by M. Dalto
Alex watched him, thinking about the first time she met Treyan. “Almost like a dream, wasn’t it?”
Jared nodded. “Almost...nostalgic.”
She had to smile. That was exactly how she had felt. Such strange magic, this Prophecy of theirs.
“And the language...”
“Lelriera.”
“So that’s what it’s called. I still can’t wrap my head around it.”
“I honestly don’t even notice it anymore; you have it easy. Sara still speaks English around you.”
“You seem to speak it well enough yourself.”
Alex blinked.
Jared chuckled softly. “So much so you don’t even realize you’ve been speaking it since we arrived, during the Council meetings…at Jamison’s. I think the only time I’ve heard you speak English was when you were speaking with Sarayna. And now.”
She thought on that for a moment. “It became second-nature when I discovered that I knew a language I had never heard of before, or ever practiced. That, and when I would speak English and get looks of confusion because they couldn’t understand me, it just became easier to make the switch.”
“Reylor still speaks to you in English?”
Alex’s cheeks flushed at the mention of his name, and she pretended to be distracted by her wine glass a moment longer. “Sometimes. He is...very accommodating.”
Jared nodded slightly as if he noticed every change in her but had the decency to ignore it. For that, Alex decided she approved of the new King Emperor.
As if he was summoned, Reylor strolled into the dining room, holding himself with an air of diplomacy that made Alex instantly think something was wrong.
“Empress. Emperor.” He nodded to each of them respectively as he stood at the end of the dinner table.
“Lord Steward.” Alex smiled, mirroring his formality. “To what do we owe this honor?”
“I was wondering if I could have a word. It will only take a moment.”
“It’s all right,” Jared offered, standing from his chair. “I should find Sarayna anyway, and make sure she’s not...well...being Sarayna.”
“It was a pleasure, Jared. We will have to do this again,” she said sincerely.
“Of course.” He smiled, and it seemed genuine. With a respectful nod to Reylor, Jared left the dining room.
“Sarayna knows...something,” he announced as he walked over to take the seat on Alex’s left.
“That’s very vague, Reylor,” Alex said as she turned to him.
“Did you tell her anything?”
Alex blinked. “No...did you?”
“No.”
“Sara is a smart woman, and very perceptive. Something tells me she knows a lot—”
“I think it’s more than you and me, Alex.” He let out a sigh.
“Would she know about our dealings with Lexan? Is that even possible?” the Empress asked carefully.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to pay him a visit to find out.”
“Now?” Alex asked incredulously. It was much too late for him to leave, even if he was trying to be secretive.
“In the morning,” he assured her. “Right now, I’m going to have a message sent to him to let him know I’ll be waiting at the cabin in the morning. I need to know if he’s tried to contact Sara.”
“What would that matter?” Thoughts of Lexan being anywhere near Sara again made Alex’s stomach drop.
“Part of the agreement I made with him was he wouldn’t,” Reylor informed her sternly. “He’s more than aware of what is on the line if that agreement isn’t kept.”
She watched him for a moment before refilling her wine glass. “How much longer as we going to do this?”
“As long as it takes...I told you that.”
“How long do you think it will take for this Council member to lose his composure? It seems to be a lot of pressure for a mere diplomat.”
“I’m sure he was well aware of what he was getting himself into when he agreed to work with Lexan. Our involvement just sweetened the pot, so to speak, and most likely saved his life.”
She took another sip of wine, debating their position. “Maybe we do tell Sara and Jared...”
“No.”
She arched her brows in question.
“The fewer people who know, the better,” he tried to explain. “We’ll tell her eventually—when she needs to know, but not yet. Let her be ignorant a little bit longer.”
“Until when?” she pleaded. “What are we trying to do?”
Reylor let loose another sigh as he reached over, filling the glass before him with wine.
“We’re trying to save the Empire.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lexan had no problem keeping what transpired between him, his father and his mother during his unexpected trek to the Empire a secret from those in the Borderlands. Even as he was feeling pressure on all sides to move forward, he had, at least for now, convinced them otherwise.
As far as Razen knew, he was scouting the area for their army’s approach when his presence was discovered. The Empire sent an entourage to meet with him, and through his keen negotiating abilities Lexan convinced them to listen to him rather than proceed with their unnecessary attack. Out of fear that more harm would come to those she cared about the most, the Empress agreed to a peaceful surrender.
To maintain his ploy, the Borderlands’ troops waited within the tree line, ordered to stand guard should any unexpected attack arrive from the Empire’s forces.
Lexan knew that that threat would never arrive.
Crystal, however, gave him more cause for concern.
Since his return, she had become more welcoming and far more forgiving of his past actions than she was before he left. Whether it was because of the pregnancy, or if Razen ceased coming to her bed Lexan was uncertain. Either way, in his time gone and away from her, he found that he, too, began enjoying her company once again, and it wasn’t until he took her back into his bed that he realized how much he had, at the least, missed her body.
