The Sorrow of Shadows (Crimson & Shadows #1)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

AURELIUS

I t’s been over three weeks since my arrival in the capital, and the longer I’m here, the more questions I have. I swear Breyla’s honeysuckle and citrus scent still clings to me from our encounter three nights ago. The servants whisper about a castle ghost resembling the late king, my brother, Raynor. Unable to sleep that night, I was wandering the castle hoping to find the ghost when Breyla ran into me. Though it was dark, I could clearly tell she was not the annoying pre-teen I remember from my time living in the castle. Gone was the lanky girl who didn’t quite know what to do with her too-long limbs. In her place was the general with toned muscles, thick curves, and a mouth that just didn’t know when to quit. She was confident in herself and her skills, and despite what I said about her balance that night, she was incredibly graceful when not piss drunk.

Breyla had been doing her best to avoid me since I arrived in Ciyoria. Not that I could blame her. I am betrothed to her mother, Queen Genevieve, but she doesn’t have all the facts. Closing my eyes, I replay the memory of my first encounter with the queen upon my arrival at the castle.

“Welcome to Ciyoria, Lord Aurelius.” Queen Genevieve smiled, and though it didn’t reach her eyes, I knew she was trying. Her husband had just died, and she was being forced into another marriage just to keep her throne.

“Please, Your Majesty, just Aurelius. We have known each other too long to be that formal with one another.” At that, she smiled genuinely. I opened my arms, and she stepped into me, wrapping her arms around me tightly. I could feel the tension in her body start to melt away, even if just slightly.

“If that is the case, then I am just Gen to you. At least in private.” She had always been Gen to me, but it had been years since I last saw her, so it was difficult to know where we stood.

Reluctantly, I pulled back from her and looked her in the eyes. “I’m not going to ask the bullshit questions everyone asks because they feel obligated. I know you’re not okay.”

She sighed. “Thank you, Aurelius.”

“But I do have other questions.”

“Of course. I would expect that.”

There were so many I needed answers to, but the biggest one was, “Why me?”

“That’s simple. You’re the only one I trust.”

I had agreed to the proposal for my own reasons; reasons Breyla—and everyone else—didn’t need to know. Though Breyla had done her best to avoid me, I had been very closely monitoring her. She was drunk often, so it wasn’t hard to keep an eye on her without catching her attention. I would have expected her to keep on her training, meet with her commanders about the looming threat of war from the kingdom of Prudia, or at least spend time with her grieving mother. She had done none of those things. She often slept late into the day, ignoring all responsibilities, and made a game out of trying to piss off as many of her mother’s council members as possible .

My Hemonia Gift not only gave me the ability to manipulate blood, but also the ability to sense when something was residing in it, such as disease, infection, or alcohol. So, color me surprised when I noticed over the last three days, since our late-night run-in, that her blood had been entirely free of alcohol when she was seemingly inebriated.

To make things more interesting, my secondary Anima Gift—in my case, the ability to sense intention and truth—had caught brief glimpses of words and actions that didn’t align. She had stronger mental shields than most, probably a result of her best friend, Elijah, also possessing an Anima Gift. For him, it was the ability to read memories. Very few knew I harbored this Gift, but it proved useful at court. The longer I spent in this castle, the more convoluted the situation became. This morning was a breaking point for me.

“Good morning, Princess,” I said as Breyla plopped into the dining chair. Her emerald-green eyes shoot a glare my way. I don’t think she liked it when I called her that, which made me want to do it even more. She looked broken and erratic. Her hair was braided in a crown, yet tendrils of her warm auburn and sun-kissed locks were sticking out and loose. It looked as if she slept on it. Her clothes were clean, but not pressed, and riddled with wrinkles. I’m not the only one that noticed.

“Darling, are you sleeping alright? You look troubled.” The concern was evident in Gen’s eyes. She was grieving her husband, yet still concerned with the wellbeing of others. I squeezed her hand lightly to reassure her. Breyla noticed, sneering at me. It was apparent she didn’t approve of her mother’s relationship with me, regardless of the nature of it. There was absolutely nothing romantic between her mother and me, but she didn’t know that.

With a healthy amount of disdain, Breyla responded, “Sleeping just fine, Mother. It appears you’ve been sleeping well by the look of things.” I didn’t like what she was insinuating. I wasn’t sure if it was what she said or the way she said it. What bothered me more was that she knew I occupied the chamber right next to her own, yet she still threw that insensitive jab at her mother.

