Riftan’s hand tightened around Richard Breston’s skull, pressing it against the cold stone wall. “Are you acting on Heimdall’s orders?” he hissed.
Breston smirked as his red eyes met Riftan’s, goading him. “What do you think?”
Riftan yanked the man’s head back by the hair and shoved it against the stone again. Gently, he said, “You are testing my patience!”
“You bloody bastard-“
“Don’t forget, the bloody bastard is the one holding a knife to your neck,” Riftan said evenly, tracing the tip of his dagger beneath the bulge of the man’s throat and drawing a thin, crimson line.
Rage flared in Breston’s eyes, giving him the impression of a feral beast. Though the northerner seemed to have an unusually tight hold on his anger at the moment, Riftan knew the man would try to reverse the situation the moment the opportunity presented itself.
He sensed Breston shift under his grip, struggling against his restraints like an unruly warhorse.
Applying more pressure, Riftan pinned him against the wall. “Does Heimdall want to thrust Balto into the fires of war?” he said, his voice dropping to a growl. “Surely you cannot think that the other monarchs will stand for such treachery.”
“How naive you are, Calypse,” Breston sneered, lips twisting into a vicious crocodile smile. “Even if your accusations are true, do you truly think the other monarchs would agree to try the King of the North? Heimdall Rune Valdemar is a seated member of the Council. No one can level an accusation against him without evidence.”
When Riftan did not respond, Breston continued, “And if the others already had this evidence, you wouldn’t be threatening me right now, would you?”
Riftan stared down at the man’s smug face. Though every fiber of his being longed to hurt the bastard simply to see him scared, reason kept him in check. He narrowed his eyes. Ending this traitor’s life right now would certainly provide momentary pleasure, but it would also disrupt the long-awaited gathering of the Council of the Seven Kingdoms – talks that had been three years in the making.
Heimdall VI would use the murder of his vassal in the heart of the basilica to pressure the pope. No doubt he would also plant spies throughout the Seven Kingdoms under the guise of hunting down the killer. And in response, the Basilica of Osiriya would be forced to take a firm stance.
Riftan gritted his teeth. He would not jeopardize the already precarious armistice over this fool’s antics.
As if reading his thoughts, Breston’s smile turned smug. “Now that you know your threats are in vain, why not put that dagger away?”
Suppressing his boiling rage, Riftan released his grip on the man. Breston swiftly distanced himself and glared back with unbridled hatred. Readying to block an attack, Riftan shifted his grip on his weapon. Yet, to his surprise, the northerner remained motionless.
Breston eventually gave a low chuckle. “I intend to challenge you to a duel soon enough, so I shall bide my time until then. You’d be surprised by how patient I can be.”
A sinister smile played on his lips as he stalked past.
Riftan watched him go in silence before descending the stairs to the left of the corridor. He entered the cloister adjacent to the garden, where he found Hebaron Nirtha leaning on the staircase railing.
The burly knight gave a heavy sigh. “It’s quite unlike you to poke a sleeping bear, Commander.”
“But it is like me to give a clear warning,” Riftan replied, striding past his subordinate. “They will act with more caution now, which will afford us more time.”
Hebaron followed him. “But by doing so, you’ve given those northern rabble-rousers a chance to destroy any evidence.”
“Have you forgotten that the ruler of Balto is one of them?” Spotting a group of clerics crossing the garden, Riftan lowered his voice. “Even if we had definitive evidence, this matter would require discretion. The armistice is a delicate agreement between the rulers of the Seven Kingdoms. If any of them were to abandon it, the armistice would be in peril. For now, pressuring them privately to give up their plans is our best option.”
“You could have been more cautious. That man is dangerous. He’s ruthless and cunning, a master manipulator. What good will it do to antagonize him further?”
Riftan halted at a wind-battered corner of the garden and turned to look at his second-in-command. When he met Hebaron’s calm gaze, his seething emotions dissipated.
