Page 15 of The Curse Between Us

Edric rested his forearms on the parapet, gazing towards the distant mountains. The sun was slowly sinking off to his left, casting scarlet rays that gradually faded to soft rose and gold as they streaked through the sky, reflecting off the peaks in a breathtaking display of color. The last light of day touched everything, painting the snow-covered landscape with a gentle, ethereal glow. But beyond those mountains, Edric knew, his husband was likely standing in a similar place, gazing out on the same snow-covered expanse of Eskarven, the final brilliant beams of light sparkling over the frozen river that wound its way through the valley.

A deep sigh escaped him, and he sank lower into his pose, his arms folding against the cold stone. The ache in his chest grew sharper, more intense, as it had for the past few days. The absence of Zephyr was a physical weight, a constant reminder that they were far apart, separated not just by distance but by duty. It had only been a week since he had left Eskarven, but the time seemed to stretch out endlessly, as though each day without him was a year in itself. He missed him with a fierce ache that startled him with its intensity, the kind of longing that gnawed at him in the quiet moments, when his mind wandered and he found himself imagining the warmth of Zephyr’s touch, the sound of his voice, the simple joy of sharing a space together.

"Your Majesty?"

The voice from behind startled him, pulling him out of his thoughts. Edric turned, shaking off the melancholy that had threatened to consume him, and saw a guard standing hesitantly on the stairs leading to the parapet. She was a young woman, one he did not recognize, and her posture suggested uncertainty.

"Yes?" Edric asked, offering a polite smile as he straightened up, attempting to regain some of his composure.

"Your meeting with Lady Hadley, my lord. At sundown?" she asked, her voice a little more confident now that she had his attention.

Edric pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Yes, of course," he replied, though the thought of another meeting, another discussion about the future of his kingdom, was the last thing on his mind at that moment. Still, he managed a polite smile, nodding toward the guard. "Thank you. I will be along shortly."

The guard smiled back, but in her haste to retreat, she nearly tripped over her own feet. Edric caught himself just in time to suppress a laugh. Without thinking, he stepped forward, steadying her by the shoulder and ensuring she regained her balance. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she accepted his help, offering a grateful smile as she straightened up.

"No harm done," Edric said with a soft chuckle. Together, they walked back down into the castle, Edric casting one wistful glance over his shoulder at the distant mountains before turning away to face the business at hand.

Lady Hadley was waiting for him in one of the smaller, more comfortable audience chambers, a quiet space where important matters could be discussed without the distractions of formal court proceedings. She rose as he entered, offering a small but graceful curtsy. "Your Majesty."

"My lady," Edric replied, returning the gesture with a bow, and gestured for her to take a seat as two attendants quietly poured them each a glass of apple wine. The room was dimly lit, the shadows of the evening stretching long over the walls, creating a comfortable atmosphere that helped ease Edric’s mind, if only for a moment. "I trust you are well?"

"Indeed." Hadley raised her glass to her lips and took a sip, never breaking eye contact with him. "And you?"

Edric felt the weight of her gaze, and for a brief moment, his usual polite reply faltered. There was something in her tone—something knowing—that made him hesitate. "I am physically recovered from my brief illness," he said instead, his voice quieter than before. "But otherwise—"

"I am sorry for the difficulties of your situation," she said softly, her voice a touch gentler than usual. "Perhaps a distraction will help?"

"Perhaps." Edric leaned forward, setting his glass aside. He could feel the conversation about to take a more serious turn. "Did you have something particular in mind?"

Hadley smiled, as if she had anticipated the question. "Yes. We need to discuss the way forward for Rafria and its people."

Edric tensed for a moment, instinctively bracing himself, but forced himself to relax. Hadley, as High Priestess, held a position nearly equal to his own in the kingdom. More than that, she was wise, subtle, and deeply devoted to Rafria's welfare. He knew he could trust her judgment, even when the matters at hand were complex and difficult.

"You have my attention," he said, his tone both respectful and attentive.

Hadley paused, her eyes thoughtful as she took another sip of her wine. "You can feel it, can’t you? The expectation in the air? The sense of the kingdom holding its collective breath, waiting to exhale?" she asked, her voice calm, but there was an undeniable weight to her words.

