Alcina is busy packing - if packing means angrily, slightly hysterically, shoving every item she owns into her numerous suitcases. She tries not to fall apart at the seams each time her hand stumbles over something Brendan had purchased for her.And there’s so much of it, and Alcina can’t stop thinking of how stupid she’d been, intoxicated with the delusion that any of it meant anything.The dragons are safely tucked in their own trunk, to be handled with care, empty save for small cushions and a silk sheet lining. The last time Alcina had checked on them, they’d made a comfortable nest of the space, and that had been that.Her bedroom door opens, and Alcina whirls around, head brimming with too many thoughts that are too loud.As it is, she’s still clutching onto the handkerchiefs Brendan had re-purchased for her with a manic sort of vigor that belies a person very, very on edge.It’s Alfred, evidently having finished the last of the discussions.“So,” Alcina clears her throat, arm l
Nordin is a man not unlike the most terrifying force in the world when there is something he has set his sights on.For the past half-year, said sights have been set on the one and only horizon of- free Alcina from the damnation that is her betrothal to the man so vile they call him the Shadowed Beast.As it is, there is nothing short of a tornado that could stop him now, when he is finally, finally able to put the gears into motion. He has already assembled their entire entourage within an hour, saddled and ready to depart.Yes, the plan had initially been to stay for a gracious and cordial three-day stay, during which they would leisurely cement the final details of the alliance before setting back for the Heartlands.But when Nordin had arrived and laid eyes on that figure, they called Alcina’s betrothed apprehension had grown in his chest, unbidden. Nordin saw how Brendan’s dark gaze always fixed on Alcina, as though they could not bear to look away.Nordin needs to get Alcina out
As the carriages pull out, Brendan walks away, unable to quite stomach the sight of it.The idea of returning to his room - empty, devoid of any indication that Alcina had ever been there at all, as though she were simply one long, poignant dream - is similarly unbearable.So Brendan goes to find Lincoln in the hopes of a night spar. He finds the Commander in the training courtyard, alone, sitting casually on the small steps leading down.A rhythmic, sharp sound - like metal grating against stone - repeats, over and over, growing louder as Brendan approaches him.He pauses.“...Are you sharpening your swords? In the dark?”Lincoln looks up at him, the moonlight glinting eerily off both his blade and his clean white teeth from his grin.Brendan is, not for the first time, mildly disturbed. That they call him the frightening nightmare is laughable, given that Lincoln regularly makes Brendan pause in wary silence.“It is good practice, my lord.”Brendan eyes him dubiously. “Practice, fo
Nordin is still glancing at Alcina with a worrying gaze every few moments when the carriages screech to a halt.There’s a loud clamor outside as men and horses alike shout and whinny with surprise, confusion, and fright, filling the air with a terrifying din.It would appear, from the sounds, that theirs is not the only carriage that has stopped. And, inexplicably, the world seems darker outside the windows, somehow, despite it already being night.Nordin glances sharply out the windows himself, trying to glean what is happening.“Why have we stopped?” he demands loudly to the coachmen. “Uh-” comes the panicked, vaguely confused voice of their driver. “I- I am not certain, my lord- just that- we cannot seem to move-”Alfred sits back in his seat. “It is Lord Warner,” he says with surety. He has just sensed his mind in the proximate area.Brendan, the man who can bring an entire battalion to a screeching halt with his Gift that controls the shadows of every mortal.Alcina freezes. And
"Stay."Alcina jerks.Her blood rushes in her ears as if suddenly coursing with fire in her veins.She stares, stunned, eyes wide and lips parted. "...What?" Brendan, eyes blazing with something, takes a step forward. And like an unfathomable, unexplainable pull, Alcina, too, takes a faint step forward in turn."Stay," Brendan repeats quietly, but it's deafening all the same for Alcina.Alcina, who can feel that prickling behind her eyes again, that electric current buzzing underneath her skin. Her heart pounds painfully in her chest with a vigor that takes her breath away. She stares at Brendan--the man who'd told her she was special and called her mine, the man who Alcina had wanted, more than anything, to keep her--who'd then told her to leave, discarding her like the spare that Alcina had been raised to be."You're late," comes the words, tremulous and just a tad petulant, despite the wet glimmer in her eyes and the red flush on her nose and cheeks. Brendan's lips curve into a
"It really is very discourteous to be so late, you know," Alcina sniffs, tears steadily trickling down her cheeks."My most heartfelt apologies," Brendan says, and Alcina snorts."And what were you going to do if you hadn't made it in time?" Alcina digs her chin into Brendan's shoulder like a particularly petulant huff. If you had let me go, and I had made it all the way back to the Heartlands, with an entire kingdom in between us; if you had let me go, and I had left?Brendan's smile is somehow both calm and disastrous at the same time, like the gaze of a man who, incomprehensibly, is calmly prepared to tear entire kingdoms asunder in his path.It's a magnitude of affection Alcina has never been privy to before and one she doesn't quite understand nor know how to receive."Something as trivial as time and space is not sufficient deterrents," Brendan murmurs. Alcina feels her eyes prickle once more."I would have come for you," he says simply.As though it were as simple as the words
