The day continued in a subdued manner - snow fell gently outside, covering Cliffhaven in a blanket of fresh white powder. Around the cliffs of Aegis, the violent waters of the sea broke angrily but the distant roll of the waves seemed to be calming. It was as though nothing could truly touch any of the inhabitants within, projecting security and calm. Perhaps, that was one of the reasons that the first Earl - now Duke - of Cliffhaven decided on this rocky straight. Unless one were to fly, there were few ways to reach the thick stone walls nor scale up to the walkways that surrounded the castle. Everything about the estate spoke of power, of defense, of a time gone by.
Back when Asterious was a simple kingdom with no claims to the great empire it claimed to be now, Cliffhaven had been an autonomous territory surviving against the dragons that flew in the sky. The first inhabitants learned to live off the waters and the rocky land, raising sturdy animals and crops, moving much of their production below ground. The territory had always been self-sufficient, a prominent landmass that controlled the western trade routes and that had pledged its allegiance and loyalty to the kings of Asterious once the dragon riders were born. Since the birth of the empire, Cliffhaven stood as a faithful protector not far from the old capital of Myralis.
Myralis was the alabaster city originally built for dragons - huge flat roofs, marble to protect from fire and space that all but the largest of drakes could be comfortable moving through the streets. There were places for the creatures to perch and rest, caves etched into the city’s infrastructure and hidden underneath. Legend has it that the eldest dragons still alive - those once bonded with the Flight - continued to exist in the labyrinth under the ancient city, sleeping upon their hoards of gold and diamonds. Few dared to see if there was truth and those who attempted to never returned, eaten or lost in the great expanse that stretched far beyond the city walls.
However, Myralis had another secret, one much more tangible and pleasant. In the hidden shadows of the ancient manors, in the house once belonging to some duke or another, stood a garden. The structure itself, once rich and impressive, had fallen into ruin after one of the heirs decided to abandon it and gamble the fortune away; instead however, Liam’s father had been unable to pass by the hidden gem of the garden. Within, made of the same marble as the city, were the most enchanting statues of animals and nymphs, surrounding a serene pond and covered with native flowers of the north. Under the shadows of the ancient apple trees, the garden transformed into a sacred mythical place.
Liam leaned against the parapet wall, looking out into the distance. Somewhere, following the rugged coast line, stood this mythical garden within the beautiful city that seemed to have been forgotten. History was cruel that way it seemed - it forgot the good, remembering only the bad and praising the rich. As Valadis was constructed, it seemed a shadow passed over Myralis’ reputation, tarnishing the city into oblivion. It lost its status, its importance and even the royal palace had remained mostly abandoned. Yet, for once, that was the appeal.
“What the hell are you doing up here, Li? It’s bloody freezing” Julius’ voice pulled the blonde back from his thoughts. Looking over at his friend, Liam sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I need you to fly North,” Liam told him, his eyes turning back to the waters and the endless horizon. The man’s voice was steady, but his chest tightened as he spoke. He trusted Julius—more than most—but sending him north felt like sending him into the lion’s den. What if the rebels didn’t talk? What if they had orders to kill? He pushed the thought aside. Doubt was a luxury he couldn’t afford. “We need to handle the rebels - negotiate or at the very least, meet with one.”
“You think they’ll talk?” Julius scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t usually negotiate with people who want my head on a spike, but hey, there’s a first time for everything.”
“I don’t know,” the lieutenant general confessed, his eyes focused on the foaming waves. “This attack - it’s too bold and too direct. I wonder if someone is using the rebellion as a scapegoat to push their agenda but unless they talk, it will be impossible to say.”
“Alistair would just order us to burn the place,” Julius leaned with his back against the stone wall, glancing over his shoulder at the icy sea. “And they know it - that’s why they hate the empire and all we stand for.”
“No, they hate what we all hate - war,” Liam responded, turning to look at his companion. “Remind me, how long has this Southern campaign been going on?”
“Ugh,” Julius blinked. “Seventy years?”
“Eighty two,” Liam corrected, turning his gaze back. “It is slowly depleting all our resources, all our people. You have been with me there the longest Jules - how many brave men have we lost? How many knights and dragons perished? That is why the original treaty of Argent was so important - a lifeline, full coffers, new forces.”
