Elira couldn’t sleep again.
She lay curled beside Zareth on the bed, her eyes open but fixed on nothing.
The room was quiet, save for the crackling sound of the hearth.
Zareth wasn’t sleeping either.
He lay on his back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting on Elira’s back and moving up and down in a soothing manner.
Elira closed her eyes.
What if he found out she was carrying his child…
a peace bride?
Would he be angry?
She thought about it as she rested in his warmth.
She had missed him as Adrian.
Adrian had always hugged her, carried her, kissed her lips, and they had even made love.
But why did she feel so tense whenever Zareth’s fingers brushed against her skin?
If this moment had been with his Adrian side, they would have been reminiscing about the love they shared.
But now, she wasn’t sure if he still loved her or if he was simply doing his duty as a king by taking care of his peace bride.
“Are you alright?” Zareth asked.
The silence was beginning to feel suffocating.
“Yes!
I’m alright,” she whispered.
Another silence followed.
When Zareth thought he was really going to drown in the suffocating silence, her delicate voice finally sounded.
“I’m sorry!” “For what?” Zareth was surprised.
“For causing you trouble.” Her voice was low, as though she were terrified.
Was that the reason she had been silent?
Did she think she had caused me trouble?
He couldn’t believe it.
“You’re silly.” He chuckled softly.
“You were having a nightmare.
You don’t need to apologize.” Elira smiled.
The small movement of her lips tugged at something inside his chest.
He didn’t say another word, but his embrace tightened slightly.
“I haven’t dreamed of her for a while.
And I didn’t know how to feel right now,” Elira spoke up.
Zareth knew exactly who she was talking about.
“She’s missing you, I guess,” Zareth’s voice was soft.
Elira suddenly stilled, making Zareth wonder if he had said something wrong.
“What if she’s not alive?” Elira asked.
Zareth didn’t know what to answer at that moment.
King Budegha had told him about what happened to her mother.
But Elira’s words felt…
different.
“What happened?” he asked, looking down at the top of her head.
Elira closed her eyes as memories from five years ago appeared in fragments inside her mind.
“I didn’t know what happened at that time.
I was just having a moment with her when the royal guards stormed into her chamber and dragged her away.
I wanted to follow them, but I was held back.” Her voice trembled slightly.
“My mother was imprisoned by the court and was to stand trial.
After the trial was held, she was found guilty and was to be beheaded.
But on the day of the execution, she escaped to the Deadland.” “She escaped?” Zareth asked.
“Yes.
But that is not good news because no one survives the Deadland.” Zareth reached out and gently patted her head.
That was similar to what King Budegha had told him.
But if Elira didn’t know the crime her mother had committed, that meant…
There was more to the story.
And he had to find out.
King Zareth remained quiet.
He kept thinking about what Elira might have gone through.
She mostly tried to mask her emotions, but sometimes she couldn’t hide them because hiding them hadn’t become a part of her.
“Elira,” he softly called.
She raised her head and looked up at him.
“Do you trust me?” Now, that was sudden.
Elira wasn’t expecting that question.
Silence…
“I know you weren’t expecting this, but I want to know.” His voice was so soft that Elira nearly drowned in the melody of it.
She smiled.
Does she trust him?
“I have always trusted you.” Maybe that was all he wanted to hear.
Or perhaps it was all he needed.
Something inside him shifted.
She had trusted and still trusting him, even though he had come to her with dishonesty.
“I’m sorry, Elira,” he whispered.
“It shouldn’t have been like this, but I couldn’t stop myself.” Elira’s pulse quickened.
Was he really going to speak?
Why shouldn’t it have been like this?
Many questions ran through her mind until he spoke again.
“I came to you with lies, Elira.
And when I tried to control it, I couldn’t because you had already become part of my plans.” “I wasn’t part of your plans in the first place?” Elira asked.
Zareth chuckled.
