I forced the words out. “I want peace.”
Cadoc leaned forward slightly. “The only thing you have done so far to prove that is show up to this meeting.”
He was testing me, pushing, waiting for a crack. His tone was calm, too calm, as though he knew just where to apply pressure to make it sting without breaking.
My hand clenched at my side, the curse’s heat flickering dangerously under my skin. It felt my hatred for this man. It would push and push until I felt like I was standing on the edge with no choice but to act.
I could easily burn Cadoc alive where he sat. The curse begged for blood and screams. But I wantedher, and my people deserved better.
That was the difference now. I’d spent fifteen years obeying my fury. Today, I would choose her peace over my rage.
“I retaliated,” I said slowly, “because peace demands it sometimes. Don’t mistake my current restraint for weakness. I want a cessation of hostilities,” I continued, my voice lower, less volatile. “But I want it on agreeable termsand in writing. If your raids do not stop, my people will have no choice but to react accordingly. And I… I will attack as I see fit.” I managed only the faintest growl in my voice.
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting with something unspoken. “Then you have my word, Prince Emrys. Gelida does not seek conflict with Darreth. We will look more into border conditions to see if we can quell any raiding.” He paused, letting the silence do its work. “We offer you a concession.” He reached into the satchel at his side and withdrew a scroll, sealed tightly with blue wax. He sedately slid it toward me across the table. “A piece of land to act as a buffer zone. To be controlled by Darreth’s crown for the security of both our peoples.”
I reached for the scroll, broke the seal, and glanced at the contents quickly. They were offering a rocky stretch of ground that no one wanted besides maybe goat herds. An empty gesture designed to keep the conversation going, meant to buy time rather than peace.
Still, it was a concession, even if small. Each day that our soldiers could be home with family was of immense worth.
I allowed my gaze to flicker from the scroll back to his face. “And what do you want in return, General?”
“Conversation until we reach an accord,” he said simply, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “We see how this first step goes until midwinter. Then we meet again. Maybe expand the buffer zone.”
“Trade must continue,” I argued.
“Of course. We could restrict travel to the main roads only and set up a checkpoint on both sides.”
That…didn’t sound awful. It might offer a future where Gelida’s threat wasn’t constant. My kingdom would need more than this to stand secure, but it would buy us the harvest season at least.
But at what cost? Something was buried beneath this proposal, and I feared that only time would reveal it.
“You should know, Prince Emrys,” he said, trying to hold my gaze, “that the tides in Gelida are shifting. Soon, decisions will come from a different crown. I cannot say which yet, but…both sides have many supporters.”
I studied him. His tone at last was polite, even conciliatory, but something about his wording caught on me like a burr. Was he a supporter of Maelric, who opposed magic? Or Princess Anwen, who was said to be ambivalent to it?
I snatched up the scroll, barely holding back my desire to burn it, and stood. “A courier will hand you my decision by nightfall.”
His gaze burned into my back as I departed.
I’d restrained myself long enough to start what I hoped would be a period of peace. Land had been offered, along with a promise that the raids would stop. I could return to Isca with good news.
I felt almost giddy at the thought.
But the taste of the small victory was like ash. Something in Cadoc’s eyes had unsettled me, and I knew deep down that I’d left the table with more problems than I’d bargained for.
Everything seemed normal when I reentered the camp to cheers from the men. Like me, they craved vengeance, yet the prospect of returning to their families was even more tempting. I left the horse I’d ridden in place of Arth to be brushed and fed by a squire.
I waited for the embrace of her aura, to feel it thrumming just under my skin. But with each step toward the tents, the absence of her magic grew more noticeable.
Something was wrong. Her magic usually rose to greet me before I even saw her face. The void sent a chill that felt like claws of ice raking down my spine.
Her bedroll was still warm where she’d sat upon it using her makeshift writing desk. But the ink had spilled, its dark stain spreading across the papers, dripping onto the canvas floor. She hadn’t been gone long—a quarter of an hour at most.
I dropped to one knee beside it, reaching out a shaking hand as if I could summon her back by sheer will. The scent of lavender still clung to her pillow. I buried my fingers in the blanket and felt the lingering heat of her body like that might be enough to satisfy me.
Never enough.
She wasn’t in my tent. So I went to the one she shared with Catrin.
