The Sorrow of Shadows (Crimson & Shadows #1)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

AURELIUS

A s the new day greets me, I’m filled with more questions than I know what to do with. I wasn’t unaccustomed to death, but it usually wasn’t coming for me. Who could be bold enough to attempt to poison the emissary and future King of Rimor? Perhaps it was the same person that took the life of the last king. That was a strong possibility.

Pulling the sheets back, I force myself out of bed. Today is the first council meeting since I arrived at court. I hope it will be more productive than all the investigating I’ve attempted so far. I slip on a pair of black leather trousers and a matching tunic. My hands run through my black waves, attempting to appear put together. Truthfully, I didn’t sleep well last night, but I can’t let that show.

I had summoned the twins, Julian and Jade, to court and they were set to arrive sometime today, hopefully in time for the council meeting. My hope is that they would be an asset here, even if I had originally only summoned them to provoke Breyla. They were powerful and had earned their positions as Breyla’s second and third in command. Julian was not only skilled with any weapon handed to him, but his Gift allowed him to bend metal. Jade was equally gifted with a sword, but her Gift was far more valuable—the Anima Gift of coercion. With a simple touch she could bend others to her will. She could make you utter any truth, even cause you to turn your sword on your best friend. According to my sources, it was not a Gift she took lightly, reserving it for only the most necessary situations.

No matter how today goes, I expect I will at least be entertained. I exit my chambers, sparing a glance for the extra guards. I sigh, damn infuriating female. We both knew they were unnecessary, but she seemed to delight in exuding her power over me. When she was a teenager, we had come to blows more than once.

“Aurelius! You’re needed in the king’s chambers. Emergency council meeting or something!” Breyla shouted through my door as her fists pounded against it repeatedly.

I stared at the beautiful blonde with her head thrown back in lust currently riding me. Grabbing her hips, I rocked her back and forth, urging her closer to her release—and hopefully my own. For good measure, I used my Hemonia Gift to direct the blood flow to her clit and increase her pleasure. A moan left her lips that would leave no question as to what we were doing.

But Breyla already knew that. She had interrupted this very thing three times in the last several weeks. All in retaliation for when I interrupted her rendezvous with Simon a month ago. It was now a game to her; one I ruefully engaged in. We went back and forth, finding new and creative ways to inconvenience, interrupt, or insult the other.

Breyla hammered the door with her fist again and shouted, “Aurelius, you can fuck your whore later! You’re needed now!”

“Fuck off, Breyla,” I grunted, knowing damn well there was no emergency council meeting .

“Last chance before I break the door down and drag you out myself,” Breyla threatened.

“Perhaps she’s telling the truth,” Elle said breathlessly above me.

“She’s not, but she will break down that door,” I said as I flipped our positions on the bed. “So, I’m going to need you to come for me.” I growled and thrust into her. Leaving her no time to adjust, I quickened my pace and rubbed her clit in slow circles. Right as I felt her clamp down on my cock in orgasm, I heard the door slam open, splintering on impact with the wall.

“Woops,” Breyla said with a shrug.

Elle’s head is thrown back in pure ecstasy, but I’m still painfully hard inside her, no closer to my own release.

“For fuck’s sake, Breyla.” Throwing a blanket over Elle’s naked body, I stood and stalked toward the infuriating princess standing in my room. “Was destroying my door necessary?”

“It was an accident. I don’t know the strength of my own power.” She batted her eyes in faux innocence.

“Fucking horse shit. I’ve seen you craft actual keys from shadows and open doors that way. You did that on purpose,” I seethed.

She didn’t reply but bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. In an attempt to appear innocent, she cast her eyes down. Realizing her mistake too late, her eyes widened in surprise as she got an eyeful of my still fully erect cock.

“For the love of the gods, Aurelius, put some pants on,” she said dramatically as she threw her head back to avoid looking at me any longer. I resisted the urge to wrap my hands around her delicate throat and squeeze the attitude out of her.