Edric nodded slowly. "Yes." He leaned back in his chair, trying to push away the feeling of unease that had been gnawing at him for days. "It’s as though we are all dreaming, and we know that any minute we might wake up."

Hadley shook her head, a slight frown forming on her lips. "But it is not a dream. And it is time we accepted that, and dealt with it."

Edric furrowed his brow, but then nodded in reluctant agreement. "We have made our visit to Eskarven," he said, keeping his voice even. "And they have done the same. The boldest among our merchants have already begun to cross the mountains. What else do you suggest we do?"

Hadley’s expression grew more serious, and she sat up straighter, clearly prepared to share her thoughts. "There are many others to consider, but I believe we ought to begin with the soldiers."

Edric instinctively glanced upwards toward the offices where Alec and Herbert, his two trusted military advisors, were likely tucked away. They had been adamant about maintaining the strength of Rafria's military, and so far, there had been no mention of disbanding the army. They continued to train the guards and soldiers every day. He met Hadley’s gaze. "Go on," he said, his curiosity piqued.

Hadley shifted slightly, her hands folding neatly in her lap. "The temple has long suffered due to the war," she said bluntly, her voice carrying a quiet authority. "It used to be a place of contemplation, of community, of sanctuary to those who needed it. But over the years, those who might have considered joining the ranks of its attendants have found themselves serving in the army instead."

Edric’s mind immediately grasped the logic behind her words. Under his father’s rule, Rafria had become more militarized than ever. He knew better than most how deeply his father had been invested in the war effort, and how many other areas of the kingdom had suffered as a result.

"And now you wish to see them serve in the temple instead?" Edric asked, raising one eyebrow.

Hadley shook her head quickly, her voice firm. "Only those who wish it," she said. "We have won not only peace, Your Majesty, but a measure of freedom. I believe some of the soldiers will find surprising common ground in temple life—the community, the structure, and even,"—she paused with a glimmer of humor in her eyes—"the hierarchy."

Edric let out a laugh at the suggestion, the tension in his chest easing for a moment. "You make a convincing argument. But I believe this is something that must be first discussed with my brother, and then with the soldiers on an individual basis."

Hadley smiled, pleased with his response. "Of course," she agreed, rising to her feet. "I merely wished to plant the idea in your mind. We have many people to tend to in this time of change, Your Majesty."

Edric stood as well, bowing formally. "Thank you for your counsel," he said, his voice sincere. "As always, I welcome and appreciate it."

Hadley smirked slightly. "I doubt that," she replied dryly. "But even kings must be humbled on occasion." She curtsied again, then swept out of the room with a rustle of her skirts, leaving Edric to his thoughts.

Sitting back down, Edric took another sip of his wine, the conversation playing over in his mind. It would be good to see the temple restored to its former glory, to provide the kingdom with a sense of unity and purpose. He had never known the temple as a place of peace, having grown up with the constant shadow of war. And Hadley made an excellent point: Rafria had many soldiers in need of new opportunities, but that was a conversation he would need to have with Alec first. He knew well enough that his brother would resent any intrusion into the running of the army without proper consultation.

Edric stood and wrote a swift note, summoning an attendant with a wave of his hand. "Please deliver this to Prince Alec," he instructed. "Thank you."

As the attendant left the room, Edric glanced out the window. It was already full dark, and he realized there was little time left for much more to be done that night. But tomorrow, he vowed, he would begin anew. His kingdom was changing, and so were his responsibilities. Perhaps if he buried himself in the work of helping his people adapt to their new circumstances, he could ease the ache that lingered in his chest every time he thought of Zephyr’s face.

◆◆◆

“I received your note,” Alec said briskly, striding into Edric’s chambers the next morning, his boots clicking sharply against the stone floor. “You wished to speak to me?”

Edric stood up from the desk, stretching his arms above his head, trying to shake off the lingering fatigue from another restless night. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a soft, golden glow through the windows, and he glanced outside for a moment, letting the warmth of the morning light soothe him. “I did,” he said, his tone a little more reflective than usual. He caught the glimmer of sunlight dancing off the stone walls, and for a brief moment, it almost felt like everything might be alright. But the thought of his brother, his kingdom, and all the change weighing on him kept gnawing at him. “Will you take a walk to the market with me?”

