Page 27 of Sword & Sacrifice

Though maybe we should have, since Penn was probably the main reason he wanted to come to the palace anyway.

Silas only had a small lump of wax to test things with. It would be better to choose someone who would have a good chance of responding. Someone who had their own workshop of fresh supplies.

Carefully, Silas wrote his letter.

Dear Adelaide,

I found some old wax in Alistair’s things that I thought might still be used to send messages. Please reply to this letter to tell me if it works.

-Silas

Concentrating on Adelaide, he folded up the short missive and firmly pressed the wax into it with his thumb. Do I need to do anything else? Before he finished the thought, the letter disappeared with a pop.

Griselda sneezed loudly, then followed it up with a muttered curse as she pressed her hand to her wounded stomach. She glared around the room and demanded, “Who’s working magic?”

Not ready to explain what he’d done, Silas said only, “Sorry, Gris, I’m sorting through Alistair’s letters.”

She glared at the documents in front of him, then mumbled about magicians as she returned to her work.

When the room’s attention shifted away from him again, Silas grabbed another letter, hoping to scrounge together a little more wax. Confirming it was a non-magical letter, Silas started to discard it, but recognized Queen Katarina of Lyberna’s seal in the wax. Once he registered the sender, he paused to read the full letter:

Dearest Alistair

Silas’ nose wrinkled at the greeting. Sometimes, he’d suspected that Alistair and Katarina had a romantic affair, and the tone of her letter only strengthened that suspicion.

Dearest Alistair,

I so enjoyed your last visit. Every time I see you, you look as young and spry as the day we first met. Sometimes, I feel as if I am the only one aging. Promise you won’t leave me in the dust? Offer an old woman some solace, at least, that she is not the only one suffering the passage of time.

Though I am always happy to discuss the mutually beneficial relationship of our kingdoms, you left me in great suspense last time. Trade is important, but you know I seek a more solid alliance with Bellacosta than can be forged in writing alone.

You claimed only your king could answer my request. You’ve had time to speak with him now, so I ask again: is he ready for marriage?

He is twenty-five already. I had birthed three children by his age. He has no family, no direct heir. What is he waiting for? Does he plan to die alone, to leave Bellacosta in chaos with no prospects for the future?

You cannot possibly wish that fate upon the kingdom you have served so loyally for decades. Do the right thing, Alistair—convince your king that it is time to wed.

Any of my granddaughters would make a fine queen, but I do have to throw in a good word for my darling Cecile. Such a sweet young girl would suit your king well.

Marriage would solidify our alliance for generations. It is the best way to grow both of our kingdoms.

If your king does not agree, I may seek a groom for my granddaughters elsewhere. There are other kings in need of a queen.

Mark my words, Alistair: you are not my only option. I would, of course, prefer to treat with you. But my children, my kingdom, my legacy, comes first. Whoever will provide the best future will receive full support from Lyberna.

Yours,

Katarina

Nausea curdled Silas’ stomach, heavy and exhausting. The first time he read the letter, all he could think was: she talks about me like a pretty trinket she can purchase or discard on a whim. Reading it through a second time, he understood the veiled threat in the last line. She wouldn’t seek out just any king to marry one of her granddaughters. No, she would contact Archer specifically, make an alliance with him to undermine Alistair’s plans.

How much of Alistair’s plotting had she participated in? What benefits had she reaped from Arnsveld’s poverty? She would have profited from their downfall, then turned around and pretended to be their savior. Offering resources, support in a war, anything in exchange for access to the Arnsveldian throne.

Silas glanced at Archer, wondering if he would have accepted that deal. If I hadn’t responded to his letter, would he already be married?

Archer looked up again, always so sensitive to Silas’ gaze on him. Again, the silent question in his slightly furrowed brow.

What should have concerned Silas was the thought of Arnsveld and Lyberna declaring war against Bellacosta. Or the fact that, if they hadn’t met, Silas would either be dead or still under Alistair’s control. Instead, he could only picture Archer kissing some faceless woman. Taking her as his bride, falling in love with her.