CHAPTER 43: The Right to Say Goodbye

  The trio came to an abrupt stop, standing in a dark corner near the edge of the capital. The massive gates to the city loomed ahead of them.

  This part of the street was empty. It was too late for anyone to be leaving the capital and yet too early for the morning guards to rotate into their stations.

  Compared to the rest of the city, alit with celebrations, an eerie silence hung in the air. It felt deserted.

  Rufus stared at the wooden carriage, his throat tight. Tears welled in his eyes. Seeing Elody’s final resting place made all his anger vanish. His knees buckled beneath him as the will to fight drained away. He felt like a puppet going through the motions as he turned to the Raven General and her masked companion.

  “She’s in there?” he asked, voice cracking.

  “They’ll take her out of the city before dawn,” nodded the masked man. After a brief pause, he added, “If you wish to bid farewell, I suggest you do it now.”

  Eyes widening at the offer, Rufus swallowed hard. “You won’t try to stop me?”

  “No one can know of what happened tonight, Lord Langard,” the masked man’s voice hardened. “Including the Lord of Feldgrau.”

  “I understand,” Rufus wiped at the tears. “Thank you,” he croaked, although he didn’t feel the least bit thankful. The words felt hollow even to his ears.

  Rufus stared. His feet were frozen, rooted to the spot. He knew this was his last chance to see her, but he didn’t know if he could stomach the sight.

  “Go,” said the Raven General, gaze distant. “You'll regret it if you don't.”

  Rufus’ heart clenched painfully. No matter what he did tonight, the guilt would follow him forever, like an aching shadow.

  She continued, “You owe her that much.”

  “I owe her so much more than that,” whispered Rufus. But he knew there was truth in the general’s encouragement. With great effort, he forced himself forward. Each step felt heavier than the last. After an eternity, he found himself standing before the carriage door.

  His hand shook as he reached for the lock, fumbling with it as he tried to steady himself.

  “I have to say goodbye,” he whispered, voice barely audible. “Damn it all! Why her?”

  The boy clenched his eyes shut. He wouldn’t rest until Elody was avenged. Maybe he could even help the Raven General in assassinating her husband. But for now… this was about Elody. He cleared his mind, but fresh tears came anyway.

  As he slid open the unlocked doors, old memories slammed him. Teasing smiles and the scent of paint filled his mind. They had known each other for so long. To think this was how it would end… He choked on a sob and forced the door open.

  “Elody,” he cried, hiccuping on his words. “I’m so sorry- “

  “By the gods!” a familiar voice cut in. “Rufus, what are you doing here?”

  Rufus’ eyes snapped open. As soon as they landed on the body inside the carriage, he screamed.

  A hard slap to the face stopped him cold. “Shh!”

  He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Was it the grief? Was he already hallucinating her familiar presence? But the stinging on his cheek said otherwise. He glanced up once more, just to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.

  “Rufus, please stop looking at me like I’m a ghost,” came the dry remark. Elody crossed her arms.

  The young lord could only shrug, stunned. He wiped at his tear-stained face. “Elody,” he gaped. “I can’t believe you’re alive!”

  The courtesan, very much alive, shot him an unimpressed stare. She pulled him into the carriage. “Do I look dead to you?”

  He stumbled in, landing painfully on his knees, but she pressed on, “Hurry, there isn’t much time, I-“

  Elody froze as two arms pulled her into a tight hug. “Rufus?”

  Hesitantly, she reached up and stroked his slumped back. It was a familiar gesture, one they had often shared after Rufus returned from a shouting match with his mother or a humiliating appointment with his disappointed father. But never had he clung to her with such desperation, shoulders shaking so hard. She felt the tears soaking through her clothes.

  “I really thought the Ice Prince killed you,” came the haunted admission. Rufus’ voice was raw. “I thought I was too late.”

  Elody could only sigh. “I thought I was going to die too,” she shrugged helplessly. “Apparently, they just want me out of the capital as soon as possible.”

  Pulling back, Rufus scanned Elody’s face. The courtesan’s pristine makeup was a smudged mess. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her perfect braids were a tangled mess. His stomach twisted at the ugly purple bruise on her cheek.

  Rufus was almost afraid to ask.

  “Did they hurt you?” His voice was tight.

  To his surprise and relief, Elody shook her head. “They didn’t.” Her hands dropped to her sides. “But the Hounds did.”

  Rufus paled. “The queen’s Hounds?”

  Elody gripped the boy by the shoulders. “The Ice Prince’s men saved me, but Rufus, I have terrible news.” Her voice shook frightfully, “And I don’t know what to do.”

  “It’s fine, Lady El,” he tried for a genuine smile. “We’re together now. Whatever it is, we can figure it out.”

  She stared at him, desperate eyes searching his. “Harmon is going to testify against the Ice Prince tomorrow."