Alec raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “What do you need at the market that you cannot have fetched for you?”

Edric shook his head, his voice taking on a pleading note that was unusual for him. “Please. Trust me.”

Alec sighed deeply, rolling his shoulders as he tied his long hair back with the leather strip he always kept on his wrist. He had no love for ceremonial pomp, preferring things to be straightforward and to the point, but there was something in Edric’s tone that made him pause. “Very well,” he said, though his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

As they exited the castle through the southern gate, Marsh and Eileen followed at a respectful distance, giving the brothers enough privacy to converse without an audience. But their presence was still enough to keep Edric's thoughts slightly guarded. Alec broke the silence first, his voice low as they began walking down the road toward the town.

“What is this about?” Alec asked, glancing sideways at Edric, his brow furrowing with the same suspicion he had been carrying since Edric’s sudden request to leave the castle.

Edric gave him a sideways glance, offering a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know,” he said, his tone apologetic. “I’m acting strange. I promise, I’ll explain soon enough. I just wanted to be outside the castle for a moment. It’s been... too much inside lately.”

Alec’s frown deepened as he studied his brother, but he didn’t push further. They continued walking in silence, the sound of their boots crunching over the gravel path the only noise between them. Edric could feel the weight of his brother’s curiosity hanging in the air, but it wasn’t until they entered the bustling market square that Alec finally spoke again.

As soon as they stepped into the square, the vibrant sights and sounds of the market hit them—a cacophony of voices haggling over goods, the colorful displays of vegetables, meats, and fabrics, the smells of freshly baked bread and roasted meats filling the air. It was a far cry from the quiet, tense halls of the castle. The energy here was alive, palpable.

Alec rounded on him the moment they were inside the square. “Explain,” he demanded, his eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms.

Edric, though taken aback by the suddenness of his brother’s demand, took a deep breath and gestured around them. “Look around you,” he said, sweeping his hand out to indicate the market in full swing. “What do you see?”

Alec’s eyes narrowed, but he obliged, taking in the scene before him. “I see the market,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “people selling their wares, trading goods, and conversing. What’s your point?”

“Precisely.” Edric smiled slightly, his tone turning more earnest. “This is Rafria, Alec. All these people, and so many more. In some ways, their lives have changed very little since we ended the war. But in others…” He trailed off, his voice quieting as he observed the merchants and townsfolk chatting easily with one another, their faces bright with smiles. “There’s more joy in the air, can you feel it? There’s no need to bargain for a better price on grain, always wondering if your supplies will run out because we’re besieged. No need to visit the blacksmith for new weapons to hide in case of an invasion.”

Alec, still tense, seemed to consider this for a moment. Slowly, his posture softened, and he nodded. “Yes. I can feel it.”

Edric nodded with a satisfied look, but as they continued walking through the market, a thought crossed his mind. His eyes caught the attention of a pretty girl at a nearby stall, and he winked at her with a mischievous smile. The girl blushed and quickly looked away, and Edric chuckled to himself as he guided Alec by the elbow through the crowd.

“And when you’re on the training grounds with your troops, do you feel joy there too?” Edric asked, keeping his tone light but probing.

Alec stiffened at the question, then whirled around to glare at Edric. “Edric—” he began, his voice low and warning.

Edric held up his hands, stepping back in apology. “Please, Alec. Just listen to me.”

Alec’s jaw tightened, but after a long pause, he finally gave a reluctant nod, signaling for Edric to continue.

“We have far more soldiers than we have need for now,” Edric said carefully, his voice neutral. “Many of them have never known any other life, but now is their chance to do so.” He felt a lump form in his throat, thinking of the countless battles his brother had fought, the times when he’d feared for Alec’s safety. “I’m asking you to consult with them, to find out their wishes. If they want to stay, good. If they don’t…” He shrugged lightly. “Help them find their joy.”

Alec’s expression softened, his voice quieter as he acknowledged the truth of Edric’s words. “I know. We’ve discussed this before, Edric.”

Edric shook his head, determination hardening his features. “Not in enough detail. We can’t go on pretending nothing has changed. We can’t keep looking over our shoulders like we’re waiting for the treaty to be broken. It’s a lack of faith in what we’ve accomplished.”

