and turned from his horse to meet Razen’s stare.
“Someone needs to protect the Empress at all costs,” he attempted to explain. “I trust no one else with her safety more than you.”
The words themselves brought bile to his throat, and for a moment he wondered if Razen saw through the lies as he glanced between Crystal and the prince. “My prince...” He began, but Lexan quickly cut him off.
“The Annals cannot be left unattended. It would be extremely detrimental to our Prophecy if they again fell into the wrong hands. We both know the Empire will do anything it can to get back what they believe is rightfully theirs.”
Razen watched him, as though calculating Lexan’s ulterior motives. As if he had any. If Razen had any, saying no to Lexan after he gave him perfect examples as to why he needed to stay behind would surely give away any plans he and Crystal may have been making behind his back. With one last, assessing look, Razen merely bowed his head to his prince. “Of course.”
“What?” Crystal turned her fury towards Razen, who shrugged against her wrath.
“Prince Lexan is correct. We do not want to leave the Annals unguarded while we attack; it will make our attempts pointless if the Empire retrieves the book. The last thing we want is you here, alone, should that attack come.” He bowed to her slightly, and the blatant meaning of his intentions were as plain as day. “I would never allow anything to happen to you, Empress.”
Crystal fell for it, Lexan mused silently as he watched the exchange, and for once he was grateful for their unfaithfulness. Crystal barely gave him a glance as she trudged back through the stables into the safety of the castle, and he watched her leave without remorse.
Razen at least had the decency to bow before leaving, and Lexan merely nodded as he watched him follow after the Empress.
Letting loose a sigh, Lexan checked the straps on his horses saddle one last time before climbing up and riding out to meet his troops.
Lexan’s instructions to his men were simple.
They were to stay where he told them to wait. The mile-wide overgrown area that spanned the distance of the boundary line between the Empire and the Borderlands, was not necessarily a neutral territory, but it was known that the Empire feared it, and rarely sent patrols into the tree line, but instead sent scouts along its borders.
Lexan had no time for such superstitions.
The troops would keep hidden until the time was right. When that time would be, Lexan had yet to decide, but they would camp, and be prepared, and none of the troops would question an order from their prince.
As for Lexan, he would proceed into the Empire’s lands undetected, if the intel from his sources was correct. He had gone through excruciating lengths to infiltrate the palace, and it all led to this moment.
His horse galloped smoothly through the empty fields. It was a straight shot from the tree line towards his destination—Bria’s old abandoned cabin.
It was unused and abandoned, he was informed, for no one dared make claim to the traitorous Mistress’ belongings. If it were not for Bria, Lexan wouldn’t be in the position he was in, and part of him believed that to be both a blessing and a curse.
He remembered Bria fondly. She was like a mother to him, in some ways, but his father always made sure Lexan knew who his real mother was. The way Reylor talked about her—no, there was never animosity towards her, never an insinuation that she was the enemy.
It was always Treyan and the Empire.
Never Alexstrayna.
Which is why Lexan would never blame his father for following her.
Lexan would have undoubtedly done the same, if he had been in the same position.
The Annals had already been signed, and his purpose predetermined before he was born, as had all their futures. He was now sworn to the Borderlands, as would his heirs forever after him. The divide had been made, and there was no going back once the threads of fate were set in motion.
With the Empire’s Crown Prince dead, and Sarayna without the experience needed to defend her own lands, Lexan knew it would be simple—he hoped, deep down, he would be able to convince them to peacefully surrender without any bloodshed.
Lexan could at least do that for them.
As for Razen, he was not so certain.
That was why he decided, on his own, to make the trek to the cabin before his troops.
He told them he would scout the area, see what he could confirm before allowing them to travel further, but in actuality, he needed to try to get to the palace first, to convince them to allow the Borderlands in, for their own good.
He would be halfway to the palace before they even knew he was gone.
In the light of the suns, the cabin stood out as a shadow upon the land. Lexan shivered, even though the evening air was balmy. He would only stay the night, he told himself. It was all he could afford.
The windows were dark as he approached, which was as he expected. Jumping down from his horse, he tied it up along the back of the cabin where remnants of a fire circle faced the tree line. He remembered the last time he had been to this cabin when he had used the Key of his own making and brought Crystal back with him. It had been a gamble, but it had worked.
Or so he thought.
Pushing the door open with his shoulder, he entered and dropped his saddle bags on the floor after shutting the door behind him. The cabin was dark and damp, but nothing a few well-placed candles wouldn’t solve, he decided as he started rummaging through his bags, grabbing the sticks and starters to light his way for the night. Not too many—he didn’t want anyone to know he was there, but one or two would suffice.
Placing the stick on the table in the middle of the room, he struck the starter once, twice, until it flared, igniting the candle with its flame.