  His jaw dropped.

  "The queen is going to have him,” her voice dropped into a terrified whisper, “and General Langard tried for treason.”

  Rufus jerked back like he’d been struck. “What did you just say?” His breath hitched. “My father- He’s in danger?”

  Elody watched him carefully, hesitant. She found herself patiently waiting for something. A stronger reaction, perhaps. She waited for the boy to lash out at her, to blame her for dragging his family into this mess. Elody waited for him to scramble out the door, to cast her aside for his own blood… just as all her patrons had before.

  But Rufus only inhaled shakily, then shook his head. “That’s… a lot, El.” But then his gaze hardened. “What’s the plan?”

  She felt something in her chest loosen, a heavy weight she hadn’t even realized she was carrying. For all his flaws, Rufus was... She shook her head with a small smile. Against all reason, a flicker of hope sparked within her.

  “There’s only one thing we can do. We have to save my sister!” Elody clutched his hand. “You must convince the Ice Prince’s men to let her leave with me, but they cannot know why.”

  Rufus paused, clearly hesitant. “But he spared you this time. Maybe if we explain-“

  “If the lord finds out,” Elody cut in with absolute certainty. “He’ll have no choice but to execute Harmon and me under the old laws of Feldgrau. And if you don’t bring Harmon back, you and your family’s lives are at risk too!”

  "But what if-" he started.

  She tightened her grip, eyes burning with urgency. “I’ve thought about it ever since they brought me here," she licked her chapped lips, "And there’s only one plan that will work."

  Rufus stared at her, honestly struggling to process everything at once. He wasn’t even fully convinced this entire conversation wasn’t a hallucination conjured by his grief-stricken mind.

  "Please, Rufus.”

  Elody held his gaze. “Didn’t you say the Raven General is your friend? And that she’s madly in love with the Ice Prince?”

  The boy suppressed a sigh. He had a bad feeling about where this was going.

  Elody hesitated, chewing her lips nervously, before finally revealing her great plan.

  “You need to convince the general my sister is in love with the Lord of Feldgrau,” she said carefully.

  The boy choked.

  The courtesan smirked, “And that Harmon intends to steal the Ice Prince from her!”

  Rufus stared at her, utterly dumbfounded.

  “Trust me.” Noticing his lack of response, Elody added smoothly, “From what I’ve heard, she’s a territorial beast. She’ll definitely be interested.”

  Rufus let out a strangled noise and dragged a hand down his face.

  He groaned at the naive brilliance of her scheme. He wasn’t sure what was worst: involving the general at all or attempting to incite her rage.

  The courtesan blinked. She shook him lightly. “Rufus?”

  "By the gods, El." He lowered his gaze, voice heavy with dread. “Do you want her to kill me?”

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  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The Hound sat at his desk. He scanned the parchment filled with reports. The tiny flame on the candle flickered. The light of the flame cast long, wavering shadows across his grim expression. He set down the parchment on the meticulous desk. “Any news?”

  "Well, sir," his assistant hesitated. "The team has not returned or sent news."

  The silence itself was an answer. The fact that there was no news was news. . No unconscious courtesan had been delivered to the jail cell they prepared. No mission reports, no urgent messages. Something has gone horribly wrong.

  “Should we send for a backup team?” the words felt hollow even as the assisstant spoke them. They had sent out an efficiently trained team of Hounds. What could possibly have taken them down?

  His captain leaned back into his chair, watching the flickering flame. After a moment, he sighed.

  “No,” the captain reached for his quill, dipping it into the ink pot. The Hound tapped it against the side, watching the dark ink drip off the tip. “If they’ve failed, the girl was either taken…”

  Loud, scratching noises filled the silence. The Hound signed his name on the latest orders.

  “Or she’s already dead.”

  The assistant bowed his head despite the urge to protest the mere thought of it. The captain was implying failure. That was impossible.

  Grabbing a fresh page, the Hound scrawled a few words across it. His note was short. The dark strokes were precise and decisive. Reading over it once, he slid it into an envelope.

  “I want you to personally escort Lady Harmon to me.” He held out the envelope to the other man.

  The assistant swallowed hard, taking the offered envelope. “Lady Athena will not be pleased that we’re intruding twice.”

  The Hound’s gaze was harsh and cutting. Compared to the queen’s wrath, Lady Athena’s anger would be nothing more than a child’s tantrum.

  “Then let her throw her fit,” he said, voice like steel.

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  "Your merchant status is hereby revoked."

  "And if you ever enter another one of my trading posts in your life..." The Spice Merchant stared at the kneeling form before her, her expression carved from stone.

  "You enter it on punishment of death."