It was because of that connection he felt he had with her, despite everything, that he decided to tell her about dealing with the Empire—not about his agreement with his parents, but about his spy.
He told her one night, as she allowed him to hold her in his arms, about the plan he had concocted long before it all began. Where he would approach a young noble his scouts and mages assured him would be a prime candidate for the Empire’s new Council. Through him and the promises made, he would be privy to anything that happened within the Empire.
Especially his sister’s return.
But he did not need to let Crystal in on that information.
Or the information that his spy now worked in conjunction with the Empire, and it was Lexan who was reporting back to them.
No, his initial plan was not working out as he intended, but Lexan was ever confident in his ways. Crystal and her inquiries about his plan drove that confidence deeper and made him want to confide in her more.
Unfortunately, he should have been more confident in Crystal’s abilities to keep her mouth shut.
Lexan was reviewing maps and plans of the Empire when Razen stormed into his study, slamming the Annals, the most sacred book of their lands, onto the table in front of him.
“Do you know what that is?” the Councillor snarled at the prince.
“Good morning to you as well,” Lexan greeted him. The look in Razen’s eyes showed anything but amusement.
“That book has controlled the history of the Empire for centuries, and it is now in the possession of the Borderlands, where a new Prophecy is being built, and a new world is being shaped. Do you have any idea how much time, effort, energy and blood has been spilt to get that book into our hands?”
Lexan tried not to look offended. “The last I heard, you merely had to pick it up and bring it to my father’s door. I don’t see how that was much of an effort on your part.”
Razen snarled again. “T
his has been in motion for much longer than you’ve been alive, boy, and I will not have you ruining it by believing you have the ability to plan better than I have.”
“What exactly is in motion, Razen?” Lexan stood from his chair, matching the Councillor eye for eye. “Last I heard we were in the process of recreating the Prophecy to benefit the Borderlands—to make this part of our world something even better than it used to be. Is there something else I should be aware of?”
“There are things at play here far bigger than you—”
“Perhaps you should enlighten me.”
“You will be made aware of what you need to know when the time comes.”
“In the meantime, you will not expect me to sit idle while the Empire remains a threat.”
“It is only a threat because you could not carry through with a simple task.”
“You asked me to fuck my sister!”
“Far worse atrocities have been done for the greater good!”
“You are out of your godsdamned mind!”
At that, Razen just smiled. As if everything Lexan had always assumed about the former Councillor to the Empire was proving true before his very eyes.
“To ensure we are on the same page, Prince, you are merely a placeholder—a pawn—just as your father was, and as your heir will be after you.”
Lexan stiffened at the threat that hung in the air.
“So long as we are in agreement, you will do well to know that I have dispatched an assassin to take care of this spy of yours. I will not have the Empire privy to anything we are doing here or take the chance of your infiltrator being caught and too weak-minded to keep his mouth shut.”
Lexan’s blood ran cold. “You’re sending an assassin to the palace?”
Razen laughed. “Hardly. If I could have done that successfully it would have been taken care of already. No, this will come when your council member least expects it, and no one will be able to hear him scream for help as he dies.”
Lexan swallowed. He never meant to put an innocent in harm’s way, even when they were aware of the potential consequences. Not like this.
Razen tapped a finger on the cover of the Annals before him, and the prince swore the book emanated with a red glow at his touch.
“This book is worth more than your existence. I will have no qualms about sacrificing the Son of the Borderlands to keep it in my possession.”
He picked the book back up, cradling it in his arms as he stared at Lexan, his fury as strong as it was when he entered the room.
“Be grateful your wife has a loose tongue in the bedroom, or else I would never have known about this little mishap.”
That fire—the fury Lexan thought he had grown numb to after all this time—began to surge through him once again. His hands clenched at his sides as he dared take a step forward. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing more than she asked for—that she begged for.” His smirk was genuinely evil.
“Leave her alone.”
“No—that is not your decision to make, Prince. She can make her own decisions as she sees fit.”
“She is my wife! She is the Empress of the Borderlands, and she is carrying the Heir—my heir.”
“That heir is the only thing keeping her alive right now.”
Lexan stopped in his tracks.
“It will do you well to remember that, Lexan, when you are thinking of planning on doing anything that goes against my orders.”
“Are you threatening me?” Lexan could barely whisper.
“You, Crystal, your unborn child—your heir’s fate depends on your choices alone.” Razen smirked.
Lexan was frozen where he stood, all color draining from his face.
Razen kept his smug expression plastered on his face as he nodded in dismissal. “Enjoy the rest of your existence, my prince.”
The green glow from the orb cast the only light in Lexan’s study.
“We will meet in the morning,” his father’s voice commanded from the other side.
“No, we have to meet now—there won’t be time come morning.”