Sighing, I found the nearest pair of sleep pants on the floor and pulled them up my legs. Using every bit of my Hemonia Gift, I willed the blood away from my cock and let it soften, once again aching for the release she had denied me .

Bringing her eyes back to mine, she smirked. “They’re waiting for you in the council room.”

I pushed past her, off to a meeting I knew didn’t exist, while I plotted how to repay her for this latest interruption.

She outranked me, but at that time she didn’t overpower me, and I was prone to flaunting it in front of her, so making me submit was her way of getting back at me. Eventually, she would bow before me; I would get her on her knees one way or another.

As I make my way to breakfast, I pass a soldier that informs me that the twins have arrived but were already meeting with the general and would be unavailable until the council meeting this afternoon. I don’t know if it’s intentional, but Breyla has already worn my patience thin, and the day is still young.

My train of thought is interrupted by the soft voice of a servant. “Pardon me, Lord Aurelius. The queen has requested you join her for a private breakfast.”

I wasn’t expecting an invitation for a private breakfast with Gen, but it will help keep my thoughts away from how much I currently want to wrap my hands around the princess’ throat. Giving a nod to the servant, I let them guide me to where the queen waits.

It’s not typically used for eating, but a table has been set up near two stuffed armchairs. A fireplace occupies the center of one wall, surrounded by shelves housing various books and trinkets. Given the late summer season, the fireplace remains empty, but the windows have been opened to allow in the sunshine and a light breeze. There’s an air of peace in the room, something that often accompanies Genevieve.

She’s sitting in one of the armchairs, smiling warmly at me as I take my seat across from her. A spread of breakfast pastries, potatoes, sausage, and fruit has been set out for us on the table. I let out a sigh of relief at the absence of eggs. As the last of the servants leaves the room, Gen visibly relaxes and curls into the large chair, tucking her feet underneath her .

“Good morning,” she greets.

I sit beside her and reach for a cup of steaming tea. “Good morning.” I smile in return. Taking a long sip, I relish the warm herbal tea. “Lavender?” I ask, quirking a brow at Gen.

“I find it helps quell my nerves before having to endure council meetings.” She finishes her cup, setting it down next to her, and reaches for one of the flakey chocolate-filled pastries she’s fond of.

“The council makes you nervous? Since when?” Being born a royal, she’s been dealing with council members since she was very young. Undoubtedly for longer than I have. I grab a dish full of raspberries, strawberries, and blackberries, then begin popping them in my mouth.

“Since I lost Raynor,” she says solemnly. “Since I stopped knowing who to trust.”

Her words cause something to click, and I set down my fruit. “You didn’t just bring me here because I was the only one you could trust, did you?”

Her lips quirk in a half smile. “No, I didn’t,” she replies quietly, shifting uncomfortably.

I keep quiet, waiting for her to explain.

“With Raynor around, I always knew who I could trust. Now, I’m second guessing everything and everyone. You weren’t here much before his death, but things had begun to change in recent months. Raynor confided in me less and in his council more. I can’t logically explain it, Aurelius, but I feel something coming. Something big. I need your Gift to help guide me.” Genevieve shoves the last chunk of pastry in her mouth as she finishes.

I’m saddened that she feels she couldn’t share this with me before, but also concerned that she doesn’t believe she can trust anyone. Given how she is feeling, it makes sense that she would ask for my help. My secondary Anima Gift allows me to discern the intentions of those around me and detect when others are being honest. Despite being known for my ability to control blood, my Anima Gift made me perfect for my position as royal emissary. Not even Breyla knew I harbored this Gift.

“I’ve already told you—I’m here for whatever you need from me. I must ask, though. Have you told Breyla any of this?”

“Which part?” Genevieve asks. She bites her thumb nail, a mannerism that betrays her nervousness. I haven’t seen her do it since she discovered she was pregnant with Breyla. She had been so afraid of becoming a mother, but I knew she would make a great one. I was thirteen then and had little interest in babies, but my brother was delighted. It was the only thing he could talk about anytime he visited home. To see the nervous habit return after nearly three decades let me know how unsettled she must be feeling.