  The dim lanterns flickered, casting an ominous glow in the merchant headquarters. The trading post was the next city over from the capital, the third largest in the Spice Merchant’s arsenal after the ones in Feldgrau and the capital. Her head jerked to the side, catching her daughter’s uneasy gaze.

  “Take him away,” she snapped, barely sparing the crumpled form another glance. Disgust curled in her stomach as the guards hurried to obey. They dragged his groaning form across the floor.

  The man had the audacity to stare at her pitifully as he was taken away. The Spice Merchant sneered. He was lucky she hadn’t ordered his tongue cut out.

  No one betrayed her and got away with it.

  She rubbed her temples as exhaustion settled deep in her bones. The loose curls of gray hair framing her face were a stark contrast to the tight braids she usually had them in. Their unruliness was a testament to the late hour. She was supposed to be sleeping. Her tired gray stare settled on the younger woman beside her. “This is not what I wanted to be woken in the middle of the night for.”

  The younger’s lips were pursed in thought. She was practically a mirror of the older woman. Her eyes reflected the same grit and calculating glint despite her young age.

  “Mother,” her young face was set in a worried frown. “If what this man says is true…” she trailed off uncertainly, biting at her thumb.

  The mother swatted at her daughter’s fingers. It was a childhood habit she had yet to break. The girl clenched her fists, dropping them to her side.

  “He has no reason to lie,” came the weary response. The Spice Merchant had built her empire on her instincts. Now, those same instincts warned her that they were all in danger.

  The legs of her chair screeched noisily, scraping against the stone floor as she pushed herself up. Dutifully, the daughter hurried to stand as well, assisting her mother by the arm.

  In a flurry of motion, the Spice Merchant shoved open her study doors, her daughter sticking close to her side. “We must head for the capital at once.”

  The younger bit at the inside of his cheek. “Mother, if what he said was true, if he really told the-“

  The Spice Merchant spun on her heels. Her nails dug into her daughter’s arms, fingers pressing hard enough to make her point clear. They had been so careful in their planning. Meticulous. There were no loose ends, no oversight. Everything had been reviewed dozens upon dozens of times. And yet, betrayal has slipped through their cautious fingers.

  And to think that one of her own merchants had turned traitor… it added insult to injury. And to sell information on the weapon production to the capital, no less. It made her grit her teeth as shame rolled through her like a brutal wave.

  “We are all in danger,” she said, blinking off the last fogginess of sleep. “There is no time for hesitation.”

  For the first time, in a long time, the mighty Spice Merchant looked uncertain. “We must warn the Lord of Feldgrau before it is too late.”

  Her daughter forced her bitten nails behind her back, lacing her fingers tightly. “What will happen to us if they find out it was one of our men who sold the information?”

  The Spice Merchant heaved a low sigh. “There’s no use in thinking that far ahead.” She glanced knowingly as the younger frowned at the answer. “What have I always told you? When adversity tests us, we must focus first and plan later.” Her frown deepened. Time was working against them.

  First, they had to ensure the Ice Prince lived long enough to punish them.

  The two moved swiftly through the opulent halls of the trading post. The walls were covered in expensive tapestries, and their greatest wares slumbered beneath the floors like hard-won trophies. Their footsteps were a hurried whisper against the marble. Although it was masked, fear and desperation haunted their every step.

  “Prepare the carriage!” the Spice Merchant called to one of the guards. The man nodded swiftly and passed the message to the line of trained attendants.

  The trade post never truly slept. They had too many enemies and possessed too many treasures to ever rest easy. Like a well-trained army, they stirred at the rising of their master. The trade post slowly came to life as they worked to assist the Spice Merchant, sprinting for materials in the dark and beckoning the horses and carriages to the front.

  By the time they arrived at the entrance, everything was already prepared. It stood waiting at the gate, its soft lanterns barely cutting through the darkness. The carriage master straightened at the sight of his mistress.

  Pulling herself inside, the Spice Master ran a hand through her frazzled hair. "I'm getting too old for these late nights." She grimaced at the greasy strings.

  The carriage master closed the door and hopped back onto his seat at the front. "Mistress?" he asked.

  “Head for the Prince’s Residence at once,” she ordered.

  The horses would be exhausted, but they couldn’t afford to stop. Not now.

  With a jerk, the carriage pulled forward, trotting out the gates without protest.

  Beside her, she found her daughter dozing. The girl’s head rested against the wooden panel. It bounced lightly with the jostle of the carriage. The sight stirred something deep in Spice Merchant’s chest. Reaching over, she brushed the girl’s hair to the side of her face. “My precious child.”

  She leaned back with a heavy sigh. Fierce blue eyes flashed in her mind. If something happened to Nikolai because of her, Iliana’s soul would never forgive her.

  Her grey eyes sharpened, “Faster!”

  The carriage driver turned back, face grim with worry. “The animals won’t make it that far without rest, Mistress.”

