Page 5 of The Curse Between Us

The Prince—no, King?—Zephyr stood with a fluid grace and gave Edric a bow that was respectful, though not deferential. "Prince Edric, thank you for coming."

Edric, still reeling from the sight of the man before him, felt his body tense. He turned to face Alec, his younger brother, who had been watching the exchange with unusual interest. “What exactly is going on here, Alec?” Edric’s voice betrayed the flicker of confusion, and perhaps, even distrust.

Alec met his brother's gaze, his expression unreadable. "Hopefully," he said carefully, "the negotiation of a peace treaty between Rafria and Eskarven."

The word "peace" hung in the air like an impossible dream. It was small, simple, and yet so profoundly unimaginable. Edric had known nothing but war with Eskarven for as long as he could remember. The death of his mother had only solidified his father’s resolve to continue the endless conflict. Once, Edric had blamed the Eskarvens entirely for her death, his heart consumed with the need for vengeance. But overthe years, that rage had cooled into a resigned understanding that the war had cost both sides dearly. And today, on this very day, both kingdoms had paid a heavy price.

Edric cleared his throat, his voice firm but tinged with a bittersweet sense of obligation. He nodded to Zephyr and gave a respectful bow in return. "My condolences on the loss of your brother," he said, his words feeling hollow but necessary. The trappings of diplomacy were required, even in such a dire moment.

Zephyr inclined his head slightly, his expression somber. "Thank you," he replied, his voice steady. Then, after a moment of silence, he asked, "And how fares your father?"

Edric’s heart tightened. He cast a quick glance at Alec, whose face betrayed nothing, but the shadow of understanding was evident in his eyes. They both knew the truth. The king—their father—was slipping away. "I do not think he will last much longer," Edric said, his voice unsteady. "Unless..." He paused, uncertainty flickering in his chest. "Unless there is something you can do?"

Zephyr shook his head, the regret in his expression genuine but not easily hidden. "Unfortunately, no," he replied softly.

Herbert, who had been silent until now, finally interjected. His tone was brisk, cutting through the tension in the room. "That is why you’re both here." His sharp eyes scanned both men. "Unless King Caldwell makes a miraculous recovery, very shortly, you will both inherit the crowns of your respective kingdoms. And, unless my intelligence is incorrect—which, I assure you, it rarely is—you are both receptive to the idea of cessation of hostilities between Rafria and Eskarven."

Edric could not suppress the skepticism that rose within him. He narrowed his eyes at Herbert, a man known for hiscalculated actions and sharp wit. "And how, exactly, did you acquire this intelligence?" he asked, suspicion lacing his words.

Herbert merely shrugged, unaffected by the scrutiny. "In the usual manner," he replied with a casual air, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Then, he glanced at Zephyr, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You were a bit harder to watch, but we found ways."

The revelation that the Rafrians had been spying on Zephyr did not seem to phase the Eskarven prince. In fact, Zephyr seemed almost amused by the acknowledgment. "You've been waiting for this moment for a long time, haven’t you?" he asked, his voice low, with a knowing look.

"Yes," Alec answered with quiet certainty. "My father never listened to reason. I always knew that there would be no chance for an alliance under his reign. But you, Edric," Alec turned to his brother, hands spread in a pleading gesture, "you have a chance to change things. To end this war. To stop the endless and unnecessary cycle of death and destruction."

"Some would argue with you calling it unnecessary," Zephyr’s voice interrupted, his tone quiet but firm. He had been listening intently, and now all eyes turned toward him. "There will be those in my court who will demand vengeance for my brother’s death, and I am certain there will be those here who will call for the same in your kingdom, regarding your father."

Edric’s gaze hardened. He knew Zephyr spoke the truth, but the reality was crushing. "By the end of the day, they will both be dead," he said flatly, his words heavy in the silence of the room. "And that will be the end of it."