Lexan looked up to observe his surroundings...
And almost knocked the candle over as he jumped away.
For there, sitting with his legs propped up on the table, his attention focused on the knife he ran underneath his fingernails, sat his father.
“I was wondering when you would show up.”
Chapter Seventeen
Lexan’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched his father where he sat, lounging at the table. “What are you doing here?” he was eventually able to gasp out.
“I suppose I should be asking you the same thing,” Reylor countered, his red stare finally looking up to his son.
Lexan stood up straighter. “I don’t need to explain myself to you any longer. Not after you left.” Lexan could hear the waver in his own voice.
As could Reylor.
Smiling, he brought his legs down and braced his arms against the table. “You’re a grown man, Lexan—I can’t be expected to hold your hand forever.”
“Which would be fine if you didn’t let it go to join our enemy.”
His father’s countenance darkened at his insinuation. “Your mother is not the enemy.”
Lexan knew he was right, but he strengthened his resolve. “I wish we all shared that sentiment, Father. Unfortunately that is not the case.” He moved to take the chair across from Reylor, letting out a sigh. “Why are you here?” Lexan repeated.
“I know about your infiltrator.”
Lexan couldn’t have s
uppressed the shock on his face if he tried. He had gone to great lengths to hand-pick his spy, and even more to keep him a secret—not only from the Empire, but from Razen and Crystal as well. “How?” he rasped incredulously, knowing his eyes were wide in the candlelight.
Reylor perked a brow. “I’ve been playing this game since before you were born.”
Lexan didn’t need him to explain further.
“I commend you on your choice, however,” he applauded his son as his gaze returned to the dagger in his hand. “The man is extremely ambitious and would have done well for the Council’s Empire.”
“What are you going to do to him?” Lexan panicked; the last thing he wanted was sign another death decree.
“Nothing...yet,” Reylor assured him.
Lexan gave him a quizzical look.
“In fact,” Reylor mused, “I appreciated your efforts to infiltrate our meetings so much that I allowed him to be appointed, even after I knew he was your spy. Your mother doesn’t know—yet—but she’s been through enough lately as it is...” He gave a lazy shrug of his shoulders.
Lexan’s jaw dropped.
The look on Reylor’s face turned serious, and he leaned closer to him across the table. “Why are your troops waiting along the tree line, Lexan?”
The only one within the Empire that could weaken his resolve was his father, but Lexan leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed against his chest. “Preparing to attack—you knew this was coming.”
“Indeed, but why are they there, and you are here...alone?”
Lexan remained silent.
His father peered at him, then stood from the table. “How are things at home?” Reylor mused as he made his trek around the cabin.
“Fine,” was all the Prince of the Borderlands allowed as an answer. Things were not fine—far from it, but his father was no longer a necessary party to that knowledge.
The dagger came out of nowhere as it stuck into the table before him, the point deep within the wood as the blade shook from the reverberation of the impact.
Lexan slowly raised his eyes from the knife to those of his father, and swore they glowed red in the cabin’s dim lighting.
“Enough of these games,” Reylor growled from where he stood. “Tell me why you are here.”
The prince swallowed. “I was planning on visiting the palace—”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“—and request that you, Mother—” Lexan cleared this throat. “The Empress—and Sara…the Crown Princess, surrender to the Borderlands.”
Reylor let out a laugh—a pure unrestrained laugh, and Lexan felt his cheeks flush with a building rage as his father mocked him.
The Lord Steward of the Empire folded his arms and leaned against the wall as he assessed his son. “Did you honestly think that you’d be able to get anywhere near the palace undetected?”
“I have my ways—”
“No, you don’t,” his father countered. “In fact, something tells me you’ve already considered walking straight up to the front gates to demand to see the Empress and believed your mother would have welcomed you in with open arms.”
“It has been a while since we talked.” He smirked slightly with faked confidence.
Reylor scoffed.
As for what Lexan had planned on doing once he arrived at the palace, even he wasn’t entirely sure, but his father didn’t need to know that.
“How is she?” he finally asked carefully.
For a moment, something softer graced his father’s features, but it disappeared the second Reylor looked away from his son’s questioning stare. “She’s healing. She has had a lot to deal with since...” The Lord Steward trailed off without completing the thought.
Since Treyan was killed. By Razen.
Lexan tried to find it in his heart to feel bad, maybe even guilty, but it was Treyan who kept his mother away, and it was Treyan who banished his father to the Borderlands in the first place. As far as Lexan was concerned, Treyan’s demise was the best thing to happen to the Empire.
And his mother.
“What about Sarayna?” Lexan asked quietly, but the stare his father gave him as his head whipped up at the sound of his sister’s name had Lexan paling.