Alec considered this for a long moment, giving Edric a slow, sidelong glance. “True,” he finally admitted. “So what are you suggesting?”

Edric looked at him intently. “You know the troops better than anyone. You’ve seen them grow, trained them, fought alongside them. I’m asking you to find out where their hearts truly lie. Some of them will want to stay, yes. But others will not. And that’s where we need to step in.”

Alec hesitated, but then nodded. “Of course,” he said quietly. “I’ll speak to them. I’ll get a sense of where their minds are. But…” He looked away, swallowing roughly. “What about me, Edric?”

Edric felt his stomach drop. It was time to address the real question, the one that had been hanging between them for days. “And you?” he asked softly. “Where will you find your joy, Alec?”

Alec stumbled slightly, then came to an abrupt halt. Edric, sensing the shift, guided him to a quieter street, away from the bustle of the market. “Are you dismissing me?” Alec asked, his voice strained and hoarse. “Is that what this is about? You wish to disband the army and remove me from my position?”

Edric cursed himself for his clumsiness. He reached out and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, trying to steady both of them. “No,” he said firmly. “Not at all.” He exhaled sharply, letting his breath escape in a rush. “I had an interesting conversation with Hadley last night.”

Alec blinked, confused. “I don’t follow.”

Edric stood there for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before speaking again. “Do you remember when you were about seven?” he asked, his tone quiet and introspective. “You told me about how you saw your future?”

Alec’s expression flickered, and he shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “No,” he said, but there was a trace of humor in his voice. “But I sense you’re about to remind me.”

Edric smiled slightly, despite the seriousness of the conversation. He nudged his brother gently with his shoulder. “Indeed. You told me you wanted to devote yourself to the study of ancient texts, to become a priest. Perhaps even the High Priest one day.”

Alec’s face shifted, his gaze falling to the cobblestones beneath them, his voice softening. “That was a long time ago.”

“I know,” Edric said gently. “Within two years, you were training with the soldiers every day. When you turned thirteen and were already taller than me, Father was so pleased. An heir and a commander, he said.”

Alec let out a bitter laugh. “I remember. I was so proud to have pleased him.”

Edric’s voice softened further. “But what of yourself, Alec?” He reached out, laying a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You’ve worked wonders—not just on the battlefield, but behind the scenes with Herbert. You helped bring us to this point, to this alliance. But now that we’ve achieved peace, is this truly what you want for yourself? What is a general without a war?”

Alec remained silent for a long time, his eyes locked on the ground. Finally, he looked up, meeting Edric’s eyes with a rueful smile. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been trying to answer that question for a while now.”

Edric took a deep breath, knowing this was only the beginning of a long journey for both of them. “Hadley told me yesterday that the temple lacks attendants,” he continued. “It has fallen from its former glory. She believes some of the soldiers might find peace within its walls. Might you be one of them?”

Alec shook his head slowly. “I do not know,” he repeated. For a moment, his face softened, and he seemed a mere youth again, lost in thought. “It was a childish dream that I was forced to grow out of. And I do not regret the years I have spent leading our armies.”

“Nor should you,” Edric said swiftly, his voice firm. “That is not at all what I am suggesting. You have done your duty, and you have done it well.” He paused for a moment, hesitating as he carefully chose his next words. “But, Alec—” He let the sentence hang in the air. “You have been forced to make difficult choices. To bear the burden of responsibility.”

“Yes.” Alec’s eyes darkened with a touch of something unreadable, a shadow passing over his usually steady expression. “And sometimes, I have frightened myself with the choices I have made. The things I have said or done.”

They fell silent for a moment, the weight of their shared history hanging heavily between them. Edric knew they were both thinking back to that argument at Zephyr’s bedside—the coldness with which Alec had approached the situation, the dispassionate nature of his concern. It had been one of those moments where Edric had seen his brother’s distance in the most striking light, the walls Alec had built around himself so thick, even the pain of his own family couldn’t break through.

“It would be a welcome relief, to walk away from those burdens,” Alec said after a while, his voice quieter, softer. “Though I do not think I could easily give up all responsibility.”

“No,” Edric agreed, giving him a wry smile. “Your shoulders are far too broad to be wasted.”