  The Spice Merchant was no fool. She had traveled every road in the kingdom and ventured through every kind of foliage and terrain, all to carve her trade empire with blood and tears. She had not come this far to fail now.

  “Faster,” she repeated firmly. Her voice did not waver. “Do whatever you must. But we must reach him before dawn.”

  Grimacing, the carriage master forced a nod. Squaring his soldiers, he cracked the reins, urging the creatures into a gallop.

  The horses surged forward into the night, eager to comply.

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  “Excuse me?” snapped the Raven General.

  Behind her, even the masked man seemed to shift uneasily at Rufus’s explanation.

  The boy gulped.

  “Let me get this straight,” Faye began, eyes narrowing. “The courtesan you were looking for,“ she shook her head, voice laced with disbelief, “who turns out is not dead- Happens to have a sister who is also a courtesan at the Lucky Charm,” she paused to scrutinize the boy, “And she’s in love with Nikolai?”

  Rufus swallowed hard, “Yes, that… pretty much perfectly describes the entire situation.”

  Faye raised a skeptical brow. “And you want me to make her leave with her sister so that-“

  “So she doesn’t pose a threat to your marriage!” Rufus cut in, overly enthusiastic, as if his forced smile might sell the idea.

  But the Raven General didn’t look convinced, “Rufus, I’m sure many women are in love with my husband." She crossed her arms. "Are you suggesting I exile all of them? There won’t be many people left in the capital then.”

  The masked man choked audibly. When the two glanced at him, he coughed, waving a hand, as if to say, don’t mind me.

  “But this is different!” Rufus wracked his mind for a better argument, making it up as he went. “I’ve seen the lord at the Lucky Charm. He and Harmon have met! Many times!” His smirk was genuine this time. “He’s almost there as often as I am!”

  The masked man’s coughing fit grew more erratic

  “They’ve been meeting?” Faye’s interest was finally piqued. “Maybe they’re friends.”

  Rufus let out a scandalized guffaw. “Your husband secretly meets with courtesans and you think they’re merely friends?” He felt offended on her behalf. Shaking his head, his appalled expression said it all. “Have you forgotten that Harmon is madly in love with him?”

  Faye remained unimpressed.

  “I am constantly surrounded by ladies who remind me of how much better of a wife they’d make,” she listed off nonchalantly. “And I once went drinking with one who couldn’t stop professing her love for Nikolai every other sentence.”

  The masked man was holding his head, sighing deeply. The other two paid him no mind.

  Faye’s gaze hardened. “What makes this courtesan any different?”

  Rufus pondered the question.

  “Those ladies are all bound by rules and etiquette,” Rufus started, lowering his voice like he was sharing a dangerous secret. “That is why you don’t fear them.”

  Her expression darkened at his words.

  “But Harmon isn’t bound by such rules,” Rufus’ tone took on a warning note. “She’ll do anything for a chance to secure a position as the future Lady of Fledgrau. And she has his ear.” He raised an eyebrow, his tone taking on a coy note. “You’ve worked so hard to make Nikolai like you.” His words made the Raven General falter. “Why risk it, Faye?”

  “Enough,” the masked man stepped between the two of them.

  Rufus shivered at the cold glare sent his way, suddenly glad for the mask that hid the rest of the other's terrifying expression.

  “You’ve said plenty, Lord Langard,” he interrupted sharply. “I’ll be escorting the Raven General back now.”

  “I’ll do it,” Faye uncrossed her arms and stepped around her companion.

  Both men turned to her in shock.

  The woman placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  Rufus’ eyes lit up. “You will?” He clawed at her hand, trying to carefully pry her iron grip off. “I mean, yes, that’s a good call.”

  The grip tightened warningly, making the boy flinch.

  “If I find out you are lying to me, Rufus Langard,” his name rolled off her tongue in such a way that sent shivers down his spine. She did not need to finish her threat for her intentions to be made clear.

  Rufus shook his head hurriedly. “I’m not!”

  Releasing him, the general rolled her eyes. “Come along, Snowfox, I’ll need your help.”

  The masked man hesitated, looking unsure whether to argue or run.

  “Don’t tell me," Faye's amber orbs glinted. "Nikolai actually returns the courtesan’s feelings?“

  “No!” the masked man shot back instantly… but he raised both hands in surrender for some reason. Realizing what he'd done, he lowered them sheepishly. "Of course not."

  “Then it’s settled,” Faye declared, her decision final.

  With that, she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away. “Leave it to me!” she called. Tossing a look behind her shoulder, she nodded at the stunned boy. “I’ll deal with it, Rufus.”

  The young lord stood dumbstruck. He jerkily raised his hands to cup them by his mouth and hollered, “I’ll be here waiting!”