“Any of it,” I clarify.

She sighs. “No. Breyla idolized Raynor. He was a good male, but he had faults. She never saw them, though. When she couldn’t even come home for his funeral, how was I supposed to tell her any of that? I refuse to break my daughter’s heart any further.”

“And about the council? What have you told her about that?”

Her eyes drop to her lap, and a sad smile creeps across her face. “Nothing. I’ve tried to talk to her many times since she arrived, but she refuses to speak with me. The most I can get is indifference and barbed words. I don’t know what to do, Aurelius.”

Though I’m angry to learn that Breyla refuses to speak with her mother, I’m not surprised. Her recent actions align with that. “Trust me, I don’t know what to do with that sharp tongue of hers either,” I mutter.

That’s not entirely true, though. There are a few things I could think to do with that tongue—but none of which I should be .

“Is she giving you trouble again?”

“When did she stop? That daughter of yours has been a menace since I arrived in the castle when I was twenty , Gen. How someone like you could produce a female so infuriating is beyond my understanding.”

She chuckles, “If it weren’t so true, I might be offended that you are speaking of my daughter this way. You forget she is equal parts me and Raynor. I’d say you two were like fire and ice, but that’s not quite right. You’re more like fire and fire, constantly locked in a battle of feeding each other’s flames and hoping you don’t get burned.”

“That’s accurate.” Trying to shift the conversation away from the female I can’t stop thinking about, I ask “What about Elijah? Breyla has always trusted him, and I’ve never felt any ill intentions from him.”

“I trust Elijah completely. He might as well be my son. His parents—Olivera and Daniel—served on the council until they died unexpectedly when Elijah was four. Olivera was a dear friend of mine, so Elijah was already like family. It wasn’t even a question to take him in. He and Breyla have been inseparable for most of their lives, and I know I can rely on him. He’s smart but he’s also young. I’m no fool, I know he only accepted the position on the council for Breyla’s sake. He tells her everything, so it saves me from relaying information to her.”

Some of this I knew, but some of it is new. Elijah’s parent’s death happened before my time at court, so I had no idea they had served before him—or that Gen was friends with his mother. It certainly explains why she is so fond of Elijah and why Breyla is so comfortable with him.

“Gen, I’m going to tell you something that’s probably uncomfortable for you to hear, but it needs to be said.” I was her friend first and everything else second. As her friend, it sometimes meant giving her the truth she didn’t want to hear.

“Well, go on,” she says .

“I know you mean well and want to protect your daughter, but you’re not. You’re only hurting her in the long run by keeping these things from her. I don’t care if you say she won’t talk to you—you’re her mother and queen. You can make her sit and listen. She may be acting indifferent right now, but she needs you and you need her. I can only assume she doesn’t understand the nature of our arrangement or relationship, as well. So, she probably feels betrayed that you would move on from Raynor so quickly. Keeping all these things from her is only hurting you both,” I say as gently as possible while still getting my point across.

Gen’s eyes welled up, and I almost regretted saying what I had said, but she needed to hear it.

“I can’t, Aurelius. What if I tell her and I lose her, too?”

“So, you’d rather she remain indifferent and cold toward you?” I’m having trouble grasping how telling Breyla could be a bad thing.

“If it means she’s safe, then yes. There are some things she’s better off not knowing.”

I slump in my chair and let out a deep sigh. While I may not understand her logic, this conversation is over because Genevieve rarely does anything without reason.

“Fine, Gen. If you want me to keep your secrets, I will. I don’t understand your reasoning, but I trust you. However, I still think you should keep trying to talk to Breyla. You need each other.” These aren’t my secrets to share, but what are a few more to keep?

