Page 129 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

Too bad he did not yet know Emillie would not be marrying a man at all if given any choice in the matter.

As their conversation found its natural conclusion, the four friends turned their attention back to their food. They ate in silence for a moment before Emillie reached between them and took her hand, squeezing once.

“I will miss you,” she said softly without looking over. Ariadne knew without seeing that her eyes would be filled with tears. “A lot.”

She squeezed back. “I will miss you as well.”

Camilla and Revelie picked up a conversation on other matters to give them privacy. Leave it to their friends to be more intuitive than anyone else at the table.

“Will I see you again before you leave?” Emillie stared into her teacup before taking a sip.

“Come for dinner,” Ariadne said, still holding firm on her sister’s hand. “The night before we leave.”

When Emillie finally looked to her, eyes rimmed silver, she smiled sadly and nodded once. After a century and a half together, they had never been separated long. Only once prior to this were they apart, and that had been a time of fear for them both.

This time would be different.

The highway through Laeton bustled with Caersans moving from manor to manor each night. After the first ball held at his parents’ home, Loren joined his soldiers along the road to oversee the travel and ensure safe passage to the vampires. While his provisional leave continued, the dhemons remained close to the capital of Valenul and therefore created an unseen threat to any vampire too reckless. The Rusan soldiers with enough mortal blood to allow them into the sun would take over the watch upon the rise of the morning sun.

Although most soldiers continued to look to him as their General, others maintained their distance. He did not blame them for it. The face-off with that half-breed bastard had tainted his image to the public. Perhaps their parents wished for them to remain neutral. Still, the longer it took for the Council to decide on his position, the more soldiers returned to him.

With enough support from his men, Loren could regain his position by force rather than through the muddy channels of politics if needed.

The one friend he could count on from the very beginning of it all, however, was Captain Nikolai Jensen. The Caersan stood by him and provided the intel from officer debriefs to continue his work.

Carriages passed Loren on his stallion at a decent enough clip going in either direction of the highway. Lord Moone nodded to him through the window as he passed, and Councilman Locke saluted on his way to the next ball. Meanwhile, Councilman Theobald merely glared before averting his attention back to the road. The delineation between Provinces had never been more clear. The north versus the east with their Lord Governors at odds.

When the evening turned to midnight, Loren finally saw her. His heart hammered against his ribs as Ariadne passed in her carriage, moving at an amble.

Her dark curls swept over her far shoulder, exposing the two small healing spots on her throat—the mark of another man’s fangs taking from her neck. She smiled at the person across from her. No, not person. The bastard-born thief who poisoned her mind against him and then sullied her by taking her to his bed.

As they drew nearer, her gaze flickered out the window and connected with Loren’s. Those beautiful ocean eyes widened slightly, and her lips parted. Damn him, he would still have her, no matter what. He would save her from the filthy half-breed and raise her back to the pedestal where she belonged.

Loren inclined his head to her, a hand laid over his heart.

She looked away, color rising to her cheeks, and he smirked as they trundled past. The view shifted from Ariadne to Azriel. The false Lord Governor did not smile. He merely stared back, expressionless. No cocky quirk of his lips or threatening glint in his eye. The bastard only stared.

Before the year was out, Loren vowed to put an end to that man’s rule.

The past weeks without his usual duties as General provided him the time to continue digging into anything to use against the bastard. Of what he could find, the most damning had been the purer lineage of his cousin, Madan. The vampire had been born a true Caersan and should have, by all accounts, taken the title of Lord Governor long before Azriel had been considered.

Proving this before the Council would be pertinent. Though he knew his father, Lord Governor Damen Gard of Notten Province, would back his findings, he had yet to share anything with his family. After his drunken outburst at the ball, they had also been treated with less respect. His actions had put shame on himself and his parents.

The meager response to their invites for Soltium underscored their ostracism.

Now Loren would do everything in his power to set things right. The first step would be to provide evidence of his accusations, so they needed to be foolproof.

Not long after the Caldwell carriage passed, Nikolai rode down the highway and came to a halt beside Loren. They waited for any listening ears to pass before so much as nodding in greeting.

“What did you learn?” Loren kept his voice low. Though he had not intended on sending Nikolai to the Dodd Estate for Soltium, their invitation as a way to encourage a suitable relationship between the Captain and Camilla Dodd had been too good to pass up. Eyes and ears behind enemy lines always proved useful.

Nikolai watched a young, low-ranking Caersan man gallop by. “They depart Laeton in a week’s time.”

Loren’s stomach knotted. No. If they left, he could not free Ariadne from the bastard’s hold. “We must find a way to keep them here.”

The Captain shook his head with a frown. “I do not understand, General. Why is she so important to you? She is married—unchaste now—and yet you still wish to find a way to wed her. Why not her sister?”

“Believe you me,” Loren growled at the intrusive thoughts of Ariadne opening her legs to that half-breed, “if all else fails, I will have Miss Harlow instead.”

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