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He seemed to come back to himself, his gaze focusing on Gavril and me. The corner of Haemir’s mouth twitched in an almost smile as he took us both in. He sighed, leaning forward with a wistful expression in his eye.
“It wasn’t always like this,” He murmured sadly, finally breaking the silence. “It was easier before. Not better, but easier.”
Haemir rose from his seat, crossing the room with heavy steps until he was standing beside Gavril and me. He placed a large hand on each of our shoulders.
“I should have listened to you, Kael. We should have stayed. Then this would have never happened.”
His words hit me like a blow. He’d rather be a slave than have me be with Theron? I stepped back, my expression hardening.
“This is what I was afraid of. That if I told you how I feel about Theron, I would lose you. Lose Gavril. Lose my family.”
He looked up, his eyes burning. “You will never lose us,” he whispered, voice rough. “Never. Kiddo, it’s not your fault. The palace... his magic… it clouds your judgment. You’ve been pulled into Theron’s snare, and he’s exploiting it.”
My hands clenched into fists. “Theron never once used his magic on me. Iknowthe difference.“ My voice quivered as memories of my ordeal threatened to overwhelm me—Rhazien’s fetid breath on my neck, Zija’s laughter as I screamed and begged. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe I don’t,” he conceded. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“I trust him. He despises the Empress as much as any of us do.”
Haemir’s jaw tightened, a muscle twitching there. “He might hate his mother, but he only wants you, Kael. Peace is just a bonus for him. And if he has you, what incentive does he have to keep fighting for our freedom?”
The sting of his words took a moment to register. “So, you’re saying that I’m just a prize to him? That I can’t tell the difference between genuine affection and manipulation?”
He looked pained. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
I took a deep breath, battling back tears as I turned to leave. “Too late, Dad.”
Chapter 3
Kael
Theharshbiteofthe desert breeze grazed my cheeks as I stepped out of the barracks. Each gust seemed to whisper echoes of Haemir’s words, driving a dagger of pain deeper into my chest. I quickened my pace, the slave quarters a blur around me, its squalid stone buildings and meandering pathways little more than a smudged backdrop as I fought off tears.
“Kael!” Gavril’s voice rang out. His boots sounded against the cobblestones, quickly closing the distance between us. He grabbed my elbow, pulling me to a stop. “I’m sorry about what Dad said. Just—just give him time. He’ll come around.”
I eyed him, the weight of so many unspoken words pressing down on me. “What did Theron mean earlier? About his meeting with Teodosija and Dad?”
Gavril hesitated, his expression darkening. “Theron wanted peace. He pitched the idea of leading Adraedor, ensuring everyone’s freedom, all the while shielding us from Nyana’s wrath.”
The unexpected revelation made my heart stutter. “And Teodosija?”
Gavril exhaled heavily, the sigh ruffling his tousled hair. “She suggested abandoning the rebellion in exchange for making Adraedor some sort of vassal state. As if that would work. The Niothe would tear us apart the moment Theron’s elves left.”
I ground my teeth, frustration simmering. “It’s a death wish. How could she not see that?”
Gavril shrugged. “The Marshal did. He argued against it with Dad.”
A pang of affection squeezed my heart. “What happened next?”
A shadow flitted across Gavril’s face. “Teodosija’s soldiers showed up. They ambushed the meeting, targeting Theron... Dad fought him.”
My breath caught, visions of bloodshed and loss overwhelming me even though I knew they were both fine. “Did he...?”
“No,” Gavril assured me, his voice laced with reluctant admiration. “He didn’t lay a finger on Dad, even when provoked.”
A rush of warmth filled me. He wouldn’t rob me of another father, not after I’d told him the depth of my pain.
Walking beside the rough-hewn stone structures that bore witness to the eons of Adraedor’s history, Gavril bumped his shoulder against mine, his fiery eyes playful. “So, how are things with the Marshal? Or should I address you as ‘Your Highness?’”