“Elira, Elarion was the first kingdom that escaped my wrath, and it was because of you.” He slowly untangled himself from her embrace and got up from the bed.
Elira watched him as he walked straight to the window.
But he didn’t push it open.
Instead, he simply stood there, staring into thin darkness.
The only light in the room came from the hearth, its glow casting itself across his back and showing off the broadness of his shoulders.
Elira gulped and quickly looked away.
Meanwhile, Zareth wasn’t aware of her dirty thoughts.
He stood there, talking about how it had all started.
He had been at war with Eldarsh and had surrounded their borders.
But who would have thought that the ruler of Elarion would open his gates to Eldarsh and give them a free pass to attack his kingdom?
“Elarion betrayed me!” He turned and looked at her.
“Do you know the funny part?
Elarion and Eldarsh had severed their peace years ago, and they had been at war with each other for more than a decade.” Elira knew about that.
“But none of this had anything to do with me,” Elira whispered.
Zareth looked at her and chuckled.
“Why are you so naive?” he asked.
She blinked in surprise.
“If I had gone to war against Elarion, you would have been a slave by now, Elira.
And trust me, that title doesn’t suit you even a bit.” “That’s a lot to take in.” “Yes.
My mother didn’t want war either.
But at least, I could have had his head hung at the entrance of the Ivory Crown.
The same one he had suffered to build.” His gaze remained fixed on her.
“But you…” He pointed at her.
“…made me change my mind.” Silence filled the room.
Elira was trying to digest everything he had said.
While Zareth, his feelings were different?
At least she deserved to know.
That was what Zareth thought.
When Elira didn’t speak for a long time, Zareth became uncomfortable.
“Elira!
Are you okay?” She nodded.
“You know…
I also lied to you,” she said.
Zareth looked at her.
“You didn’t.
You were protecting yourself,” he answered.
Elira didn’t know what to say.
He had cleared her from the questions that had been tormenting her, but she still owed him a secret-a secret she couldn’t hide for long.
She was scared of what his reaction might be.
But he still had to know.
“Zareth, I…” But Zareth cut her off.
“That’s enough for the night, Elira.
The Royal Harem maltreated you today, and you need to rest.” He walked back to her and urged her to lie down.
Elira laughed.
“They did not maltreat me!” she said, looking at him.
“They made you speak too much, and that wasn’t good for my bride.
But you did great.” Zareth smiled.
Elira could see something in his eyes.
Pride.
He was proud of her.
“You were watching?” she asked.
“Yes, and I couldn’t stop.” He climbed back onto the bed and pulled her into his chest.
“Now, sleep.” Elira obeyed and closed her eyes.
Maybe she could tell him some other time.
**** **** General Alaric pushed open the heavy metal door that seemed to have been rusting there for ages.
The hinges groaned loudly.
He raised the torch in his hand as he stepped into the tunnel.
Behind him were three soldiers.
The moment they entered, a foul smell hit them.
The tunnel was damp, cold, and rotten.
The walls were covered in moisture, while the ground was muddy beneath their boots.
The youngest soldier couldn’t take it and suddenly bent over and threw up.
General Alaric glanced back at him and smirked.
The young soldier clearly wasn’t used to such places.
That was exactly why Alaric had brought him along.
The boy had picked a fight with his colleagues earlier, and Alaric had decided this would be his punishment.
“Don’t worry,” Alaric said dryly.
“You will get used to it.” The soldier wiped his mouth and reluctantly followed.
“Hurry up.” They continued deeper into the tunnel.
The night outside was freezing cold, but somehow, the tunnel was even worse.
The cold seemed to creep through their clothes and settle into their bones.
For a moment, General Alaric wondered how the smugglers survived such a place.
“This place looks like it hasn’t been used in ages,” one of the soldiers said, running his hand along the wet stone wall.
“Yes.
It was shut down more than two decades ago,” another soldier replied.
“It’s mostly reopened during wartime.