Until then, Riftan had been certain he had kept a cool head in his run-in with Richard Breston. He now realized his rage had gotten the better of him. He had failed to suppress his impulsive desire to root out the seeds of conflict right then and there, fair trial be damned.
As if discerning the true motive behind his commander’s rash actions, Hebaron said bluntly, “Why not explain everything to her ladyship and ask for her understanding?”
Riftan shot him an icy glare. “Stay out of this.”
“Isn’t she the cause of your unease?” Hebaron clicked his tongue, adding, “She might lose all affection for you. What will happen then?”
“Then she will return to the Mage Tower,” Riftan replied numbly.
Hebaron stopped to stare at him. “You truly intend to send her away?”
“It is for the best.”
Hebaron’s mouth opened wide to retort, but Riftan did not give him a chance. He strode out of the cloister, making his way to the quarters assigned to the Remdragon Knights. He had chosen to stay with his men instead of taking up Princess Agnes’s offer of the opulent residence reserved for nobles. It was not out of humility but rather the knowledge that he would feel nothing but misery lying alone in a large, extravagant bed.
Suppressing his simmering frustration, he cut across the bustling courtyard filled with clerics. Without warning, his wife’s resentful gaze flashed through his mind, along with the memory of her shy smile.
Riftan shut his eyes tightly. He would willingly bear her resentment if it meant protecting her from the chaos and danger surrounding him.
***
The splitting of war spoils was a far more tedious and messy affair than anticipated. Attending the negotiation were the five rulers of the coalition, including the pope. The commanding officers, high- ranking knights, and any nobles with the right to vote also gathered in the council chamber.
It took hours just for each party to say their piece. Maxi was exhausted as she sat staring at her knees, waiting for her turn to speak. When it finally did come, she was given no more than five minutes to explain the contributions of the mages in the rear support unit. No one truly paid attention to her. They were all too busy inflating their own achievements. Even the Arexian forces, with their insubordination during the final clash, were no exception.
Maxi was sick of it. After the first negotiation, she was required to attend two more. When the other sessions ended with no decisions made, she announced she would stop attending them altogether. If she were being honest, it was not the squabbles of the nobles that she found hard to endure – it was being forced to watch Riftan next to Princess Agnes.
Rubbing her sore eyes, Maxi gazed at the purple sky through the window. Simply seeing Riftan’s expressionless face from afar made her heart ache with anguish. Sometimes, it was anger. She desperately wanted to ask him how he could remain so detached.
The unfortunate reality was that her hope for their relationship was slowly fading.
“Will you really not consider returning to the Tower with us?”
Roused from her depressing thoughts, Maxi swiveled her head.
Anette, who had been jotting something onto parchment at a desk, was looking at her with a serious expression. “Armin and I will depart for the Tower in a few days with Master Celric. Would it not be best for you to come with us?”
Maxi went blank for a moment, not knowing how to respond. “B- But the negotiations have yet to end.”
“Master Calto and the other senior mages will remain. It was decided that some of us should return quietly to share our findings.”
After making sure the ink was dry, Anette rolled up the parchment and sealed it with wax. Sighing, she placed the scroll on top of an existing pile on the desk.
“Do give it serious thought. I’d hate to see you lose the opportunity to hone your talents because you’re busy pining over a man who cares little for you.”
Maxi angrily opened her mouth to argue, but no words came. She flushed. Did the others also consider her so pitifully? After biting her lip, she managed to stammer out, “Y-You don’t know… how passionate and devoted a husband Riftan used to be. I am certain… th-there is a reason for his behavior.”
“And what would that be?” Anette asked, exasperated.
Anger rose in Maxi’s chest. “H-He has not given me a clear explanation, but I’m certain it’s for my-”
“Max! Come look at this!”
Her attempt at an excuse was cut short by Sidina bursting into the room. Maxi stared at the girl in surprise, then at the bundle of magnificent gowns in her arms.
Sidina’s eyes glinted with excitement as she laid them on the bed one by one.
“You will be attending the banquet with me tonight.”
