Page 12 of A Tale of Treachery

Laughter burst from his lips, and he shot Aiden a wink, then stood and offered me a hug.

“Scoundrel,” I whispered the insult in his ear and squeezed him tight.

“I have my reasons,” he whispered. “Just trying to coerce Aiden into taking action.”

I pushed him away and rolled my eyes. “Maybe you should take a break from the whole coercion hobby of yours. Nobody particularly enjoys it except you.”

“Noted.”

Brandon stepped between us with a huff, clearly annoyed with his brother. “We were just on our way out, but it was good to see you.” He squeezed my shoulder in farewell. “Don’t be a stranger anymore. You don’t have to hide from us to avoid my irritating brother.”

“Wait! The two of you are going to leave after not seeing me for a month?”

Brandon brought his knuckles into my scalp, grinding his digits into the roots of my hair, causing a wild nest of tangles to form as he replied in his smooth voice, “We have a patrol to prepare for tonight, Dahlia. And whose fault is it that you haven’t seen us? Try harder to make time for us.”

“Ugh! Stop it, you’re messing up my braid,” I shouted at him, pulling away and sticking my tongue out.

George approached next and pulled me into a hug, his eyes boring into Aiden’s. “Don’t be a stranger. Otherwise, I’ll have to track you down, and you won’t like that.”

“I’ll come around more often, George. No need to steal me away,” I said, chuckling as he disappeared alongside Brandon.

I turned to Aiden, my smile fading. His brow was furrowed, his look pensive, and he was quiet—more so than usual. I bit my lip and waited for him to speak first. It was unclear what he was thinking. His carefully guarded exterior hid his thoughts, and his aura was a barely perceptible blend of soft pastel colors that gave nothing away.

“I’m sorry you’ve been staying away on my account,” he said.

“Don’t be silly. I stayed away out of embarrassment, not because I didn’t want to see you…you know it meant nothing, don’t you?”

His eyes traced my face for any sign of insincerity, and he grunted. “Your actions affect more than just you.”

I didn’t know if he meant that my actions affected him or George, but it didn’t matter. It was his inaction that had always affected me.

I pursed my lips. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”

He nodded, his eyes darting around the courtyard like he was planning his escape. I didn’t want him to leave just yet, so I grasped at any straw to keep him talking. “Tell me what you’re patrolling for tonight.”

“It’s routine, a standard patrol to ensure nothing strange has entered the forest,” he mumbled.

He was acting odd.

“You’re hiding something. What are you up to?”

“Just drop it. You don’t want to know.”

He moved to leave, but I grasped his forearm tightly. “Is it that I don’t want to know, or is it thatyoudon’t want me to know?”

He sighed. “You’re not going to leave it alone, are you?” I shook my head, and he groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re not going to like the truth.”

“Tell me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut as if pained. “My father has decided that I need to learn the workings of every aspect of the kingdom, even the ones I’m hesitant to perform. There’s been word of a coven of witches living in the south end of the Scourged Forest. He’s decided to send me and my men on a collection patrol to retrieve the witches tonight.”

A collection patrol.The world stopped when I heard those words, and my breath hitched. I never thought Aiden would take part in something so vile and wretched. It was against everything he stood for.

Collection patrols had one outcome: death. Death to whoever and whatever was unfortunate enough to be captured, thanks to his father’s backward beliefs. Collections were the king’s way of controlling and punishing those who had magic. The term was a pretty way to saymass murderso the subjects of the kingdom wouldn’t question the king’s atrocities.

And this collection wasn’t aimed at just anyone, from the sound of it. A coven that resided in the south end of the forest had been targeted.

Eulalia’s coven.

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