Chapter 67


    A Cracked Mask


    The story of Femira and Landryn’s battle against the kragal had spread back to Epilas, along with the efforts the team had taken to clear out the Kragling nests along the Tidewall. At the docks was a fanfare of cheering townsfolk as the pair stepped off the ferry. Also waiting at the dock was a sleek black lacquered carriage.


    Garld stood by the carriage amongst a few other soldiers in bloodshedder uniforms. There were a few nobles also in the vicinity, applauding Landryn’s victory against the monsters of the tidewall. Notably present was Lady Rhianne—Averstock’s daughter—that Femira recognised. She was waiting alongside Garld for them to approach.


    Landryn frowned as they approached, glancing at Femira. She hadn’t liked Rhianne the last time she’d met her. What is she even doing here? The woman had been openly flirtatious with Landryn that night at the feast and Femira wasn’t sure what the relationship between the two was. She and Landryn hadn’t spoken about it at all. Their conversations tended to revolve around the kraglings—particularly on how to hunt and kill them, theorising where they were coming from and how to stop the spread. They’d spoken at length of Landryn’s plans to propose an excursion party to the north to the War Council. An excursion party that he would lead and Femira would be part of. Together they’d made plans to cleanse the lands of the monsters that threatened the people who couldn’t defend themselves. It was grand ideals and Femira exalted at the prospect of using her abilities for such a magnanimous cause.


    Femira recognised in her the emotion she was feeling when she spotted Rhianne. It was jealousy. She was emotionally mature enough to call a spade a spade on this one. While she and Landryn had never had any kind of romantic relationship up to this point, she couldn’t help but feel drawn to him in that way. It was beyond how he looked, the man was undeniably handsome. But it was in the way that he carried himself, his confidence in his skills yet his almost awkward tendencies in conversation. It was the way that he held her gaze as he spoke. How he’d held on the cliffs after the battle with Kragal, reassuring and comforting her. That wasn’t compassion between comrades. There was something more there, she could feel it.


    “Landryn,” Rhianne beamed when she saw him. She did not rush to him, but took steps towards an embrace that Landryn took her in. Femira smothered the flare of resentment in her at the sight and instead saluted to Garld. Who responded with an approving nod and a kindly smile.


    “The stories of your deeds have preceded you both,” Garld praised, “tales of Prince Landryn Tredain and Annali Jahar fighting monsters have been fast spreading through the city.” Femira detected an element of teasing in Garld’s words. He was enjoying this. She knew that the relationship between the man and Landryn was a strange one. There was a strict formality at times with Landryn being Garld’s commander. But Garld had been Landryn’s swordsmaster and tutor for most of the Prince’s life and there was the same aura of fatherly appraise in Garld’s manner towards Landryn.


    “The work is not yet done,” Landryn said, removing himself from Rhianne’s embrace, “there is much that we need to discuss with the War Council.”


    “Surely that can wait?” Rhianne said softly, “you’re just home.” As it often was with the highborn, Femira felt like a spectator, hanging on the fringes of conversations. But she was more than just Vreth now. She had fought alongside Landryn Tredain as an equal. She’d battled—and defeated—monsters. She was a fucking hero.


    “I don’t think we have time to wait,” Femira spoke up, pulling the attention of both Rhianne and Garld. Rhianne looked at her with disapproval evident on her face and Garld ‘s laced with surprise. She knew that Garld was her General but surely Landryn’s authority was more important. If Landryn wanted her with him on his hunting parties, then Garld wouldn’t refuse it.


    “We believe there may be more of them,” Femira said, “we need to act quickly.” It was what she and Landryn had discussed on the ferry. They knew that together they would need to convince the War Council of the importance of this task. It wasn’t as though Femira had any sway with the Generals, she barely knew most of their names. But she was one of the few people in Reldon who had actually fought against the creatures. And she was soulforged—that had to count for something.


    “You would not deny your wife’s request, my love?” Rhianne looked back at Landryn, stroking his face with a tender hand. The statement crashed into Femira like a rock to the face. His what?


    “Of course not,” Landryn replied, gently removing her hand from his cheek, “we will have time together before we meet with the War Council.”


    His fucking wife?!


    “We should return to the Palace,” she heard Garld say but Femira’s mind started rushing through all the conversations that she and Landryn had had. He never once mentioned that he was married! Not once!


    “There are many other matters to discuss,” Garld continued, “Annali, I will get a debrief from you on the way.”


    She recounted Aden’s lessons on the Reldoni highborn and royalty. All those long lists of names, along who was married to whom. How had she missed that Landryn was married? It was his older brother, Lukane that was married. Daegan, the younger one was too—wasn’t he? Fuck. Had she gotten them mixed up on the list? Those lessons had been before she’d met Landryn before she could put any faces to those names. How had she been so oblivious to miss that?


    “Annali?” Garld prodded her, his face looking concerned. Shit, what had he asked?


    “S-sorry, sir,” she shook her head to clear away the rambling thoughts, “what was that?”


    “Selyn Caul,” Garld said, evidently repeating himself, “I’ll need an account of how she died. You can tell me on the way.”


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Selyn and Drad. Their faces shoved their way into her mind and she felt her visage crack, her stomach tightening.


    “Perhaps, I will do that,” Landryn said, stepping up beside Femira, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She didn’t want his hand there. It wasn’t his place to comfort her. But she also didn’t make any move to remove it.


    “I will write up an account,” Landryn explained, “for the bloodshedders’ records. As for Selyn and Drad’s families… I will arrange to visit them personally. They deserve that respect.”


    “Of course, my lord,” Garld nodded, decorously.


    “Drad was Ferath’s cousin,” Landryn mused sadly, “I must write a letter for him also.”


