Page 30 of The Curse Between Us

As the story wound down, Edric felt a sense of quiet joy settle over him. It wasn’t much—a simple story shared between them, a moment of peace in a long day of chaos—but it was enough. It was enough to make Edric feel that small spark of hope, that perhaps, despite everything, there would be a way forward. A way to bridge the distance between them and, in time, heal the rift that lay between them, not just physically but emotionally. The tenderness that had once been fraught with tension was now something else—something quieter, something that lingered in the air between them, unspoken but ever present.

For now, Edric was content to lie beside him, listening to the rhythm of Zephyr’s voice and the gentle sound of his breathing. The world outside might have been full of duties and demands, but in this moment, in the quiet of Zephyr’s chambers, it felt as if the two of them existed in a space of their own—a space that was theirs alone.

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Dressed in his finest garments, Edric stood just inside the castle gates, watching the horizon as the sun began to sinkinto the west, casting long shadows over the stone courtyard. He shifted from one foot to the other, glancing up at the sentries posted on the walls, his anticipation growing with each passing second. He waited for the signal, the shout that would announce the arrival of the delegation. But there was no movement yet. No sign that they were near. His posture stiffened as the minutes stretched on, and he crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to hide his restlessness.

“You’re as impatient as a child waiting for dessert.” Zephyr’s voice was low, his words tinted with amusement. Edric turned to find him standing beside him, looking every bit the part of a prince, his tall frame proud despite the slenderness of his form, a product of the illness that still lingered too closely. His clothing, too, had been quickly tailored to fit his changed body, the fabrics draping him in a way that was both regal and undeniably elegant. Yet, beneath the surface, there was still an air of fragility.

Edric couldn’t help but smile at the comment, though it did little to alleviate his inner tension. “How are you not?” he murmured, not bothering to hide the faint exasperation in his voice.

Zephyr gave him a sidelong look, the hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Perhaps I’m just better at hiding it.”

Edric chuckled softly, though his gaze quickly flickered back to the sentries. Zephyr’s ability to remain composed, despite everything, was one of the things Edric admired most about him. But Edric could still feel the tremor of nerves inside him. The arrival of the Eskarven delegation was not just a formality—it was a monumental moment, one that could either solidify their newly-formed alliance or shatter it before it even truly began. The weight of that possibility pressed down on him like a stone in his chest.

Beside him, Alec had remained quiet but present, his usual position at Edric’s side, though today he was dressed not in his usual general’s attire but in royal garb that set him apart as much as it marked him as family. His hair, normally pulled tightly back, hung loose at his shoulders, the softer look oddly unfamiliar. When Edric caught his eye, he saw the same apprehension reflected in Alec’s gaze. They both knew the risks they were taking by welcoming this delegation. This meeting could either bring them closer to their shared goal or ignite a conflict that neither side was ready for. Alec didn’t say anything, but Edric could feel his brother’s unease as strongly as his own.

And then, there was a shout from the walls.

Edric’s heart leapt, and his eyes snapped toward the noise, every muscle in his body coiling with anticipation. He felt Zephyr stiffen beside him, as if the sound itself had set something inside him on edge. In that moment, Edric reached down between them, instinctively squeezing his gloved hand, offering a small gesture of reassurance. Zephyr met his touch with a small, strained smile, but there was no time for words. The gates groaned as they swung open, revealing the figures of the Eskarven delegation as they rode into view.

The sight was impressive. The riders were tall and proud in their saddles, their horses steady and confident in their stride as they passed through the gates. The sunlight cast a golden hue over the party, and Edric took a deep breath, stepping forward as his role required. His golden crown felt heavier than ever, its weight a reminder of the responsibility he carried.

“I am King Edric of Rafria,” he announced, his voice carrying with calm authority. “You are most welcome among us.”

The first woman to dismount did so with grace, her robe a pure white that gleamed in the setting sun. Her eyes—sharp, calculating—met Edric’s, and she gave him a cool, assessinglook before speaking. “Greetings, King Edric. I am Clara, High Priestess of Eskarven, and I thank you for your welcome.”

