Page 153 of The Call of Crimson
Something in the way he words his answers catches my attention, though. He’s answering her, but saying so much more that I can’t decipher.
“What aren’t you telling us?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest.
Outwardly, nothing about his posture changes. Internally, however, his heartbeat quickens, telling me I’m on to something.
“Now is not the time to lie.” My eyes narrow. “I think there’s been enough of that in this family.”
His jaw clenches, the moments ticking by in silence.
With a heavy sigh, he admits, “Much like your own court, I suspect, no, I know, there are eyes and ears reporting to an enemy.”
“You mean the Fae,” I say bluntly.
Ayden gives a curt nod, then continues, “There is far more going on here than either of you realizes, and I’m risking everything by telling you even this. I have valid reasons for wanting to wed you, Breyla.”
A low growl vibrates my chest at that admission.
One that he pointedly ignores before adding, “More than just your brilliant mind, beauty, and heart.”
“So where do we go from here?” Breyla asks.
Ayden’s brow furrows, and his eyes narrow just a sliver. “You twodon’t go anywhere. You,” he says, pointing to me, “will be assigned duties to familiarize yourself with the kingdom, its citizens, and politics. It will keep you busy and away from the castle for the foreseeable future.”
I swear a molar cracks with how hard I clench my jaw.
“And you, Breyla, will be taking more interest in the kingdom you are to rule from within the castle. You will attend council meetings and war strategy sessions. You will assist my mother and sister with winter solstice preparations, and you will continue your training with me.”
“Is that all?” Breyla grits out.
“Oh, and you’ll be sleeping inmychambers moving forward.”
His statement lacks the smug satisfaction I’ve come to expect from my brother.
“Absolutely not,” I growl at the same time that Breyla says, “The fuck I will.”
“I’m sorry, Princess, but you’ve lost your say in the matter,” he replies, taking hold of her by the arm to lead her out. “And you never had any say to begin with,” he says to me as he opens the door.
I don’t bother hiding the ire in my voice when I say, “You’re a godsdamned prick, Ayden.”
Much to my dismay, he doesn’t respond to my goading. “Good night, brother. I will send you your itinerary in the morning.”
And with that, they’re gone. I’m left standing alone in my room, a sense of dread filling my gut. Dread and longing for the female who has wound herself entirely around my soul.
Smoke fills the air as battle cries ring out around me. The clashing of metal against metal and metal against flesh forms a medley of fear and confusion.
To my right is a canvas tent, soldiers streaming out, weapons raised. On my left, an abandoned campfire, the large kettle still boiling and forgotten.
“Lord Aurelius?” a familiar yet grating voice calls.
General Darian.
“What are you doing here?” he shouts over the roar of battle.
WhatamI doing here? I honestly don’t know. The last thing I remember was falling asleep after Ayden dragged Breyla from my arms.
“Actually, I don’t care.” He shoves a sword into my hand. “We’re under attack. Be useful and go kill something.”
There’s no time to question, so I take his lead, following the stream of soldiers to the heart of the conflict.