Nearly everyone is already present and seated when I arrive at the council room. I take the seat to the right of Genevieve, and across from Breyla. Standing behind Breyla is Jade and Julian. Though they share a similar bone structure, hazel eyes, and warm brown skin, it’s easy to tell them apart. Julian keeps his raven hair trimmed short to his scalp, while Jade’s silver-white hair hangs in braids that nearly reaches her waist. Julian stands almost as tall as I, while Jade is several inches taller than Breyla. They are an intimidating, yet breathtaking sight.

I look down at the table to find we are only waiting for Lord Seamus. I’m sure his late arrival is just a way to make himself feel more important than he really is. A few moments later he makes his appearance, a smug look on his face. I wonder what that’s about.

“Well, now that Lord Seamus has graced us with his presence we can begin,” the queen says, her voice full of irritation. “We have much to discuss.”

Breyla speaks up first. “In case anyone hadn’t heard, someone attempted to poison Lord Aurelius yesterday. Fortunately for him, he had sent back the tainted food, but it was rather unfortunate for the kitchen servant who ate it instead.” Everyone has the decency to act surprised and horrified by this news, even Seamus.

“Were you able to discern who was behind it?” Lord Jaeson asks. He is powerful, but inexperienced in many ways. His Gift manifested unusually early at the age of eight. He’s the youngest on the council—younger than even Elijah—at twenty-five years. So while he’s had seventeen years to hone his power over fire, he’s still learning the intricacies of court politics.

“Not yet. We plan to question the castle staff and guards today. Lord Aurelius will assist me, as well as Commander Jade.” That catches their attention. They all knew what powers each of us possessed and what that would mean for those being questioned. “Rest assured, if those responsible are within these walls… we will find them,” Breyla promises .

Lord Seamus clears his throat, “Do you suspect it to be someone within these walls?”

“I’m not ruling out any possibilities.” Breyla glares at him.

“Lord Aurelius, surely you think this notion is absurd? As emissary, surely you have made no enemies in such a position.” Seamus looks to me to side with him. I find it intriguing that he is adamant that it could not be someone within the castle. But I also find it offensive that he would try to rely on another male to convince the general she was wrong for thinking the way she did.

“Lord Seamus, I only find it absurd that you would try to rely on another male to undermine your princess and general. I agree with General Breyla’s decision and line of thinking,” I spit at him. “I do not believe my position as emissary has anything to do with why I’m being targeted.” That earns me a heated look from Seamus and a slight smile from Breyla.

“Now onto the next order of business,” Breyla starts. “The attacks from Prudia have grown in boldness and frequency. My commanders, Jade and Julian, have more information to report.”

“My Lords and Ladies,” Julian starts, “in the weeks before our arrival we suffered three separate attacks on border villages. We were able to fight them off, but not without heavy losses. They’re not attacking females or children, but have no problem making widows and orphans. The odd thing seems to be the locations they’re attacking. They aren’t going for areas that would easily provide a foothold into Rimor. Their attacks are sporadic and spaced out...almost like they’re trying to get our attention or provoke us.”

The queen has been quiet, but finally says, “They sense weakness and want to test us. They’re looking for something they think they’re owed.”

“That makes sense with the passing of King Raynor,” Breyla muses. “But to what end? Even if they sense instability, they can’t seriously think they can take on the full force of our armies. They stand no chance of overtaking the capital, even if they make it into our lands.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, General,” Jade says. “I sent scouts out shortly before we were summoned to the capital. Their reports show significantly more troops than our last estimate. While our armies are better trained and far more powerful, they most likely outnumber us.”

Breyla’s jaw ticks before she asks, “By how many?”

“Three to one, if the scouts’ reports are correct.”

“Prince Ayden certainly has been busy.”

“With much more than we realize,” Genevieve adds. Breyla quirks an eyebrow at her but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m concerned about the locations of these attacks,” Breyla starts. “What if they aren’t random?”

“What’s their strategy?” I question.

“If they know they outnumber us, they could be thinning out our troops by drawing them to villages as far apart as possible. They take out as many of our people as possible, but the real goal is separating us so they can overpower us when they push forward.” This explanation has everyone in the room quiet.