“And? So you are going to stay here?” Nordin leans forward from his seat at the table, voice incredulous.When the grand House of Clair procession had promptly returned, right back to the gates of House Warner, Alpha Warner had come shuffling out in confusion.Before Nordin even had a chance to protest, Brendan had led his father aside and quietly informed him that Lady Alcina of House Clair would, in fact, be staying.In the Western Plains, and the arranged betrothal as planned.To say Alpha Warner had been exuberant would be an understatement.An alliance forged on mutual needs is satisfactory, but just barely; in the uncertainty of wartime, shaky political alliances will not do.The permanent, immutable allegiance forged by marriage is infinitely preferable to that predicated by something as trivial as coexisting mutual need.By the time Nordin had managed to dashboard the carriage, Alpha Warner had already swept cheerfully back into the castle to begin making preparations for the
By the time the three siblings’ conversation is over, it is nearing midnight, and Alcina is quite exhausted. She just barely manages to stumble to her room, where she heads immediately for one trunk in particular.Perseus and Orion practically tackle her to the floor the moment she opens it, snuffing and clicking in unfettered joy.Alcina giggles, squirming when the dragons nose their snouts against her cheeks and neck, and it takes nearly ten minutes for the two to stop wriggling with wild excitement.After that, all Alcina has the energy to do, is to change into her nightgown and dig up her sleeping mask from the bottom of her trunk.She glances at the closed door separating her and Brendan’s bedroom with a bitten lip.* * * * * * * * * *Brendan is stretched along his bed, a book open in his lap when he hears the separating door open.He looks up and watches as it swings slowly, carefully, slender fingers visible where they’re wrapped around the edge of the door.And then, Alcina’s
“And how long has she been here?” Brandon asks, just as the others arrive at the cell.He can hear a sharp intake of breath; Alcina.“Oh, a few days, I reckon,” Lincoln shrugs casually, his hand still holding the girl’s neck to the wall in a brutal grip. “I’m afraid I’ve lost count, as I’ve been down here all the while.”For a man like Commander Lincoln, sleep is but a trifling and unnecessary luxury.When a man like Lincoln has a prey set in his sights, he does not need such a thing as sleep.Even for days on end."I caught her trying to slip into your study," Lincoln says. The girl comes to life momentarily, struggling against the grip on her neck, but grows limp when Lincoln simply tightens his hold anew without even batting an eye.“I’d hoped to be able to have a nice, civilized conversation with our friend here,” Lincoln sighs, sounding as though it were nothing more than a matter of some friendly gossip. “Without needing to call you here, but.”“She has not been forthcoming,” Alf
There is little time for pleasantries, in light of the note.Brandon does not know what could have possessed Lincoln to send such a note, nor are there any details to be gleaned from its contents: a precautionary measure, given how often such notes are wont to be intercepted in travel.Still, he knows that there is very little - almost nothing at all - that the Commander is not entirely equipped to handle on his own, short of the very war coming to their doorsteps, such that he would be forced to call for Brandon's return.Let alone demand him to bring Lord Alfred, as Lincoln had so alluded.It makes Brandon slip seamlessly into the shadows, for even the scant extra moments it would take to travel by foot is a luxury they do not seem to have.* * * * * * * * * *In the end, it is a lean retinue of the Lords and two soldiers from the Heartlands, that are to make their departure for the Western Plains.Given that the Western Plains are directly en route to the Ranges, Percy and Darla wi
Alcina wakes up alone.It’s enough to startle her, even trapped as she is in that dull haze of the moment in between sleep and consciousness; enough, that she sits up, blearily rubbing one eye. “Brandon?” she calls blindly, voice rising in pitch to come out just the tiniest bit plaintive.Brandon steps out from the ensuite doorway, then, and Alcina turns her head in his direction, still rubbing sleepily at one eye.Brandon has evidently just stepped out of the shower, clad in a black silken robe, tied loosely at the waist and splayed open around his upper body. Alcina, still dazed from sleep, watches the way water droplets continue to drip down from Brandon’s damp locks, trailing down his neck and splattering onto the floor.When her eyes return to Brandon’s face, she finds Brandon wearing a small smirk, dark eyes intent and amused. Brandon raises a slow brow.Had Alcina been more awake, she might have had the presence of mind to be embarrassed at having been caught staring.But at th