“A..um…gm,” Julius opened his mouth to make a joke before giving Liam an odd look and coughing into his fist.
“We aren’t talking about individuals - it’s the empire,” Liam shook his head. “Lys itself was never a major political power but it was always a rich neighbor, a proud one. The old king played his card very well - it was inevitable that Asterious would one day conquer Lys as it does with all else so why tempt fate? This way, his son could keep some influence and safety.”
“The rebels tried to kill Radi and Saskia,” Julius pointed out, sniffling with his nose. Unlike Liam, the islander was a lower of the warmth through and through. “Why do you think they did not try to sabotage the wedding?”
“It was too well planned, too well executed,” Liam let out a breathe, watching the cloud of white slowly fade as his mind replayed the events in the cathedral a few days ago. “They knew exactly who they were after and yet, if you step outside the rat nest, no one truly knows what the Emperor looks like, let alone the princess royal. So I wonder…who could it be.”
“When do you need me to leave?” Julius asked, tilting his head. “You’re right, it had an almost militaristic precision. Rebels - they're wildling, like shapeshifters. They’re unpredictable and driven by rage but they do not plan this meticulously.”
“Get what you need and go - no point in wasting time,” Liam pushed away from the stone, starting towards one of the watchtowers, Julius falling into stride beside him. “You won’t be needed here for a week at least - it seems both of our monarchs need time to recover.”
“She…” Julius didn’t finish the sentence, swallowing hard. Liam nodded silently and for a few steps, both men said nothing.
“Perhaps I will take her to Myralis,” Liam finally confessed, stopping just before the solid oak door solidified with iron and coated in anti flammable sap.
“Myralis? Why?” Julius scoffed.
“To give her something to fight for,” Liam shrugged, “You forget - she’s barely more than a child for all that she is the most powerful woman in Asterious, maybe the continent. She has suffered one tragedy after another and the worst thing we can do is let her lose herself to sorrow or worse, apathy.”
“I keep forgetting she’s younger than Nora,” Julius shook his head, his own expression darkening. “She’s only a few years older than Isabella.”
“Go get ready Jules,” Liam gripped the younger man’s shoulder in support before lowering his voice. “The rebellion isn’t just a nuisance anymore. If we can’t stop it now—diplomatically or otherwise—it could spiral into another front. The Empire won’t survive a war on two sides.”
“I…I won’t let you down Liam,” Julius gripped his friend’s shoulder in response before his face finally broke into his usual easy charm. “I always told you my charm would come in handy.”
“Try to come back alive,” Liam smirked slightly, amused.
“Not in one piece?” Julius asked, surprised.
“Your tongue they can keep,” the blonde responded in a serious tone before disappearing inside, leaving the younger man staring at his retreating back with a dropped jaw and large eyes.
The next hour seemed a blur - Julius knew how to pack light and yet, he found himself taking too long to get his things together, his mind constantly trying to stay focused on his mission and yet every time he looked at his bed, he couldn’t help but fantasize about his interrupted morning. Simultaneously horribly and thankfully interrupted morning. As much as he didn’t crave to leave the warmth of Cliffhaven and its library, this was much safer than staying in the castle where he was certain Eleanor Rhyddrech would claim what she wanted.
No, he smirked to himself, he’d likely just offer it to her on a silver platter. Maybe that’s what he should have done - tied a red ribbon around his neck as a bowtie and waited, naked, for her to come. Somehow, he had no doubt she would be back. And that made it all the more imperative that he left as soon as possible. Still, even as his mind urged him to go, his heart wanted one more stolen moment, one more dangerous game.
“Get yourself together, Carleone,” he chuckled, noticing that his gaze once again had drifted to the servant’s entrance. “It’s not like you’re going to marry the girl.”
Shaking his head, the man finally stuffed the last of his equipment into the saddle bags for his dragon, moving to his weapons, scowling as he picked up the shortswords that Liam gave him. He missed his curved scimitars with their elongated beauty and speed, lightweight and deadly. In comparison, the northern weapons felt clunky and heavy, weighing him down.
“Stupid rebels, couldn’t even give us the courtesy to take our weapons and a change of clothing,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for the book Nora had given him and freezing with confusion halfway to his bag. Why was he considering taking it with him?
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