Reylor had him jumping out of his chair and backing up until the wall hit his back as he stalked towards him, nothing short of pure unadulterated hatred in his eyes. “You do not get to ask about your sister, especially after what you tried to do to her,” he snarled, his face inches from his son’s.
“You were there!” Lexan countered. “You agreed with him!”
“I did no such thing, and I had hoped you had the sense to see through the treachery when it was dangled right before your eyes!”
“Because you were so good at not being manipulated.”
“This isn’t about me!” Reylor snapped. “This is about the horrors you almost committed, and how your mother—your sister—have to live with it!”
“I’m...I’m sorry,” Lexan stammered truthfully.
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”
“If I could, I would...”
“Well, I suppose that it’s time we change that.”
Lexan cocked his head slightly. “What do you mean?”
Reylor took a step away from his son. “I mean we’re going to have you visit your mother after all.”
“How?”
Reylor motioned back to the table where they had been sitting and took his chair again. Lexan, cautious of another outburst, kept his eyes on his father as he, too, sat back down.
“We’re going to mutually agree to help each other, and in doing so, no one gets hurt.”
“You’re threatening me?”
“And your spy.”
Lexan swallowed. He didn’t want anyone to be hurt because of him—not again. Of course, choosing to infiltrate the Council’s meetings was risky, but he never expected anyone to be hurt because of it. If Razen caught wind of anything...
“The Borderlands will not negotiate with the Empire.”
“No, but its prince will listen to his father. As well as his mother.”
Lexan’s eyes widened.
“You wanted to come to the palace, fine—you will come to the palace with me. You will sit down with all of us and plead your case and give us a reason why we shouldn’t hold you hostage.”
Lexan had to roll his eyes at that. He highly doubted anyone from the Borderlands would risk their lives for him these days.
“Only then, you will become our spy in the Borderlands.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“No. I am not,” Reylor retorted flatly. “If you prefer, I can bring you back to the palace and leave you in the dungeons to rot? Because that’s where this is about to lead.”
He didn’t doubt his father one bit.
“Your intentions were to come to the palace asking for our surrender—we will maintain that facade. You, Lexan...you are going to help us with a much greater cause.”
He was almost afraid to ask. “What cause is that?”
Reylor’s red eyes almost seemed to sparkle in the candlelight.
“You’re going to help us bring the Annals back to the Empire.”
Chapter Eighteen
The walk to Jamison’s cabin was short enough from the palace that it could be done on foot rather than horseback. Alex had made the trek plenty of times herself, so she had no problem finding her way there again as the suns shone a dusty rose upon the Empire. With Reylor keeping himself occupied doing whatever it was he was going to do while they were out, Alex had a moment’s reprise from the Lord Steward.
She knew it would be hard for Sarayna to accept. The last time she had seen her daughter, Alex was mourning the loss of her husband, but Treyan was dead, and life carried on...
Sarayna had moved on herself, it seemed, as she walked a few paces in front of Alex with her Emperor on her arm.
Alex was still curious about Jared and hoped
that the evening’s dinner would enlighten her some. If she could get beyond the deadly stares her daughter kept throwing her way.
Even as they walked, Sarayna would glance back at her, and the unhappy expressions tossed in her direction had Alex feeling her daughter would have much rather she wasn’t joining them for dinner.
Jared had the foresight to stay out of it and was kind towards the Empress. Alex commended him for not choosing sides.
They had trudged through the gardens towards the main road from the palace, and Alex was slightly taken aback by their tending. Someone was seeing to it that those rose bushes continued to grow with the beauty they once possessed, and Alex had an inclination as to who it may have been.
She wrapped her arms around herself as she shivered.
Alex walked in silence as they rounded the side of the palace towards the quiet road that would lead them to the nearest village where Jamison lived, as did most of the palace’s guards, workers, and their families. Treyan and Jamison were the best of friends and it was Jamison that Treyan trusted more than anyone else in the Empire.
Through his relationship with Jamison, Mallia came to be in Alex’s employ.
Now it seemed as though it was Jamison who felt the need to take Treyan’s place, or perhaps who believed Alex should replace Mallia.
She shook her head in silent debate, even as she assessed her recent interactions with Jamison. Her was a friend, nothing more, and he knew better than to think otherwise She was the Queen Empress, and he was the Captain of the Guard...
They were upon the village before they knew it, and Sara and Jared hung back once they reached the main center to allow Alex to lead them to Jamison’s home.
Yes, she remembered the last time she was there. She was with Treyan and Reylor. They were all coming back to retrieve Sarayna after they had just buried Bria. Alex was...
She let out a breath and continued walking.
The past was the past, and ghosts, even those of the unborn, needed to lay where they rested.