“There will be no way to get out at this time of night—for either of us.”
“What we need to discuss is of the utmost importance and cannot wait.” Lexan hesitated for only a moment. “Leave now—and bring the Council member.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Symon knew he was in too deep when the Lord Steward roused him from his slumber in the middle of the night. He had taken his chances with the Prince from the Borderlands, but once Lord Reylor knew of his real identity, he was certain he was done for.
They traveled in silence from the palace, on foot beyond the nearest village to where two horses waited for them, and then rode the rest of the way. The quiet allowed him plenty of time to think about his predicament.
Symon was the son of a lord in one of the furthest cities from the Empire. Threats from the Borderlands were always greatest where he lived, and there was always a bitterness towards the royal family sitting safely within the palace. They never sent extra aid or understood the constant guarding and protecting his family had to do for them. When word came to them that the Queen Empress had returned and the royals were looking to rebuild the Council, his father and Symon both agreed he would travel to the palace and stake his claim as a representative to those on the outskirts whose voices needed to be heard.
Someone else, however, thought their voice needed to be heard as well.
He was on his way to the palace with his guards when, in the middle of the night, Symon felt the need to relieve himself. He ended up a decent distance from their camp, immersed in the dark. He didn’t know how long Prince Lexan had been following him—he didn’t even want to know how he knew who he was—but the prince was insistent that Symon become a member of the Empire’s Council and gave him the orb by which he would communicate with him. There was no threat to his immediate person, but the insinuation of what would happen if Symon did not assist him was enough to convince the young lordling that it would be in his best interest to assist the prince.
So long as he wasn’t caught.
He had always sensed Lord Reylor’s eyes watching him at the Council meetings from the moment he would walk through the door until the time he left. Symon tried not to let it affect him, tried to convince himself that he was equally assessing every new member of the Council for the best of the Empire. He conducted himself as he normally would, and soon found that his position was exactly what he wanted—what he needed to help his lands.
It all crashed down the night Princess Sarayna returned to the Empire.
Now, here he was, riding out from the palace with the Lord Steward to an undisclosed location with only his own cape upon his back. He wondered if Lord Reylor had found out, and if so, how long ago. Had he known since his arrival? But then that would mean he allowed him to become a council member even with his ill intentions.
If that was the case, was Lord Reylor still in league with the Borderlands?
That was one of the items Prince Lexan had asked him to monitor, but there had been no outward signs of that allegiance. Quite the opposite, truth be told, for the intimate relationship between the Lord Steward and Queen Empress was rumored throughout the palace, and hard to ignore.
He did not disclose that to Prince Lexan either.
The young Council member kept his eyes on the ground as he was forced to move deeper into the Empire, shadowed by the moonlight shining through the trees overhead. Every now and again, however, Symon would dare a glance towards the Lord Steward, who in turn would meet his eye. Instead of asking the important questions about their whereabouts or their destination, Symon would avert his eyes once again, still uncertain as to where they were headed, and too nervous to ask.
How does one strike up a conversation with the Betrayer to the Empire, former or not?
“You want to know what’s going to happen to you now, don’t you?”
The Lord Steward’s voice e
choed through the trees, as if he didn’t care they were traveling under the cover of night.
Symon swallowed, trying to keep his voice level. “It would be an ideal bit of information to know whether or not my life is going to end in an untimely manner, my lord.”
“How your life ends will depend entirely on you.”
Symon didn’t say anything—he didn’t know how to respond.
“I am well aware of your connection to Lexan, that you have been communicating with him concerning the comings and goings on within the Empire. I commend you on your efforts—no one else suspected.”
Symon felt all the blood rush from his face, and his palms began to sweat where he held the horse’s harness.
“Lexan is well aware of my discovery of you.”
The panic began to sink in as Symon looked around him, at the dark woods in the dead of night with only their horses to witness the misdeeds of his doing. “Please,” he stammered. “Whatever it is you want, I will do it. Just please...don’t kill me.”
His pleas caught Reylor’s attention with a glare of his red eyes, but the Lord Steward quickly returned his attention to the path ahead of them.
“I am not going to kill you, but that does not mean your life is not in jeopardy.”
That was all he said as they continued through the darkness of the Empire. Symon didn’t know what to expect. Why didn’t he just jump from his horse and take his chances with the fall? He knew the outcome would be far worse than what he was currently enduring. Reylor would catch him and he would die in any attempt at escaping. The last thing he would want would be for his family to discover he was not only a traitor, but a coward as well.
He didn’t know which was worse.
After what felt like an hour, they emerged from the cover of the forest and came upon a dark cabin within viewing distance of the tree line between the Empire and the Borderlands.
From where Symon sat upon his horse, he could see a dim light shining from the cabin’s main window, which made him believe someone was inside. He prayed the inhabitants would vacate, for he was uncertain what Lord Reylor was capable of these days, especially when provoked.