Alcina gasps violently awake.Her hands fly to her neck.But her neck is fine. There are no hands curled around them, like manacles pressing the very life out of her with each squeeze. There is no soldier, eyes wild with the adrenaline rush of a battle, forcing her onto the ground to choke her into an eternal slumber.But there are, Alcina dimly realizes, soldiers.All around her.They seem to be swarming in, from far away, but bringing with them a panicked sense of urgency, all the same.From-Alcina stiffens.The marble floors, the elegant pillars, the limp body of-Elton.She is-Alcina is in Elton’s fortress.The thought of it brings the immediate, surging terror for- Brandon-!Alcina whirls around, nearly stumbling with the force of it. And then she sees him.Brandon, here this time, strapped to the pillar behind him with massive, heavy iron chains. Brandon, pale and gaunt and dripping crimson, everywhere-“Brandon!” the cry tears itself out of Alcina’s throat, a wild and devasta
“You would wage a war, For my daughter?”Brandon’s gaze flickers up to meet Duches's eyes, wretchedly amused.“Madame,” he laughs, low and dark, and in it, she hears something ruinous.This man, she realizes then, is one who would wage not one war, but thousands of wars, all in the name of devotion to her daughter.“I would do far more than fight a war, for your daughter,” he says, condescension laced into every word, lips parting to reveal a cold and predatory, calamitous facsimile of a grin. “and I would win it.”And as the Duchess stares into Lord Brandon’s face, she discovers, that there is something frightening like no other nightmare in the world could replicate, in a devotion like this. An ardent, zealous, terrifying brand of devotion, one that is more befitting of a creature they call the Shadowed Beast than a man.For better, or for worse.The man - the monster - to whom she had bartered off her own daughter, with thoughts of a hundred and thirty thousand lives, and hundreds
Nordin, after all, had been Alfred’s closest friend all throughout their childhood and had been there when Alfred underwent his own grueling training with the Duchess.He had been the one person whom Alfred allowed to see all those cracked and broken parts of himself and had been the person who had mended Alfred and made him whole each time.Nordin has had to put one Clair back together and does not fancy having to pick up the pieces of another one after all this time.Years ago, when Nordin had only been thirteen and Alfred eleven, and Nordin had had to put the broken pieces of Alfred back together after his mother’s training--Thirteen-year-old Nordin had looked at Alfred, then, wearing a soft and kind smile despite the pain that had been wrought upon him by virtue of a terrible and harsh world--And that is the moment when Nordin had decided that he would become strong enough to ensure no man would be able to hurt Alfred again.That for Alfred- the boy who spoke of those mysteries
In the morning, Alcina wakes earlier than her husband.It is not often she gets to experience such a luxury, given that Brandon is the early riser between the two of them. But occasionally, on mornings like this, Alcina has the privilege of waking before Brandon, and looking over to see her husband’s face smoothed with slumber.Alcina had never thought she’d grow to adore another’s features the way she has Brandon’s.It is an endless fascination for him, one that she could spend hours tracing the lines and dips and curves of, without end. Even now, Alcina turns and shuffles a little closer, pillowing her head on one arm while her other reaches up of its own accord, fingers reaching out to-She stills.Her fingers, still outstretched towards the slope of Brandon’s nose, hover uncertainly in mid-air. They twitch, before she brings her hand back to tuck tightly against her own chest, biting her lip.Alcina stares at Brandon, now, the man who had fearlessly and lovingly grasped the very h
When Alcina manages to trudge her way to her room in the palace, she has hardly made it past the doorway when Brandon is instantly at her side.Brandon grips her by the shoulders, expression blank but eyes almost frantic in the way they run over her frame from head to toe, as though cataloging any possible injuries. And then, at last, Brandon lifts a hand to rest gently along Alcina’s cheek.Alcina shudders and sinks into it, sighing. “I half feared the Duchess may have buried you somewhere in the courtyard, and I would have to go digging for my wife,” Brandon drawls, teasing and insouciant but with genuine worry in his eyes when Alcina peers up at him.Alcina manages to muster a scowl, though she loses the energy for it right after.Drained, Alcina allows Brandon to help her change into her silken pajamas and guide her right to bed, where Alcina sinks gratefully into the pillows. “I really ought to shower,” Alcina murmurs uselessly, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “I’m quite disgust
The courtyard is a ruined wasteland.Everywhere the eye can see, the ground is shattered into nothing more than rubble, uneven and dusty and jagged with uneven footing.But there is one woman who maintains perfect balance, even as the ground shakes violently underneath her precarious red heels: the Duchess, hair flawlessly coifed with not a single strand out of place, even four hours into their training session.She lifts her chin, and a massive, tapered boulder, narrowed to a lethal point, separates itself from the ground.And then, it goes shooting forward, soaring through the air to hurtle towards the two figures hovering in the sky. Alcina sees it coming and grits her teeth as Orion dives sideways in a spinning tumble to avoid it.The Duchess straightens up.All of a sudden, the ground falls still.The silence that follows feels oddly deafening in Alcina’s ringing ears, after hours of its cacophonous din. She, too, straightens up, peering down at her mother in confusion. The Duc