Chapter 18
Rhydian sat in the quiet palace hall, the weight of the discussion still pressing against his chest as the last of the councilors exited. Across from him, Edmund, his commander and closest friend, remained seated, his sharp gaze filled with concern.
"You need to think this through," Edmund said, his voice steady yet firm. "It would be dangerous to attack now. We haven't yet secured the witches' complete trust."
Rhydian's jaw clenched. He had heard this argument before, but patience was a luxury he couldn't afford.
"How long do I have to wait?" His frustration seeped into every syllable as he raked a hand through his hair, tugging roughly at the strands. "They have her, Ed. She could be killed at any moment. They know she's my only weakness." His teeth ground together as the words left his mouth. The mere thought of his mother—imprisoned, vulnerable—was enough to make his vision blur with rage.
His mother's final letter echoed in his mind, the inked words carved into his memory:
"No matter what, do not surrender our kingdom to the Dragon Empire—even if they threaten my life. Wait for the perfect moment. Fate will reveal a solution."
But he couldn't just leave it to fate. He wasn't that kind of man.
The diviner had claimed the witches were key to securing victory, that with their help, this war could finally end. Yet, despite his efforts, trust was still a distant dream. Centuries of bloodshed between vampires and witches couldn't be erased overnight.
Edmund exhaled, leaning back. "Are you even trying?"
Rhydian narrowed his eyes. "Trying what?"
"To gain her trust." Edmund tilted his head slightly. "If you actually want her to trust you, you need to treat her differently."
Rhydian frowned. "Differently how?"
Edmund scoffed, as if the answer was obvious. "With care, love, and affection. If you can make her fall in love with you then she'll definitely trust you."
Rhydian stilled. "You expect me to—what? Make her fall in love with me?" The thought was so absurd it almost made him laugh.
But Edmund nodded, serious. "If she falls for you, she'll trust you. And if she trusts you, she'll help us win this war."
Rhydian swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He could see the logic, but…
Her eyes haunted him. Cold, unreadable, and hardened by battle. She had undoubtedly taken lives—many of them. Just like him.
He was supposed to make her fall in love with him?
The idea was insane. It was like asking someone to make him fall in love. Which he knew was impossible, his heart was stone dead, he knew that much.
But if he wanted a chance at saving his mother…
Edmund sighed. "You're actually considering it, aren't you?"
Rhydian ignored the teasing note in his voice. "How do I even go about this?" How could one show love when they didn't even know what real love felt like.
Edmund groaned. "It's not that complicated. Just act like she's someone you cherish. Someone you can't live without. Someone you love more than anything."
A muscle in Rhydian's jaw twitched. That sounded like a lot of work. They were only a handful of people he cherished, his mom was one of them...
Still, if he was going to pull this off, he needed information. Her name. Her likes and dislikes. Her favorite food. The places she preferred. He needed to know everything.
"How do I know when she's actually in love with me?"
Edmund smirked. "Oh, you'll know. The way she looks at you will change. It won't be the same way she looks at other men."
Rhydian rolled his eyes. "That's vague."
"Just trust me."
But there was one more problem. "And if she tries to kill me again?"
"Then pretend you didn't notice." Edmund shrugged. "You're immune to poison, so that's not a concern. If she attacks you physically, just defend yourself, but don't retaliate. If you react in a way she doesn't expect, she might even feel guilty."
Rhydian snorted. "She hates my guts. She won't feel guilty."
Still, the idea of her feeling even the slightest bit conflicted was… interesting.
Edmund narrowed his eyes. "One more thing. Don't force yourself on her. That'll only make her hate you more."
Rhydian's expression darkened, a growl rising in his throat. "Do I look like a rapist?"
Edmund raised his hands in surrender. "I didn't mean it like that, I just—"
"It's fine." Rhydian cut him off, but his fists curled tightly at his sides.
His control had already slipped once. Last night, he had come dangerously close to losing himself. He had pulled away in time, but the memory still burned in his mind—her sharp gaze, the defiance in her posture, the bitterness in her voice as she offered herself to him.
She had been willing to sacrifice something so important just to end him.
It made his blood boil.
A knock at the door interrupted his spiraling thoughts. He granted permission to enter, and a maid stepped inside. He recognized her instantly—one of the servants from the Queen's quarters.
"Your Majesty," she said, bowing slightly. "Her Highness is missing. We did not see her leave the room, so we have no idea where she went."
Rhydian's lips curled into an amused smile. That little witch had managed to slip past the guards he had stationed to watch her.
"Of course she did," he muttered under his breath.
Then, without another word, he pushed himself to his feet and strode out of the hall without another word.
He was leaving to find his wife.