Gen brushed it off and continued, “Do we need to assign you new maids? It looks like Lyla has lost her touch. I know her hands trouble her, but ? —“

“No need. I dismissed my ladies. I care for myself just fine when I’m away from the castle. I see no need for them here.” Her words were abrupt. While they were true, it was also very unusual for royals or nobility to attend to themselves while in the castle.

“I see.” Gen was upset. “Well, Lord Seamus has petitioned me to allow his daughter, Ophelia, to attend you.”

“If Ophelia wishes to be my lady, she can speak with me herself.”

Gen sighed deeply. “Very well. I believe Lord Aurelius has a matter he wishes to discuss with you.”

She turned her gaze to me and, with a saccharine smile, asked, “Yes, stepdaddy dearest? How can I be of service to you?”

My nostrils flared at the tone in her voice and what it made me want to do to her. Such a brat. “ I received word this morning that Prince Ayden II of Prudia attacked a village on the outskirts of Rimor. They say it was unprovoked, but your soldiers weren’t far away and were able to end the skirmish with minimal casualties.”

“I was aware of that, yes. My soldiers are well-trained. I am unconcerned. Prince Ayden is just throwing a fit because my father killed his in battle years ago.”

Unconcerned? She was unconcerned. I could feel my temperature rising, but before I could say more, she stood and left the dining room.

I had been furious all day. How could she act so casually about the loss of lives? She is the general of our army, yet she can’t be bothered to have a conversation about an open act of aggression against us. It’s early evening when I find her lounging on a cushioned seat in the library.

I close the doors, locking them behind me, and lean against the frame. “Evening, Princess,” I say, staring at the back of her head.

She sighs and slams her book shut. Turning to glare at me, she says, “Stop calling me Princess.”

Knowing I’m about to start a war, I continue, “Sorry, no can do, Princess. I can’t call you general, because from what I saw at breakfast the general isn’t anywhere in this castle.”

Stomping her way over to me, she demands, “What is your problem, Aurelius?”

She stands six inches from me, but I can still easily stare down at her. Something I know she probably hates. “My problem, Breyla ...” I start slowly, “is you.” She doesn’t seem surprised, but I catch her jaw tick.

“What specifically is it about me that offends you so?” she grits out.

“It’s your attitude that offends me so, Princess. You’re a liar and quite possibly the most insensitive female I have ever met.” I step into her space. Though she’s tall for a female, I still dwarf her frame.

Anger flares in her eyes. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you, asshole. You know nothing about me.” She steps closer to me and shoves her finger into my chest to make her point. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”

This female.

In a move so quick she doesn’t have time to react, I grab her wrist and flip her against the wall, pinning her hands above her head. I snarl as I lean close to her ear to whisper, “I know enough. You’ve been using your grief to justify your behavior since you’ve been at court. Although you pretend you don’t care about anything, the truth is you care deeply.” Her eyes burn into me, but I continue, “There are plenty of reasons for you to return to your soldiers and leave the capital. The report this morning wasn’t the first we’ve received of this nature since you arrived. You should be out there with them, but there’s something keeping you here. Despite your behavior, you are one of the best damn generals this kingdom has known, and you don’t get that by not caring.”

She scoffs in indignation, trying to jerk free of my grasp. I tighten my grip as I push closer, our noses almost touching. “I also know that the last three days, your blood has had no alcohol swimming through it, yet you let the entire castle believe otherwise. You’re here for a reason—one you don’t want people to know—so you’re trying to disguise your actions.” By the end, I’m almost yelling, pushed closer against her, and breathing heavily.

It's too late by the time I notice the shadows moving unnaturally around the edges of my vision. I feel something wrap around my ankles and knock me off my feet. I hit the library floor with a grunt as Breyla lands on top of me. She straddles me with a dagger pressed lightly against my neck. She may never admit it, but I struck a nerve with her. Her actions say everything her lips won’t, so I take the opportunity to provoke her further.

“If you wanted me on my back, Princess, all you had to do was ask.” I smirk at her.

Her shadows snuff out the lights in the room. I feel her lean in closer and press the blade harder into my throat. I swallow hard as she speaks softly in my ear, “You’re still easier to look at in the dark.”