“For all of our sakes, General, I hope you are wrong,” Lady Daphne says solemnly. She’s an older female, soft spoken, but wise. She’s seen a lot of fighting through her years, so I understand why she doesn’t want to see war reach us.

“I hope so, too,” Breyla replies. “Julian, has Prince Ayden requested any meetings with us?”

“Not so far, General.”

“Perhaps a proactive approach would serve us better. We could invite Prince Ayden to Ciyoria to negotiate terms of peace.” Absolutely fucking not. Breyla doesn’t know what damage that could cause. The Prince of Prudia was finicky on the best of days. He was unpredictable and difficult from my experiences with him. Prior to Raynor’s death, the king had me working toward a political alliance with Prudia that would bring peace for our two kingdoms. But that had died with the late king. Causing trouble was one of Prince Ayden’s fortes, causing me to want him nowhere near this palace—or Breyla.

“A nice sentiment, but I would advise against that.” I try to keep my voice even.

Her eyes dart to me. “Why is that, Lord Aurelius?”

“Forgive me, General, but you have not spent time there as I have. As emissary I have made numerous trips to Prudia. I feel I can speak to Prince Ayden’s character at least a bit. For years he has been driven by one thing—vengeance for his Father’s death. He does not care that King Raynor killed him in battle; he wants restitution. I fear if you invite him here it will be like letting the wolf into the chicken coop. It will cause far more damage than the alternative.” I pray that’s enough to convince her.

She mulls over my warning. “I will take your warning under advisement, My Lord,” she finally says.

“Perhaps we should address why the kingdom of Prudia views us as unstable right now,” Lord Rion suggests.

“Lord Rion is right,” Lady Daphne agrees. “My Queen, you have announced your betrothal to your council, but you haven’t made a public statement, set a date, or planned a betrothal celebration ball. You need to put our people’s minds at ease and squash any sentiment of instability.”

A few other council members agree. Lord Seamus has been uncharacteristically quiet. I glance at him and he’s still wearing that smug look, like he knows something we don’t.

“Lord Rion, you are approaching two centuries in life, correct?” Queen Genevieve asks. She looks exhausted. Dark circles are lining her eyes, and she seems thinner, her cheekbones more prominent than before.

“That is correct, Your Majesty,” he responds, unsure where this is going.

“And you and your wife have been married since you were very young? ”

“Since we were twenty-three,” he confirms.

“So, you’ve spent nearly one hundred and seventy years together. How would you feel if you were to lose her, then find yourself being pressured into marrying another just a month after her passing?”

“I...I would call them crazy. There’s no way I would marry so soon; it would be disrespectful to her memory.”

“I was blessed with twenty-nine years with my soulmate. Twenty. Nine. Years. A mere fraction of what you have spent with your wife. I will take advice from you only when you have felt my pain. I am just out of the mourning period. It’s been barely six weeks, and you want to rush me into marrying another? I will not disrespect his memory. I pray you never feel what I feel, but if you ever do, we can talk then. That is all I will say on the matter.”

Just like that, the conversation is over. Council members shift uncomfortably, several rising to leave the meeting.

“I have something else I would like to bring to the table, Your Majesty,” Lord Seamus says.

“Get on with it,” Genevieve says impatiently.

He turns his attention to Breyla. “General, you didn’t return home for your father’s funeral—why is that?”

Breyla’s face is completely unreadable as she responds, “I was unable to return home for his last rites, and the reasoning is my own. I owe you no explanation, Lord Seamus.”

“Indeed, but I think you’ll find I am not the only one wondering why you would bother returning now when you couldn’t be bothered to see your father off into the afterlife.” Lord Seamus’ words are accusatory and laced with venom.

“Be that as it may, I answer to none of you. Remember your place, Seamus,” Breyla growls.

Genevieve stands, resting her palms on the table as she stares down Lord Seamus. “What is your point, My Lord?”

