Page 43 of The Curse Between Us

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 sentencehang 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 speakto 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—onein 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.”

Chapter Eleven

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