I feel her nose run lightly down my jaw and my pulse jumps. But mine isn’t the only one. A low growl escapes me as I buck my hips, throwing her off balance, and then roll her onto her back. I have my knee lodged between her legs and use my hips to pin her down. I lean down to speak low. “Liar.” I can’t help myself when I place a soft kiss on the spot between her neck and shoulder. She shivers under me, and I know she’s affected. She can pretend she doesn’t like looking at me, but my Gift effortlessly reveals her deception. “Now tell me what you’re doing here,” I demand.

“I have frequently caught myself wondering the same thing about you,” she deflects. “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.” With that, she pulls her shadows back into herself, and light returns to the room.

There is a sharp knock at the door and a male’s voice on the other side. “Breyla, are you still in there? Why is the door locked?” It’s Elijah. I suddenly realize how the position we are in would look. I jump to my feet, straightening my tunic. This conversation is over, so I unlock the door with a twist of my wrist and fling the doors open.

“Lord Aurelius, I didn’t realize you were in here,” Elijah says with a suspicious look in his eye.

“The general and I were just discussing battle strategy,” I grunt as I brush past him—noticing he smells subtly of lilac and honey—as I exit the library.

I shoot up straight in bed, my heart beating erratically and gasping for breath. Long auburn curls and the scent of honeysuckle are all that linger in my mind from the dream. The images are blurry, and I can’t quite piece them together. What had awoken me? I look around the room, and that’s when I notice it. Rather, I notice him . My brother, Raynor. He looks just like he had the time I’d seen him alive as he sent me to Prudia on official crown business—curls piled neatly atop his head with the sides shaved shorter, freckles spattering his face just like Breyla, the Rimorian crown resting on his brow. I’m doubtful that this is a ghost at all, having never seen one before, but I’m eager to hear what he has to say.

“It’s about time you woke up,” he says impatiently.

I stare at the ghost, dumbfounded. It’s the middle of the night, and he’s criticizing my timeliness in waking up? “Pardon me for sleeping. I’ll do better next time. I’ve been here for weeks. It’s not as if you didn’t have ample opportunity to appear before now. Perhaps even at a time of day when I was already awake.”

Raynor’s ghost tsks at me. “Save your complaining for the living. I have something to say.”

“I’m listening.”

“I was murdered by someone in this castle,” he says bluntly. I stare at him, and he continues, “You don’t look surprised.”

“I’m not surprised, brother. I noticed things were...not right the moment I arrived. From my first conversation with Gen?—“

“Ah, yes. My wife, and now your fiancé. Tell me, how did that come about?” He seems genuinely invested in my answer here.

“She approached me about it. I only accepted her proposal to protect her. She apparently does not feel she can trust anyone on your council. Can you tell me why that is?”

“My queen’s instincts are sharp. I cannot speak for everyone on the council, but I would start with Lord Seamus. I believe him to be connected to my murder.” It’s interesting what information this ghost has—and doesn’t have.

“You believe? You don’t know for sure who murdered you?”

“Unfortunately, I did not see my death coming. I can’t say for sure, but I believe strongly that Lord Seamus had a hand in it. He stands to gain the most from removing my bloodline from power.” His uncertainty about his murderer unsettled me, but his reasoning on Lord Seamus had merit.

“I’ll look into it. Why come to me, though?” I figured he would go to Gen with this information.

“I do not wish to trouble my queen with this. It would only upset her further. She needs to heal. Please do not mention this to her, I beg of you.”

“You need not beg, brother. I will take care of Gen; she is always safe with me.” I truly mean that. I love her, but not in the way he had. “There is something you should know about my engagement to Gen?—“

“I do not wish to hear it. I love her, and I know you will protect her and Breyla. That is all I need to know.”

I chuckle, thinking about the dagger the princess had to my throat just hours ago. “The princess has made it abundantly clear she can protect herself.”

“That’s my girl,” the ghost says proudly. “Still, I expect my heir to be safe in your hands, Aurelius.” He shoots a stern look at me.

“Of course, Raynor. I understand.” With that, he was gone.

I lie back down, knowing dawn is still hours away, but I will get no more rest tonight. Lord Seamus might be suspicious, but he wasn’t the only one. Breyla was here for a reason, and I was determined to figure it out. What mess had I walked into here? My duties as emissary were never this interesting.