Chapter 138

Serin swallowed a sigh and extended the envelope to Kennard.

“What is it?” Kennard asked dully.

His own voice sounded foreign to him, hoarse and muffled, as though it were echoing inside his skull. Yet the instant he saw the seal stamped into the wax, clarity pierced his mind like a bolt of light.

“I will fetch a paper knife,” Serin offered, turning toward the desk by the window.

“No need,” Kennard replied curtly.

Frowning, he tore the wax open with his fingers. When he pulled out the letter, a familiar handwriting leapt into view.

Come to our first hunting ground the moment you receive this. If you ignore this letter, the imperial palace will fall to the White Fox Tribe.

Kennard crushed the letter in his fist.

“What does Count Remid want?” Serin asked, stepping closer to the bed.

“Remid? You mean Marten Remid?” Benzef exclaimed, staring at Serin in shock before turning to Kennard. “Betraying Your Grace was not enough for him? What trick is he trying to play now by sending a letter?”

Unable to restrain himself, Benzef fired the questions in quick succession. Kennard clenched his teeth and forced himself to breathe. Fury churned inside him as well, a rage so intense it dwarfed anyone else’s.

Knowing Elena carried his child, Marten had conspired with the Emperor to abduct her. Now he was apparently allied with the White Fox Tribe as well. The memory of being stabbed in the back by the friend he had treasured most, and nearly losing Elena because of it, still felt unreal. And now this man dared to send such a message.

Kennard closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He kept them shut until his thoughts emptied into a blank haze. Only after a long moment did he lift his lids again.

Come to our first hunting ground the moment you receive this. If you ignore this letter, the imperial palace will fall to the White Fox Tribe.

Every word of Marten’s message resurfaced in his mind with perfect clarity. He could not imagine how the White Fox Tribe intended to seize the imperial palace. It might be nothing more than a ploy to lure him away from Elena. Yet he could not easily dismiss even the slightest chance of danger.

Elena still had not regained consciousness. Her ragged breathing had eased a little, but her fever had barely fallen. Even as they wiped her body endlessly with cloths soaked in cold water, clammy sweat continued to bead across her skin.

He could not leave her in this condition. Even if the palace were to fall to the White Fox Tribe, it would have to be endured.

Kennard held out the crumpled letter to Serin. “Burn it,” he ordered flatly.

As Serin accepted the letter, Kennard passed the cloth in his other hand to Cura. “Soak a fresh one.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Cura replied quickly, dipping a clean cloth into water from the basin and wringing it out.

Kennard resumed wiping Elena’s face. He half expected her to open her eyes at any moment and look at him with those glass bright gray irises. He longed for her to smile softly and call his name as if nothing had happened. But her eyelids did not so much as flutter.

“Your Grace,” Serin said cautiously.

“What is it?” Kennard answered without taking his eyes off Elena.

“You truly do not intend to go?”

Kennard turned his head with a weary sigh. The letter he had ordered burned was still in Serin’s hand.

“I do not recall asking for your opinion,” Kennard said coolly, lifting one brow. “Why did you read it?”

Avoiding his gaze, Serin lowered his head and stared at the letter in his hand. “Should I not at least be told what is happening?”

“What is going on?” Benzef demanded at last, looking back and forth between them in mounting frustration. His face flushed as if angered by being left out of the exchange. “If we are to undertake something serious, there should be no secrets between us. We must trust one another.”

“Marten,” Kennard cut in sharply, his eyes still fixed on Serin, “has requested to meet me. He claims that if I do not appear, the White Fox Tribe will seize the imperial palace.”

“What?” Benzef’s jaw dropped. “Betraying Your Grace was not enough for him. Now he would turn his back on the entire nation as well?”

“When is this meeting?” Benzef pressed. “Tonight?”

“He said to come as soon as I received the letter,” Kennard replied, turning his attention back to Elena. The cloth in his hand had already grown lukewarm.

“Ah. So you truly will not go?” Benzef asked carefully, studying Kennard’s expression.

“I will not.”

“But the palace may fall to the White Fox Tribe.”

“Then we will take it back,” Kennard said simply.

Benzef stared at him in shock. Nearby, Serin released a quiet sigh and walked to the fireplace, tossing the letter onto the embers. The moment it touched the smoldering logs, it burst into flame.

“But if the palace is taken, what of the people?” Benzef insisted, stepping right up beside Kennard. “I have no doubt Your Grace would win the war in the end, but who knows what the citizens would suffer in the meantime?”

“If you believe in me,” Kennard replied evenly, brushing the back of his hand against Elena’s neck and feeling a faint coolness there, “then say no more.”

“Your Grace,” Benzef began again.

“Duke Benzef,” Kennard said, rising from the bedside to face him.

Startled by the sudden movement, Benzef flinched and stepped back.

“This could be another trap designed to separate me from Elena,” Kennard continued in a low, deliberate voice. “I do not believe she was abducted merely for a witch trial.”

“Perhaps it was meant to tarnish Your Grace’s reputation,” Benzef suggested quickly. “If word spreads that you married a witch, people will surely speak ill of both you and your wife.”

“My standing will not crumble over something so trivial,” Kennard replied. “There is a greater reason behind this.”

Benzef opened his mouth to respond, but the door swung open quietly and Leto entered. Chains linking his ankles clinked softly with each step. Through the doorway, the knight assigned to guard him stood beside Irish. When their eyes met, the knight bowed swiftly and shut the door.

Leto set the tray he carried onto the table. Serin approached at once, poured a small amount of liquid from a silver kettle into a matching cup, and drank it. After waiting a moment in silence, he placed the cup down and looked to Kennard. At Kennard’s nod, Leto filled a wide cup and handed it, along with a spoon, to Cura.

Kennard watched in silence as Cura carefully fed the liquid into Elena’s mouth drop by drop.

“Your Grace,” Benzef ventured again, his tone more subdued, “would it not be wise to meet Count Remid? I regret asking you to go somewhere that may endanger you, but while you are gone, we will guard Her Grace with our lives.”

“We are still discussing this?” Kennard snapped.

His sudden outburst froze Cura and Leto in place. Both men turned to stare at him.

“I will remain at her side,” Serin added quietly, attempting to persuade him.

“You as well, Serin,” Kennard muttered, dragging his fingers roughly across his brow as he released a strained breath.

***

Kennard tethered his horse at the edge of the forest and shifted at once into a black wolf.

He had no idea what scheme Marten was plotting, but he intended to return to Elena as quickly as possible. He sprinted through the woods and soon burst into a clearing. Even there, ancient trees crowded both sides so densely that not a single ray of sunlight reached the ground.

Marten was leaning against a jagged boulder fitted with a rusted iron door. Sensing Kennard’s approach from afar, he straightened. No other presence stirred in the forest. Aside from Marten’s pheromones, Kennard felt no one else nearby.

Marten bent slightly at the waist, settling into a guarded stance.

“So you came alone,” Marten called, his tone edged with mockery. “Braver than I expected.”

The sight of him ignited the murderous intent Kennard had been suppressing. Without slowing, he charged. In a blink he was upon Marten and launched himself forward.

Marten shifted into a wolf and twisted aside just in time. Kennard struck the boulder Marten had been leaning on and used it as a springboard, whipping his body around.

“You try to kill me the moment you see me,” Marten taunted, steadying his breath. “If you were in such a hurry, you should have arrived sooner. I have been waiting far too long.”

“I will make sure you never have to wait again,” Kennard growled.

The instant the words left him, he hurled himself at Marten once more.