The Beauty of Darkness (The Remnant Chronicles 3)

“I sent the same message to Bodeen.”

By now Orrin and Jeb were both sitting up.

Sven sat back at the table and rested his head in his hands.

Orrin whistled at the staggering news.

I figured this was a good time to leave. Any more revelations, and Sven might burst a blood vessel. My decisions were made and there was no changing them now.

“Not a word to an

yone,” I said. “This isn’t an answer to all their problems. They need to remain earnest in their efforts.” I walked toward the door.

“Now where are you going?” Sven asked.

“First things first,” I said. As much as I hated to admit it, Kaden would be a critical part of the plan to save Morrighan. “I promised to make some peace.”

* * *

I checked his room. When he wasn’t there, I followed my next best guess, and I was right. I spotted him, one hand pressed to the wall, poised at the top of the stairs that led to the lowest level of the citadelle—where the prisoners were kept.

He stared down the dark stairwell so consumed by his thoughts he didn’t notice me at the end of the passageway.

He is Morrighese, I thought, just as Lia had claimed.

He was born from a line of nobility that went all the way back to Piers, one of the fiercest warriors of Morrighan lore. A Holy Guardian, Sven had called him. He had given me a brief history lesson the night before, when I noted my surprise at Kaden’s parentage. A statue of a muscled powerful Piers dominated the entrance to Piers Camp.

Kaden didn’t look powerful now. He looked beaten.

But last night—I swallowed, remembering how they looked together when I went to check on Lia during the night. I had seen his hand resting on her bed and her hand curled over his. Both of them were asleep, peaceful. I backed out of the room quietly so they wouldn’t see me. Maybe that was what had given me the courage to tell her the truth. I knew she didn’t love him in the same the way she did me. I had seen her eyes when she first saw me in the armory, and then the hurt when I told her about my betrothal, but she cared about Kaden too. They shared something that she and I didn’t—the roots of one kingdom and their love for another.

He still hadn’t noticed me. Instead he stared into the darkness and his hand absently fingered the sheathed dagger at his side, as if a scene was playing out in his head. I could imagine what it was.

I swallowed my pride and approached him. I had told Lia I had already made my peace with him. Now I actually had to do it.

CHAPTER SEVENTY

KADEN

I didn’t hear him coming until he was upon me. I startled and turned. “What do you want?” I asked.

“I’m here to talk about—”

I swung, catching him in the jaw, and he flew backward and fell, the sword buckled at his side clattering on the stone floor.

He slowly got to his feet, his expression livid, and he wiped the corner of his mouth, blood staining his fingertips. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Just preempting a shot from you. I seem to recall that the last time you snuck up on me wanting to talk, you punched me, then slammed me up against the barracks wall, accusing me of all kinds of delusional things.”

“Is this a preemptive strike or a payback?”

I shrugged. “Maybe both. What are you sneaking around for this time?”

He studied me, his chest heaving, rage sparking in his eyes. I knew he wanted to take a swing, but somehow he managed to keep his hands at his sides. “One, I wasn’t sneaking,” he finally said, “And two, the reason I came was to thank you for staying by Lia’s side.”

Thank me? “So you can take her back to Dalbreck now?”

The anger drained from his face. “Lia is never going back to Dalbreck with me.”