Laughing, Alec shook his head, brushing the thought aside as if it were nothing. “I will think on it. If Hadley says they need assistance in the temple, perhaps both my childhood dream and my current desire to serve my kingdom can be satisfied.”

Edric grinned and clapped a hand on his back, guiding Alec back out into the market. “Good. Now, all this talking has left me thirsty. I believe there is a stall with some excellent juices here.”

Alec smiled faintly at his brother’s attempt to lighten the mood, but there was something deeper in his eyes—something that wasn’t quite settled. They made their way through the market in a slow, easy circuit, greeted by the vendors and buyers, all clearly delighted to see them. Edric took the time to speak to everyone who approached him, exchanging pleasantries, laughing and joking with the people. Alec did the same, engaging in lively discussions with the merchants, talking about the wares on display and the prospect of trading with Eskarven. But eventually, as the sun reached its zenith and the crowds began to grow thicker, they were forced to politely disengage, with promises to return as soon as they could.

“Thank you,” Alec said as they left the town behind them. “I needed that, in a way I did not even realize.”

Edric turned to him, smiling warmly. “I told you to trust me.”

“I do.” Alec shook his head slowly, a soft, contemplative smile crossing his face. “I always have, but Edric—” He trailed off, the look in his eyes a mixture of curiosity and something else. “You’ve changed, somehow.”

Edric paused, startled by the observation. “Changed?”

“Matured,” Alec amended, his voice thoughtful. “Perhaps it is the crown. Or perhaps”—he laughed, glancing down at his feet—“perhaps it is your marriage.”

Edric blinked, confused. “What could that possibly have to do with anything?” He had always known Alec was less than thrilled with Zephyr, and while they had found some semblance of understanding after the political maneuvering had settled, Edric never expected his brother to attribute any part of his own growth to his marriage.

Alec met his gaze, his smile teasing yet warm. “The simple fact of expanding your life to include another person in that way surely changes someone,” he said. “And considering the circumstances, I imagine you and Zephyr had to do a great deal of polite negotiating.” Alec grinned then, his tone light, almost playful. “You were more tactful today than I could ever have predicted, Edric.”

Only slightly stung by the implication that he normally lacked tact, Edric grinned back, clearly enjoying the banter. “I am pleased to know I can still surprise you after all these years.”

Alec reached up to gather a few stray strands of hair that had fallen loose from his braid, his usual composure slipping back into place. “I look forward to being surprised again in the future,” he said. “And to spending more time with your husband.”

Edric raised an eyebrow at that. “Truly?” It had been a long time since he’d seen any sign that Alec was willing to make peace with Zephyr, despite the political reality of their marriage.

“Truly,” Alec shrugged, his voice tinged with a hint of guilt. “If I am beginning a new chapter of my life, perhaps I can do so with a more open mind. One less given to seeing him only as a tool to be employed.”

“I would like that very much,” Edric said softly, his tone sincere. “Very much indeed.”

Alec’s eyes softened, and for a moment, Edric saw the layers of his brother’s armor crack just a little, the years of fighting battles—both external and internal—finally beginning to wear thin. “When will he next be visiting us, do you know?” Alec asked, a compassion in his eyes that Edric rarely saw.

Edric’s throat tightened at the question, the simple reminder of Zephyr’s absence stirring a deep ache in his chest. He shook his head. “I do not know. I will write to him, though, when we return to the castle. I have been missing him.”

Alec’s expression softened further, and he reached out, squeezing Edric’s shoulder. “I cannot say I am sorry for suggesting this match,” he said quietly. “Especially when it has brought our kingdom peace, and you happiness. I only wish it did not also bring you this pain.”

Edric had often found himself wishing the same thing, wishing that he and Zephyr might have a normal marriage—one in which they could share a home, a bed, the simple joy of touch. But Alec was right. Their marriage involved so much more than just the two of them, and while it was difficult, Edric could not regret it. He wouldn’t. Not when it had already brought so much to both of their lands.

“The joy and the pain together are what make it what it is,” Edric said, his voice distant as he turned his gaze north, towards the mountains that separated them from Eskarven. He could almost picture Zephyr standing on the parapet, looking out over the land they had both fought to protect. “Without the one, the other would be lesser.”