And just like that, something inside Robert shifted, not loudly. Not in a way anyone else in the castle could hear. But quietly, and decisively.
The kind of shift that does not turn back. His honour did not disappear completely, it bent under the weight of fear.
That night refused to release him. Each time he closed his eyes, the image returned. Fire. Wings. The sound of men screaming beneath a dragon's shadow. And himself, lying still, staring up at a man he once dismissed.
By the time dawn crept in, he was already awake. He had not rested. Just done pretending. He dressed without assistance. His hands moved with precision, though his thoughts were elsewhere. When he stepped into the corridor, the castle still carried the silence of early morning.
The throne room was empty when he entered. That suited him. He walked straight to the throne and sat.
For a whole time, he was still, and waiting. "Summon Lord William," he barked at the guard at watch. The guard bowed and left quickly, the sound of his footsteps fading down the stone passage.
Robert leaned back, but his body refused to relax. His fingers tapped once against the armrest, then stilled again. His gaze remained fixed ahead, though he was not seeing the hall. He was seeing the dream, over and over again.
Thirty minutes later, the doors opened, and William walked in, composed as always. He bowed. "Your Grace." His eyes lingered for a moment longer than usual. "You woke early."
Robert nodded, though the gesture carried a trace of unease. "I have considered your proposal." The words came slower than usual. Measured, and careful.
William said nothing. He simply waited.
"But I want it done, " Robert continued, "…in such a way that the people will not resent me."
That was the line he held onto. The last piece of himself he refused to let go. William nodded immediately. "As you wish, Your Grace." He stepped closer. "The Kenwools will bear the weight of it."
A pause.
"They will be seen as the ones who orchestrated it."
Robert's eyes flickered in understanding. He did not like how easily it made sense. But he nodded anyway. "I want him dead." The words came out harder now.
Colder.
"I want his unborn child destroyed." The room seemed to shrink around that sentence. But Robert did not stop. "Save the mother."
A breath.
"Edmond will never forgive me if I command the death of his sister."
William bowed his head. "Consider it done." His voice held no hesitation. "We will prepare everything within six months."
A small pause.
"And Lord Edmond will not be involved."
Robert exhaled. For the first time that morning, his shoulders dropped slightly. A faint smile appeared. "You have my blessing."
William bowed again, this time, it was lower. Then turned and left. The doors closed behind him. And just like that, it began.
Time moved forward in Cliffland. Unaware, and untouched by the danger in the air. At least on the surface.
The soldiers returned to their routines. Steel clashed in the training yards. Orders rang out. Discipline tightened. Strength rebuilt.
War still loomed. But for a while, it stayed at the edge of things.
Drexo changed in smaller ways. Quieter ones. He spent less time on the council. More time with Maria.
Maria moved slower now, and carefully. The weight she carried was no longer hidden. It showed in the way she walked. In the way she rested her hand over her stomach without thinking.
Drexo noticed everything. He stopped her from lifting anything heavier than a cup. Took things from her hands before she could protest. Sat beside her when she stood too long.
Sometimes he said nothing. He just stayed close. Other times, he brought her flowers. Not grand gestures. Just simple ones that he picked himself. He placed them in her hands with an awkward softness that did not quite match the man he was in battle.
There were moments he fed her quietly. Like it was something sacred. Something fragile. She would watch him.
Say nothing.
But her eyes softened. Months passed. Blending into one another. The seventh came. And with it, certainty.
Cliffland began to shift. The whispers turned into open joy. Lords arrived bearing gifts. Fine cloth. Gold. Tokens of loyalty wrapped in celebration. The idea of an heir settled into the walls.
Into the air. Even the council spoke differently. With more confidence. With something like hope.
Then came the week. The one that mattered. The one that would carry them to Ashford. Preparations began early. Orders were given. Ships readied, men assembled. Drexo stood at the center of it all, directing, approving, watching.
Everything moved. Everything aligned. Until Havana stood. Her voice cut through the motion.
"Your Grace." The room turned. "It is not customary for Cliffland to be left without a Ferran."
She paused, and measured.
"I will travel with my younger son, Connel." Her gaze did not waver. "But Cedric must remain."
Silence followed. Drexo considered it only for a moment. Then he nodded. "So be it."
No argument came afterward. The king has decided.
The next day, the seashore was alive..Armor gleamed under the light. Voices carried over the water. Ships stood ready. The army assembled, but Cedric stood apart.
Left behind, not by choice, but by duty. Maria's maiden warriors gathered near him. Helen at their front. Maria approached them slowly. Her presence still commanded attention. Even now.
"Half of you will remain and keep Cliffland safe." Her voice was steady. Helen bowed deeply. "We will."
No hesitation, no doubt. Maria moved closer. One by one, she embraced them. Then she whispered into Evelyn's ears. "Now you and Cedric have the castle to yourselves." Evelyn's eyebrows. "You knew?" She whispered. Maria smiled and nodded.
Then she turned, and walked toward the ships.
Drexo waited there, watching her. Always watching her. They boarded, one after the other. The final ropes were loosened.
"Move the ship!" The command echoed. The sails caught the wind. And slowly, they began to leave.
Cedric stood still, watching the ships go away. Until the ships grew distant. Until they blurred into the horizon. Only then did he turn.
Evelyn stood nearby. Their eyes met. A quiet understanding passed between them. No guards watching. No Havana. No barriers. A small smile formed between them.
Dangerous, careless, and human.
Out at sea, the world felt different. It was colder and quieter. Maria stood near the edge of the ship. The wind moved around her.
Soft, and constant. Then the doves came. White wings cutting through the sky. They circled her.
Once, twice, again. They had always brought her peace. A strange calm. A sign of something beyond her understanding.
But this time, It felt wrong. The air shifted. Subtle, and unseen. Her fingers tightened slightly against the railing.
Her eyes followed the birds. Their movement felt sharper.
Restless, not gentle. Not comforting, a warning. She exhaled slowly. But the feeling did not leave, it stayed, and settled deep into her.
Like something waiting just beyond reach. And for the first time since the journey began, Maria did not feel safe.
Drexo noticed it. "What is it? Why did your countenance change?" Maria stared at him. "I do not feel good about this journey anymore. I sense darkness."
Drexo smiled and walked closer to her, then kissed her. "Oh my dear! This must be another symptom of the pregnancy. Go inside and rest."
Maria nodded shakily. Then she walked past him into her room. Drexo watched her leave. Then he shook his head. "Pregnancy is truly a mystery. It can make even the greatest warrior afraid of nothing."