Her gaze flicked to Zephyr, who had remained standing quietly at Edric’s side. There was a slight pause before Clara gave him a low, respectful bow. “Greetings, Your Highness. It is good to see you.”

Zephyr responded in kind, bowing in return, his movements slow and deliberate. As he did, Edric felt his hand slip from his grip, the weight of his absence tangible. Zephyr’s strength, though present, was clearly a delicate thing. Edric watched him carefully, his instincts bristling with the knowledge that despite Elsie’s tonic, each movement required more effort than it should. “I am delighted to see you as well, my lady,” Zephyr said, his voice steady but there was a faint edge to it that Edric knew well.

Edric took a breath, his mind already calculating the next steps. “Please,” he said, sweeping an arm toward the castle. “Let us retire inside so that you might refresh yourselves after your journey.”

As they walked toward the castle, Edric fell in step with a serene young woman, who had stayed somewhat apart from the rest of the group. She seemed to be observing everything with quiet contemplation. “I am Lady Hannah,” she introduced herself softly. “Cousin to Zephyr.”

Edric gave her a courteous bow. “It is an honour to meet you, my lady,” he said, trying his best to keep the tone of his voice warm despite the weight of the situation. “And a pleasure to meet a member of my husband’s family. He has spoken often of you.”

A small, soft smile appeared on Hannah’s face, and for the first time since their arrival, her expression softened. “It is good to see that you have had such conversations.” However, hereyes flickered briefly toward Zephyr, her smile fading. “But my cousin—he does not look well.”

Edric’s stomach churned at her words. Of course, it would be a shock to the Eskarvens. After only a month’s absence, Zephyr had grown noticeably thinner, his once-vibrant complexion now pale and drawn. It would be hard for anyone to see him this way and not worry. Edric’s smile remained, but it was strained. “I assure you, he is in good spirits and being treated with every respect and courtesy,” he said, keeping his voice low, careful not to alarm anyone. He met her skeptical gaze, hoping she could see the truth in his eyes. “We will speak of it later, but privately.”

Hannah’s expression shifted, her curiosity piqued more than her concern. She nodded, though her face remained guarded. “Of course.” She looked back at Zephyr, the concern still visible in her gaze, but the subject was clearly closed for now. They fell into a more pleasant conversation about the journey—about the treacherous mountain pass, the difficulty of crossing it, and the unexpected warmth they had encountered once they arrived in Rafria.

When they reached the inner chambers, the formalities eased as the group gathered around a smaller table, refreshments waiting for them. “Please, be seated,” Edric instructed, his voice calm and composed. “Relax. We will have a formal feast in a few hours’ time, but I thought it best we meet in smaller numbers first.”

He glanced at the two members of the delegation he had not yet met. “Introductions are in order, I believe,” he said, his tone polite, though his mind was already turning to the pressing matters at hand.

Zephyr nodded and gestured to the other two members of the delegation who had seated themselves at the far end of thetable. “You have met Clara and Hannah. Joining them are Max and Alicia.”

Edric gave both a warm nod, offering his greeting. “Welcome to Rafria.”

Max and Alicia both smiled back at him, their faces bright and eager. “And you have already met King Edric,” Zephyr continued. “We are also joined by Prince Alec and Chief Strategist Herbert.”

Polite greetings passed between them all, the tension in the room palpable but being handled with the utmost diplomacy. Once the formalities were completed, Edric leaned his forearms on the table, his gaze settling on his guests. The weight of what they were about to discuss, the delicate nature of their alliance, loomed over the room like a storm on the horizon.

“I never thought we would see this day,” Edric said frankly, his voice tinged with disbelief, but also with a sense of gratitude. “I am truly honoured by your presence here, and by the trust you have shown in making this journey.”

Clara’s lips twitched slightly, though the smile never fully reached her eyes. She regarded him with a coolness that made Edric’s stomach tighten. “A trust I am not sure has been earned,” she said slowly. Her eyes flicked to Zephyr before returning to Edric. “We came here under the banner of peace, in honour of the new alliance between our kingdoms, and yet we find our prince looking more a prisoner than a husband, despite his fine clothes.”

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