Page 55 of Sword & Sacrifice

Giving a speech from horseback was a novel experience for Silas. At least no one can break my nose while I’m up here.

“Today, we say farewell to our Arnsveldian neighbors, and wish them a safe journey home,” Silas called. His voice rang clearly through the morning, stronger than he expected. “As a gesture of friendship, Arnsveld is leaving soldiers behind to protect our borders from mutual enemies.”

A few dissatisfied murmurs rose through the crowd. Though none were loud enough for Silas to decipher the words, he’d heard enough of the rumors to understand the gist. Too many people still believed the Arnsveldians were invaders rather than allies, and Silas still struggled to dissuade those rumors.

“With this new alliance, we hope to have a prosperous future together.” Silas locked eyes with Archer. Without knowing what troubles he faced at home or along the road, they couldn’t know how long it would be before they saw each other again.

“Free of those who would abuse our people for their own gain,” Archer finished, gazing back at Silas. His dark eyes held a silent promise to make that future a reality. The stare only lasted for a moment before Archer turned away and barked an order for his people to move out.

Something pulled taut in Silas’ heart, a part that belonged to Archer, unraveling and fraying with each step of distance. Last night wasn’t enough to satisfy his need for Archer. A thousand nights wouldn’t be enough if at the end of them, Archer would still leave.

Silas wanted to snatch the reins of Archer’s horse, to hold him in place, afraid their bond would snap the second they parted. That he would be left alone, unmoored, with nothing real to hold on to. His hand twitched but he pressed it against his side. They would find each other again, like they had before.

Archer spared one last look over the crowd and raised a hand in silent goodbye.

Silas waved back slowly, the words he wished to say—stay, I love you, don’t leave without me—stuck in his throat.

He lingered for as long as he could justify, eyes locked on Archer’s departing back. His muscles tensed with the urge to guide his horse forward, to ride off into the distance at Archer’s side. Silas remembered the long days of travel they’d spent together—the soreness from riding horseback, the warmth of the campfire and the company, sharing a tent with Archer. At the time, Silas hadn’t appreciated the travel or the people around him. Not until the journey’s end. If he had another chance to travel with Archer, he would savor every minute.

The trip to Arnsveld is only two weeks. It could be a diplomatic mission, solidifying our alliance. A week there, another two weeks back. I’d hardly be gone a month. Surely, they could spare me for a month.

He stopped at the very edge of the city, like he’d run straight into a wall. But the only thing preventing him from continuing were his own responsibilities: the investigation; the palace reconstruction; Emmaline, somewhere out there, who Silas needed to protect. Even if he wasn’t magically indebted to Adelaide, he would have stayed for Emmaline. The sweet girl had done everything she could to help Silas, not only to treat the symptoms of his curse but to welcome him into the party, to be the first new friend he’d made in a long time.

After several long minutes stuck in his own head, Silas finally turned his horse around, then startled when he saw another rider lingering a few steps away. Somehow, he’d missed the straggler staying behind, though the Bellacostan blue uniform explained why he hadn’t left with the army. Despite the familiar uniform, the man was a stranger to Silas. “Did you need something?”

A bemused expression settled on the man’s face. “No, Your Majesty.”

Silas’ brow furrowed as he stared at the man. Then why are you here? He didn’t want to make his own people feel unwelcome, but the Bellacostan soldiers had only recently been released from house arrest, and Silas didn’t quite trust them yet.

As if reading Silas’ mind, the soldier explained, “My name is Langley. Captain Emera assigned me as one of your personal guards, sir.”

“I don’t need a—” Silas stopped, snapping his mouth shut over the stupid statement. After everything he’d experienced over the past few months, of course he needed a personal guard. He just had unintentionally assigned the role to Archer, always feeling the safest in his presence. I’d be his assistant and he’d be my guard and we’d both be happily demoted together. Now Archer was gone, a stranger taking his place.

Taking a deep breath, Silas forced a smile and said, “Why don’t I make your job easier, and we’ll head back to the palace?” He still had a long day of meetings and upkeep ahead of him, he didn’t have the luxury of wallowing in melancholy.

They’d just returned to the stables and Silas’ feet had barely touched solid ground when Mirinda appeared at his shoulder. “Your Majesty? May I have a word with you in private?”

Not even gone a full hour, he mused. “Yes, of course.” He left his horse to the groom and led the way back to the tavern. While they walked, they chatted lightly about the progress on the cleanup and the reconstruction, and when they could expect to have access to their own offices again. Mirinda and Langley did an excellent job of pretending to ignore each other’s presence.

When they reached Silas’ temporary office, Langley took up his post outside without a word.

Silas closed the door and offered Mirinda a seat. “What did you need?”

“First, I would like to reestablish regular council meetings.”

“With what council?” Silas asked, more flippantly than the question deserved. He moderated his tone and continued, “Adviser Cal is still unaccounted for and the Merchant’s Guild, as helpful as they’ve been with the investigation and the palace reconstruction, refuse to appoint someone to replace him. I can’t appoint a new Treasurer until we fully understand the mess Jacoby left behind. Our army is currently without a leader, and I don’t think anyone would be happy to have General Griselda sitting on the official council.” Especially Griselda herself. “And we’ve barely scratched the surface untangling the threads of the old council’s mess. To be frank, I’m not eager to put myself in the hands of another so soon.”

Mirinda’s lips pursed in displeasure and she stared down at her hands folded tightly in her lap. She took a deep breath and raised her head to look Silas in the eye. “You’ve kept me on as an adviser, and my advice is to form a new council. Allow us to take some of the burden of your work.”

Silas knew he needed people to rely on—those who would truly be loyal to him and support Bellacosta’s reformation—but he didn’t want to rush the process. The only people he currently trusted could be counted on both hands with fingers to spare.

“The council meetings will have to wait.” Before Mirinda could argue, Silas added, “At least until we have a few more members. Until then, you and Felicity can always meet with me regularly to discuss any kingdom business. I’ll also work with Juniper and Quentin to clean up this Treasury business and find someone new to lead it.” Is that good enough? He didn’t ask the question out loud, but he hoped she’d answer it anyway.

Her pinched expression implied her dissatisfaction. “Some kingdom decisions should be discussed with as many viewpoints as possible.”

“Like what?” Silas asked, exasperation leaking into his voice.

“Like marriage. We would need to find a suitable bride for King Archer among the available noble candidates—”