“Maybe there’s something else in here that can help,” Oak says cheerfully.
“There is nothing here,” I snap. “My father probably has everything valuable locked in his study.”
“Briar, you are right!” Maines exclaims, snapping my attention. “The books we need aren’t here. They are in the castle.”
Oak’s eyes widen, realizing what she is insinuating.
“There is no way we can get into my father’s study to find what we need. He always has that place guarded and locked down.”
They both nod in agreement and Oak steps forward. “Well, we’re going to have to find a way around them, aren’t we?” A wicked smile forms on his face, and I’m instantly reminded of when we were children.
He leans close to Maines, and her cheeks redden. “Do you trust me, Miss Madden?”
She snaps her head in his direction. “No, definitely not.”
He grins. “You will.”
That smile can only mean one thing: he’s thinking of a plan that could get us killed.
Chapter 19
Seeing as it’s been days since the second trial ended, and the third hasn’t been announced yet, maybe we’re being given a break after Cromwell’s death. My father still hasn’t tried to speak to me since our conversation in his office. Maines returned to the House of Hedro to continue her research and care for her patients, while Oak acted as if our adventure out of the castle never happened.
I have spent the last few days adhering to my routine, avoiding unwanted company, and chatting with Rose and Lang in the kitchen. Rose remains suspicious when the subject of my mother comes up, but she doesn’t pry. Silas continues to occupy my thoughts, and I can’t help but wonder what he has been doing in the meantime. Whispers of the third trial being announced soon ripple through the castle, creating a buzz of excitement. The extra guests make the castle feel vibrant—almost whole—again.
A small ceremony was held the day after Barlowe’s death, where a tree was planted in his memory. I didn’t attend, and no one cared why. The new tree symbolizes life and rebirth, which is ironic since it grows in soil filled with tragedy.
I haven’t visited the site where the tree is planted. I haven’t been brave enough. The challenges that lie before me are going to require bravery, so it’s time to pay my respects. An intense pull drags me from the castle walls and outside to the small green courtyard where my brother took his last breath. The sky is filled with soft white clouds, offering a bit of shade as I kneel beside the young tree, still growing on the barren ground.
“What am I going to do, Barlowe?”
The tree sways in front of me. My eyes begin to well up—pooling with sorrow—as tears fall to the ground. “I can’t do this without you. You never deserved this. You should have stayed away forever if returning meant this. This is all my fault.”
I bury my face in my hands as a soft sob escapes my lips. The wind stops, the birds cease chirping, and the world seems to pause, granting me a quiet moment to grieve. “Something is wrong with me, brother. Darkness surges inside my chest, desperate to be freed. I’ve kept it at bay all these years, but it’s becoming harder. I need to understand what’s happening. I need your help. I need to know what you knew.”
For a moment, I let myself remember us as children—racing through this very courtyard—full of dreams that now seem far away. Barlowe never wanted to rule Daramveer. He told me from the start he would step down and let me become queen. His passions lay in combat—becoming a top commander, leading men to victory, and basking in the glory of war. He wanted songs and stories told about him around campfires and would have gone to the ends of the earth to achieve this glory.
The tears continue to fall. “I love you.”
I place my hand on the soft earth, and the grass tickles my fingers. In this moment, all I want, more than life itself, is to have my brother back.
“He knows that.”
The words shock me, and I jump to my feet, quickly wiping the tears from my eyes. My father stands behind me, his hands tucked into his perfectly tailored jacket.
“How long have you been standing there,” I snap.
“Only a second.” He states, moving closer. His presence makes me instinctively step back. He sits near the tree, avoiding eye contact. “Things are only going to get harder. I hope you’re prepared. I’ll stop at nothing to finish my plans. And believe it or not, Briar, I wish you had never gotten involved.”
“You brought me in from the start. The blood being shed is on your hands—the destruction you're causing is all due to you. Don’t attempt to make me pity you.”
He nods. “I’m aware, and that is something I can live with—can you? Let’s remember that you also have blood on your hands. You are not so innocent in these trials either, Briar. We are more alike than you wish to believe.” His eyes darken as he takes a relaxing breath. “I’m doing this to see who is the strongest amongst us. Your mother and I were married through an arranged union.”
The mention of her makes me flinch. “I’m aware.”
“We were very young back then, deeply in love at first. Over the years, we drifted apart. I never repaired our relationship—I never even attempted to. I filled my time with other important things and people, and I’m on the verge of achieving what I’ve always desired. Yet, I do regret allowing my relationship with your mother to fade. Maybe things would be different.”
I snarl, “But you don’t regret her dying? Does it even bother you that she’s gone?”