Alec nodded slowly, his expression solemn. "They died at each other's hands. A fitting end." He glanced at Zephyr, searching for some sign of reaction, but Zephyr remained composed, his face unreadable. Despite the circumstances,despite his status as a prisoner, Zephyr’s calm demeanor only deepened Edric’s respect for him.

Zephyr shifted slightly, his eyes returning to Edric. "So," he said, his voice deliberate, "we agree to cease the fighting. And then what? I must return to my kingdom to take up my throne, or it will be claimed by one of my many cousins. And if that happens, you will find yourselves negotiating all over again."

Herbert shook his head, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It isn’t that simple. If we just let you go, it will be seen as a sign of weakness. The court would never accept it."

Alec leaned forward, his hands folding in front of him, his voice quiet but determined. "It’s a radical change we’re proposing. The people will need something to convince them."

Edric’s stomach clenched as he began to piece together what they were implying. His heart sank as he realized the truth. His voice was flat when he spoke. "You’re saying he has to remain here."

Herbert nodded quickly, though his tone was soft. "Just for a few months. Long enough for both kingdoms to adjust to the new order."

Edric frowned, his mind racing. He recalled the history lessons of Rafria and Eskarven, the ways in which both kingdoms had always prided themselves on their traditions. "But, Zephyr," he said, turning to the Eskarven prince, "you have to be crowned in your own hall, do you not?"

Zephyr met Edric’s eyes, surprise flashing across his face, but he nodded in agreement. "Yes," he confirmed. "If I am not crowned, my authority will mean nothing."

Herbert tapped the blank sheet of parchment before him, a self-satisfied smile tugging at his lips. "Not entirely accurate," he said, before turning to Zephyr with a knowing grin. "You will write a letter to your court, delivered by our messengers, bearing your seal. You will appoint a regent in yourabsence—perhaps one of your cousins. As Crown Prince and heir apparent, your authority will still stand. Once enough time has passed for both of our lands to grieve our fallen kings, you may return to Eskarven and claim your throne, with Rafria standing as your ally."

Edric let out a low whistle as the full weight of the plan slowly settled into his mind. "Herbert, you've thought of everything," he said with a hint of admiration. It was rare that anyone could surprise him, but his chief strategist had managed to do just that. Edric couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the man he had plucked from the Royal University years ago. Herbert had proved invaluable, especially now when the future of both kingdoms rested in their hands.

Zephyr, however, did not look convinced. His brow furrowed, and a flicker of frustration crossed his features. "It’s unclear," he said, his voice tinged with reluctance. "If this treaty is to be one of equal standing, why must I remain here?" He shot a brief, uncertain glance at Edric, then quickly looked away again, as though he didn't want to expose too much emotion. "It displays a lack of faith in me, in my word, and in my people."

Alec, seated beside Edric, immediately spoke up, his voice firm, yet carrying a hint of empathy. "It’s not meant to," he said, his posture tense as he leaned forward. "But Zephyr, you were taken prisoner. During a battle that we won. As much as we wish to be in the future, we are not on equal standing yet." His words were calm, but there was an undeniable weight behind them. The truth of the situation hung between them like a heavy curtain.

Edric observed the exchange in silence, his mind working through the complexities of what Alec had said. Zephyr’s expression remained distant, his hands steepled in front of him as he pondered. Finally, after a long moment of deliberation, he spoke again, his voice resigned but unwavering."I do not like it," he said, his gaze focused on something far beyond the room. "But if my temporary absence will bring peace to my kingdom, then I will suffer it as patiently as I can."

Edric nodded slowly, relieved at Zephyr’s maturity and willingness to compromise. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "We will do our best to ensure your suffering is as mild as possible." He offered a small, appreciative smile.

A flicker of a grin tugged at the corner of Zephyr’s mouth, and Edric found himself responding in kind. It was strange—unnerving even—to be sitting here, calmly discussing a peace treaty with someone who had been his sworn enemy for most of his life. Yet, in this moment, Edric found himself thinking that, had circumstances been different—had they not been born on opposite sides of the great mountain range that separated their kingdoms—they might have been good friends.

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