And trust me, whenever it’s opened, just know the war is going to be brutal.” “Oh, I would like that kind of war,” the younger soldier squeaked.
The others laughed.
“If you boys don’t get serious, then I’m going to get serious with all of you,” Alaric barked.
The laughter immediately stopped.
They continued walking.
The farther they went, the darker and more unsettling the tunnel became.
The walls seemed to close in around them, and the sound of their footsteps echoed through the narrow passage.
“What if it was the wrong information, General?” one of the soldiers finally asked.
“It’s not.” Alaric’s answer came immediately.
“Pedro doesn’t give wrong information.” They had been walking for what felt like hours, yet they still hadn’t found the junction that was supposed to lead them to their destination.
Alaric stopped and studied the map again.
And looked ahead.
“Keep moving.” They continued until, at last, the tunnel opened into a larger underground junction.
Everyone stopped.
They had finally arrived.
The soldiers heaved sighs of relief, and one of them laughed as they patted each other on the shoulders.
General Alaric, however, didn’t celebrate.
His eyes immediately moved across the three passages before them.
Three roads.
One led back the way they had come.
The second disappeared into another dark passage.
The third stretched forward into deeper darkness.
Alaric studied the first passage.
The one they had come from, just to be sure.
It was covered in thick dust.
No footprints.
No wheel marks.
Nothing suggested that anyone had used it recently.
He turned to the second.
It was also dusty and damp.
The stones were covered in a thin layer of dirt and cobwebs, and the air around it was stale.
It hadn’t been used in a long time.
Then his eyes moved to the third.
He stopped.
Unlike the others, this passage was different.
The ground was clear and dust had been disturbed.
There were faint wheel marks in the dirt.
Someone had been using it frequently.
Alaric stepped closer and crouched.
He ran his fingers over the ground.
Fresh.
His eyes narrowed.
He stood and looked deeper into the passage.
“Pedro wasn’t wrong.” The soldiers gathered behind him.
“So they really use this place?” one of them asked.
“That wasn’t expected,” another said.
“Funny enough, some damn smugglers have been using this tunnel when I haven’t even done that.” “Shut up, Jerome.” Another said.
“Do you expect to be using the tunnel when it wasn’t built for frequent trespass?” Jerome opened his mouth but quickly shut it.
Alaric ignored them.
He turned his attention back to the tunnels.
Something about this place bothered him.
The tunnel had been officially closed for years.
It wasn’t open to the public.Yet someone was using it.
That meant whoever was behind the smuggling operation is a high status.
He left the soldiers behind and moved deeper into the passage.
He walked slowly, careful not to make unnecessary noise.
After a while, he stopped.
He had heard something.
He turned his head slightly.
A faint sound was coming from somewhere ahead.
He held his breath and listened.
It came again.
The creaking of wooden wheels.
Someone was coming.
Alaric’s eyes sharpened.
He quickly turned around and hurried back toward the soldiers.
But he kept his footsteps quiet.
The soldiers were whispering and laughing among themselves, when Alaric reached them.
“Put out the torchlights.” The laughter stopped.
“Stay in position.” The soldiers immediately obeyed.
One by one, the flames disappeared.
Darkness swallowed the entire tunnel.
Alaric pressed himself against the wall and listened.
The sound grew louder.
Creak.
Creak.
Creak.
Then came the voices, echoing through the walls.
Soon, the faint glow of torchlights appeared in the distance.
A group of men emerged from the darkness, pushing a heavily loaded carriage through the tunnel.
They were speaking loudly, completely unaware that soldiers were hiding nearby.
“The other carriage has arrived in Ashborn, and this one will reach Herbendnez by tomorrow,” one of the smugglers said.
“Really?” another asked, his voice dripping with surprise.
“Yes.
Lord Beren Holt’s riders are truly fast.” The words echoed through the tunnel.
Alaric froze.
His eyes widened slightly.
“Lord Beren Holt.” Then his expression hardened.
“How dare that bastard”