Page 35 of Love of the Bladed Dove
“Sir Charles, My Lady. He betrayed your family. We didn’t know it at first—none of us did. But after the siege began, pieces started falling into place. He manipulated the guard deployments. Moved men away from key posts. And worse… we found the documents later. Signed orders. An official seal granting Bartorian envoys access to the royal ball.” He exhaled, shame heavy in his voice. “They didn’t crash the gates—they were invited in. Once inside, they sealed the castle from within. We—your remaining loyal guard—held the city and villages as best we could, waiting for a signal. But we couldn’t breach the walls.”
Layla closed her eyes, jaw clenched.Sir Charles. Her father’s closest confidant. A man she’d known since childhood. Trusted like family. He actually did do what that Bartorian had said.
“And how are you here now?” she asked coldly.
“When the Antonin warriors attacked the inner castle, chaos broke loose inside,” Sir Edwin said, his voice measured. “In the confusion, the Bartorian guard made a fatal error. They rerouted forces inward, abandoning their hold on the gate to reinforce the throne hall.”
He looked up at her, pride simmering behind the exhaustion in his eyes. “That was our moment. We were ready. We’d been watching. Waiting. We seized the gate the moment it was left exposed—we planned to take it back in King Aiddeon’s name, My Lady.”
Layla took a breath, forcing the emotions to stay down. She heard what she needed to know. “Place guards on this room. I want updates every hour on the city’s borders. And I want a strike team ready within the day. We leave for Bartoria to retrieve my sisters.”
Sir Edwin stiffened, clearly surprised by the last order. “Of course, My Lady. I’ll gather our best men.” He bowed again.
“Sir Edwin?” Layla added gently, stopping him before he turned away.
“Yes, My Lady?”
“Our men valiantly defended our people. Thank you. My father would have been proud.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth before he bowed once more and stepped out. He gestured to someone in the hall, and moments later, a man entered.
“This is Dr. Aldren, the Graystonian physician,” Edwin announced. “May he examine the queen?” Layla nodded and stepped aside. She remembered Dr. Aldren from his many years treating at the castle and nearby cities. He was a good man and trusted physician. Layla released a small breath at the sight of him here to help her mother.
“Princess,” Dr. Aldren said softly, “I must ask for the room.” Reluctantly, Layla abided.
As they leaned against the stone wall in silence. Layla's thoughts spun out like threads, too many to follow. So she tried to anchor to just one. “Why did you help me?” she asked suddenly, glancing up at Kain just beside her.
Kain kept his eyes closed but smiled faintly. “Does there have to be a reason?”
“There’s always a reason,” she muttered. “Some ploy I haven’t seen yet, probably.”
“Probably,” he echoed, the grin widening. Layla just shook her head and the silence returned.
Eventually, Dr. Aldren somberly opened the door. “My Lady…” he said carefully, “I bring grave news. The queen has been brutally beaten, and…” he looked down, clearly ashamed of what he was having to report. “She was assaulted, likely more than once. She’ll live, but she needs rest, and time.”
Layla stood momentarily frozen before darting past him, her knees buckling as she collapsed beside her mother, clutching her chest as the tears finally broke free.
Raynera Eradellian had never been a warm mother. She believed in honor, tradition, and sacrifice. That women were raised to birth kings—not rule as one. She had been her husband's right hand, his quiet shadow. To the world, she was beauty and grace. To her daughters, she was steel. But even steel could break.
Layla wept for the mother who never coddled her, never whispered “I love you,” yet always stood tall as an example of duty, pride, and unwavering grace.How couldanyone hurt her like this?
After some time, Layla lifted her head, wiping her tears. Her eyes drifted to Kain, now shirtless, sitting backward on a chair as the doctor stitched the arrow wounds on his back. His muscles were taut with pain, his jaw clenched. Despite everything, a sense of gratitude welled in Layla’s chest. He had taken those arrows for her. For her mother.
Dr. Aldren cleaned and dressed the wounds before speaking softly to Kain and leaving a bowl of herbs beside him. Kain promptly stood and stretched, wincing as he did. He grabbed a nearby whiskey bottle, dropped into the chair, and tilted his head back against the wall, eyes closed as he took a long swig. Layla found herself watching him—his long torso, the lazy bun at the back of his head, the confident smirk that curled across his lips …Then he cracked an eye open.
“You like the view, Little Dove?” he teased.
Layla rolled her eyes. “Thank you… for everything,” she said instead. “Tell your Queen I am grateful your men left in peace. As of now, I do not consider us at war. That’s mainly because of you.”
Kain grinned, head still against the wall, his eyes shut once again. “You’re welcome.”
Layla studied him. Mildly confused why he didn’t move to leave. “You can rest in a bed if you want. I’ll find you one.”
“Oh? You offering to join me, Little Dove? I’d be honored.” He flashed a wicked grin, those green eyes flying open with piercing mischief as they snapped to hers.
Her cheeks flushed deep red. “No! I—just—ugh!” He chuckled, leaning his head back to rest again.
“I mean it,” she said more seriously. “You’re free to go. My men can protect my family now.” He opened his eyes, and when they met hers, they didn’t waver. The mischief was gone—replaced by something quieter, heavier. A steady intensity that bore into her.
“I’m not going anywhere. If you’re going to Bartoria, I’m going with you.” Layla’s composure cracked slightly. The swell of emotion in her chest was impossible to ignore.
