Chapter 67: Chapter Eight

ADA

Sayer reviewed our course of action for tomorrow morning. After I understood my role, he suggested we retire for the evening. It was important that we were well-rested and alert.

Since the moment Cayden had come to collect me from Kyra’s tent to now, he had stayed very quiet. By now, I knew he would not address our disagreements in public.

As soon as we returned to the tent, he would demand I retract my decision to be a decoy in their attack. I could feel my anxiety building as I anticipated the fight we were about to have in our tent.

I laid our son down on the blanket to sleep. Slowly, I turned around to face Cayden, and he stood there unchanged, looking at our son on the ground.

There was not much room in our small tent. Only a few steps would bring us face to face, so I thought I would be the brave one and move closer to him.

Without any space between us, all that was left were the words that needed to be said.

“I know you do not want me to do this, but I have to. It is the only way,” I started. Before I could continue, Cayden raised his hand to my face and slowly swept his thumb across my bottom lip.

He lowered his face, and, without kissing me, brushed it against my skin until he found a comfortable spot. We stood like that for a few minutes until he finally broke his silence.

“We could leave here tonight, the three of us. We could ride toward the sea, find a ship, find a new land, and start a new life somewhere else.”

“Cayden, I know you too well. You would never abandon your family.”

“You are my family.”

“You would regret it one day. Grow to resent me. I could not do that to you.”

“You are my everything, the reason my heart beats in my chest,” Cayden said, leaning back to look me in the eye. “For you, I would do anything.”

I cradled his cheek, my heart light from his words but heavy with what would transpire tomorrow. “Then you will understand why ~I~ must stay here for ~you~.”

SILAS

King Toren had denied Silas an audience since they had left the negotiation. Silas paced around his room, swearing at anyone who dared speak to him.

The vision of his father speaking with Ada, her heathen husband standing nearby, replayed in his mind. The way Toren had spoken to her, his mannerisms, his touch.

His father had showed her more affection in that moment than he had showed Silas in years.

Silas had been with Lady Brynlee earlier that evening. She had come to tell him information she had learned in her ~own~ way about Silas’s fate.

Toren had been an easy target to seduce. Once she had realized Toren would never marry her, Lady Brynlee focused her attention on Silas.

She was invested in Silas’s future and would do anything it took to secure it.

During their rendezvous upon Silas’s return to the castle, Lady Brynlee shared Toren’s plan to turn him over to the Northmen tomorrow morning.

He wondered how his father could have chosen Ada over him. Silas’s hands tightened around the back of the chair, remembering her words.

He picked up the chair and threw it as hard as he could across the room. He refused to be ignored any longer and left his chambers, heading down the hallway to his father’s room.

Silas pushed aside the guards, throwing open the door to his room. There were Toren and Lady Brynlee together in the bed.

She gave Silas a salacious smile and covered herself up. Toren sat up in bed, taking his cup of wine off the table near him.

“Explain your commotion, Silas,” his father demanded.

“You are handing me over to Barra? For what, that cunt?”

“Yes,” Toren responded simply. He took a sip of his wine before getting up to put on his robe. Silas could feel his rage growing.

“Why? Tell me, why? I demand a reason!”

“It is simple, really. She is the stronger leader. She is not easily swayed by power, greed, wealth...status,” he said, looking over at Brynlee with contempt.

“Silas, you are weak. You will lead this town further into death and despair. That is not the legacy I wish to leave.”

In one motion, Silas felt himself take his dagger and plunge it into Toren’s stomach. Toren tried to pull the dagger out, but Silas plunged it further in.

Brynlee jumped out of bed, gasping. Once Toren’s body hit the ground, Silas backed away from him, realizing what he had just done. He had to come up with a reason, and fast.

“You fool!” Brynlee hissed. “Ada is now the rightful heir.”

“That is only if she is alive.”

“What have you done? You have spoiled everything!”

“You mean, what have ~you~ done?” Silas ran for the door and opened it to find Oisín standing there.

He forced past him, yelling, “Guards! Guards! Seize Lady Brynlee. She has murdered the king!”

OISÍN

Oisín ran into the room and watched Brynlee being taken away. She screamed, resisting as best she could. He knelt over Toren’s body, seeing if he could still be saved.

Oisín looked over the wound, accepting that the damage was too severe.

“Lord! My lord,” Oisín called out; Toren was quickly fading. He opened his eyes long enough to recognize his faithful steward next to him.

“You must warn Ada. Silas will bring his army tomorrow. He will kill her,” he said, and with his last breath shouted, “Go!”

Oisín directed the guards nearby to lay his body in the bed. Before Silas could locate him, Oisín ran down to the stables as fast as his feet would carry him.

He took off into the night, determined to ride until he made it to Ada.