“I have it on good authority that Breyla’s true purpose in being in the capital is to make a move for the throne herself. She plans to displace you as queen. It appears that she didn’t care about the death of her Father, seeing as she couldn’t be bothered to come home when he passed. She only bothered to return when she learned about your engagement to Lord Aurelius. How do we know she isn’t the one behind his attempted murder? She wants the throne and needs the two of you out of the way.”

I see a slight smile at the corner of Breyla’s mouth before her, the queen, and Elijah are all laughing. The other council members look confused, but Seamus looks utterly irate.

Trying to catch her breath, Breyla gasps, “Who in the world told you that? I have no intention of reaching for any crown. I understand I will wear it one day, but I will do whatever I can to prolong that time.” She winks at Lord Seamus. “Thanks for the laugh, though. I think we all really needed that.”

Lord Seamus is fuming, his heart beating so rapidly I fear it might fail him. If only we could be so lucky. He opens his mouth to speak but is silenced by the whoosh of a slim dagger landing in the wood of the table barely an inch from his right hand.

Eyes wide, he looks up to Breyla, who is now wearing a sinister smile. “Oh, and Seamus?” she sing-songs.

“Yes,” he grits out.

“If I were going to kill someone, I wouldn’t use poison. I’d slit their fucking throat,” Breyla says, turning on her heel to exit the room.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have servants to question and a murderer to find,” I say, finally ending the meeting. I retrieve Breyla’s dagger as everyone exits the meeting room. I’m a few paces behind Breyla, but quickly close the distance and grab her wrist, pulling her into an alcove in the hallway.

“Okay, Princess, start talking,” I demand.

She smiles coyly at me. “Is that normally what people do when they’re pulled into dark corners by dark sinful males?” Darkness surrounds us as her shadows wrap around our bodies, helping blend us into the wall's stonework. Anyone passing by would see an empty alcove, and the secrecy of our conversation only contributes to the feeling that I shouldn’t be this close to Breyla. Logically, I should be putting space between us, but my logic had a habit of fleeing when it came to her.

I lean in close, trapping her against the stone wall and whisper, “Oh, little demon, there are many other things I would prefer to do in this situation.” I sense her heart beating faster and her eyes widening. “That’s not the reason for this conversation. I need to know who wants me dead as much as you do—probably more. But what I really want to know is why you named me for questioning the servants? What value do I add in comparison to Jade?” It was a valid question; one that anyone would ask.

She grins widely at me. “Oh, Aurelius. I know your secret.”

“Oh? Is that so? And what might that secret be?” I keep my tone neutral to not betray my panic. Thanks to Gen, I'm keeping more than one secret, so I’m eager to hear which one she knows.

“You may be known for what you can do with blood, but I know you have an Anima Gift. You keep it hidden well; I’ll give you that. It was always impossible to lie to you, and I always wondered why, but one day it just clicked. It’s not just me—you know when anyone lies.” She smiles triumphantly.

A sigh of relief gets trapped in my throat. “That’s not quite all of it, but it’s the gist. I don’t know how you figured it out, but please keep that to yourself.”

“Of course, My Lord. It will be difficult to keep from Jade during the investigation, though.”

I trail my hand up the wall next to her, letting my fingers nearly touch her, but resisting—just barely. When my hand reaches her neck, I wrap my fingers around her slender throat and squeeze. My grip is firm, but not painful, to accentuate my next point. “You can tell her if you must, but if I find out anyone else knows...you will regret it. ”

Her eyes flare wide as she asks, “Are you threatening me, Aurelius?”

“Never, Princess. Just stating a fact.” I release my grip on her throat after a few moments, stepping back to put distance between us. Breyla’s breathing heavy, her chest heaving and eyes roaming me in an assessing gaze.

“Oh, and Princess? You left this behind,” I say as I flick her dagger back at her. Her shadows reach up and snag the blade out of the air before it can come close to her skin.

She narrows her eyes at me, and I give her a wink, turning from her and making my way toward the kitchens.