    There was an abrupt shift in the body language of both Garld and Rhianne. Garld’s face stiffened and Rhianne’s expression broke into anguish.


    “What is it?” Landryn asked, his gaze flicking between the pair.


    “Oh, my dear—” Rhianne started, her eyes becoming glassy, “I wasn’t going to bring this up here but—”


    “—We should talk about this back at the Palace, my lord,” Garld interjected, his face showing concern.


    “I’m so sorry,” Rhianne continued on as if Garld hadn’t cut over her. “It’s so tragic,” she choked back a painfully fake sob. Femira felt her chest tighten. This was it, Rhianne was going to tell him. A part of her was terrified that she would be outed for knowing about it the entire time and hiding the truth from Landryn. But then again, he’d been lying to her too.


    “What is it?” Landryn asked, maintaining his composure but his eyes betraying his concern, “Is it Allyn?”


    “It’s your brother,” Rhianne whimpered.


    “Let us discuss this away from here,” Garld leaned forward, his gaze flicking to the surrounding highborn.


    “What’s happened? Is it Daegan?!”


    “Oh my love,” Rhianne’s tears were now flowing freely, “I’m so sorry that I have to be the one to tell you this. Your brother has been murdered.”


    The breeze vanished and all sound hushed. Femira could feel the stillness that dropped over the docks as tangible as if she could touch it. Femira could recognise Landryn’s air bubble now by familiarity, but it was different this time. It was eerily still, like he was forcing the air to stagnate around him. She could feel his edir lock into place. Outwardly he showed no signs of anguish on his face. But his edir alone was enough to show this. She could see from averting eyes of the highborn, the awkward shuffling and bated breaths that they all knew already.


    Rhianne watched her husband with expectant eyes. She knew that information would hurt him. And she’d chosen to deliver it here, she’d wanted him to have an audience for his grief.


    Garld’s face was a mask of pain, he reached forward and placed a reassuring grip on Landryn’s shoulder. “Come, let us go to the Palace,” Garld urged..


    “Who?” Landryn asked, there was an icy edge to his tone.


    “It was—” Rhianne started.


    “—That is enough!” Garld growled to the woman who recoiled at the vehemence in his tone, then turned to Landryn. “My lord,” Garld said in a quick yet controlled manner, “this is not the place to discuss this. Please, I will tell you everything back at the palace.”


    He gestured to the open carriage door. Landryn looked at it, then back at Garld. His eyes didn’t shift to Femira or Rhianne, or any of the watching nobles and soldiers. Wordlessly, he stepped up into the carriage and was followed swiftly by Rhianne behind him. Garld stepped towards it and placed a hand on the cabin door before Rhianne could close it after her. “I will be accompanying you. The Prince will need military counsel at this time.”


    “My husband needs time to process this,” Rhianne seethed, “he needs me.”


    “He does not have the luxury of time,” Garld affirmed, then turned his head back to Femira.


    “Follow us to the palace,” he told her, “there is a lot we need to discuss,”then pulled himself into the carriage, pulling the door shut behind him.


    Femira watched, her mouth agape as the horses pulled the carriage off towards the Pillar. There was a murmur spreading through the highborn and Femira fixed them with glare. They quickly dispersed, heading in the direction of the Pillar. She recognised some of the soldiers that had been accompanying Garld. Some she knew were soulforged. They looked at her now with… deference? She’d take that over the borderline hostility they’d shown her prior to becoming soulforged.


    “Is it true?” One of the soldiers—Tobias, was his name if she recalled correctly—worked up the courage to approach her, “people are saying you fought one of the Fomori, like a real one?” Tobias had been on the corsair hunting mission with her a few weeks back. She’d not talked much to him as he’d been on one of the other teams. He was a soulforged stonebreaker like her.


    She’d never found the Reldoni to be particularly religious people. They had temples and there would be people passing through them, but they didn’t blather on about the gods and demons the way that some other nations did. A lot of them did seem to put a lot of stock into the stories of the Fomori.


    “I can’t say I know exactly what a Fomori is,” she shrugged in response, “but it was a monster… and it was big.”


    “People are saying it was as big as a trading ship,” Tobias said, with a hint of reverence.


    “I suppose yeah,” Femira looked back at the ferry that had taken her and Landryn across the bay, “Not as big as that,” she pointed, “but almost.”


    “How?” the man gaped, “that’s enormous, how do you defeat something like that?”


    “I dropped a cliff on it,” she said nonchalantly, “say, you wouldn’t know where Aden is?”


    “I’ve not seen him since his soulforging ritual,” Tobias replied, “but—hang on—you dropped an actual cliff on it?!” he added incredulously.


    “Well it was more like an arch, but back on Aden. His ritual should’ve been weeks ago, surely he’s recovered by now?”


    “This happens sometimes,” Tobias noted, “General Garld will send newly soulforged on assignment immediately after the change.”


    “That doesn’t make any sense,” Femira scrunched up her nose, “you need at least a few days to recover, and then a few more to adjust to your new edir senses.” She also didn’t think that Aden would leave on assignment without leaving any message for her.


    She thought about checking in with Jaz or Misandrei to see if they knew anything about it but then remembered that they too were on assignment. Where is everyone? Misandrei and Jaz were in Rubane she was quite sure. Endrin and Loreli too. There were other bloodshedders that she could spar with in their absence, but a part of her really just wanted a distraction from thinking about Landryn and Rhianne. Don’t fool yourself. You’re avoiding thinking about Selyn and Drad. She shoved the thoughts aside. Nope. Now was not the time for that.


    Garld had wanted her to follow to the Palace so that’s what she’d do.