Chapter One
Weeks of planning. That’s what it had taken to plan the battle that was going to seal the fate of the Delacroixes. The Court of Exiles had been courting the end of the First Son’s War for months. Every time they came close, the Delacroixes danced just out of the Silvers reach. It had given Marius more than one gray hair and various sleepless nights.
Marius sat at his desk, his brow furrowed over a proposal from a caravan on the Trade Route when he heard the horns blowing. The king sat still for a moment, his heart racing as he recognized the pattern of the notes. As he was standing from his desk, the door to Marius’s private chambers flew open.
“My lord.” The captain of the guard stepped into the room, his usually calm face flush and his green eyes filled with excitement. Cypress Holt’s silvery blonde hair looked windblown. Paired with the lightweight shirt and torn breeches, Marius could only assume the captain had been at the training yard when he heard the horn call. “The troops are back,” Cypress said after sweeping a bow.
“I hear this,” Marius said. “My general will brief us in Battle Sanctum?” He left his paperwork lying on his desk as he started toward the door. The caravans could wait.
“He’s on his way here. A scout was sent ahead to insist that he meet with you in your private chamber,” Cypress said. He brushed a hand through his hair, succeeding in tussling it even more. The King of Exiles understood the meaning; they had had a problem with spies and assassins throughout the war. His private chamber was perhaps the safest placed for a briefing.
“How close are they?” Marius sat back in his seat, his fingers shuffling around the papers that littered the top of his desk. He might have the time to get through his paperwork, but Marius highly doubted he would be able to give more than half a mind to the contents.
“They will be here within the hour.” Cypress stood by the door, still fidgeting. Marius could not blame him. He was having issues trying to keep himself from showing the extent his excitement. Marius rested his head in his hands, his black hair falling into his dark eyes. The King of Exiles could feel his ancestors smiling on him. He had finished what they had started.
Marius stretched, feeling the ache in his tired body. If it had only been the war that had kept the King of Exiles from sleeping, Marius might not have been so anxious. But now, the war was ending. Marius found there was a bitterness to his sweet victory. His ancestors may have smiled upon him, but they did not smile upon his only surviving heir who was a growing concern.
Aubrey was the youngest of Marius’s triplet sons and the second to last of the six Silver children. It didn’t matter what the king did to try to involve the boy in the everyday workings of the Court of Exiles. Aubrey continued his lifestyle that revolved around lightskirts and drinking. The boy showed no potential as a king.
As promised, the general of Marius’s army was standing in his private chambers within the hour. The general stood at attention, a lift in his chin that was the only sign of the pride that must be swelling in his chest. Marius had leaned back in his chair with his fingers steepled beneath his chin.
“You have news for me.” Marius kept his tone even. There was no need to lose the control he had over his household just because of a victory.
“The Delacroixes have surrendered,” the general said. “They have put stipulations on their surrender, however.”
Marius raised an eyebrow. “I do not recall asking for a surrender from Delacroix Manor.”
“My lord, you did not order obliteration either.” The general remained still as the King of Exiles scrutinized him. Finally, Marius motioned for him to continue his report. “Desmond Delacroix requested that we consider this more of an alliance than a surrender.”
“But he did surrender?” Marius cut in. “Just assure me of that.”
The general pulled out a scroll that looked as if it were the cleanest thing on the man and handed it to Marius. “He drafted and signed his own terms of surrender.”
“Presumptuous, just like his father,” Marius murmured as he unrolled the scroll. The King of Exiles read through the terms of surrender once and felt his brow furrow as he read it a second time. “This is what he expects me to agree to? What does he take me for?”
“What shall we do?” Cypress asked from the door.
“Gather the High Guard in Battle Sanctum. I’ll fetch Lady Naomi and we’ll all hear the details.” Marius stood, the full weight of his position falling on his shoulders again. It had become a mantle he was accustomed to, but the burden of obstacles unknown had shifted to the center of his shoulder blades. “The Court of Exiles has won the First Son’s War. Congratulations, gentlemen.”
Chapter One
Weeks of planning. That’s what it had taken to plan the battle that was going to seal the fate of the Delacroixes. The Court of Exiles had been courting the end of the First Son’s War for months. Every time they came close, the Delacroixes danced just out of the Silvers reach. It had given Marius more than one gray hair and various sleepless nights.
Marius sat at his desk, his brow furrowed over a proposal from a caravan on the Trade Route when he heard the horns blowing. The king sat still for a moment, his heart racing as he recognized the pattern of the notes. As he was standing from his desk, the door to Marius’s private chambers flew open.
“My lord.” The captain of the guard stepped into the room, his usually calm face flush and his green eyes filled with excitement. Cypress Holt’s silvery blonde hair looked windblown. Paired with the lightweight shirt and torn breeches, Marius could only assume the captain had been at the training yard when he heard the horn call. “The troops are back,” Cypress said after sweeping a bow.
“I hear this,” Marius said. “My general will brief us in Battle Sanctum?” He left his paperwork lying on his desk as he started toward the door. The caravans could wait.
“He’s on his way here. A scout was sent ahead to insist that he meet with you in your private chamber,” Cypress said. He brushed a hand through his hair, succeeding in tussling it even more. The King of Exiles understood the meaning; they had had a problem with spies and assassins throughout the war. His private chamber was perhaps the safest placed for a briefing.
“How close are they?” Marius sat back in his seat, his fingers shuffling around the papers that littered the top of his desk. He might have the time to get through his paperwork, but Marius highly doubted he would be able to give more than half a mind to the contents.
“They will be here within the hour.” Cypress stood by the door, still fidgeting. Marius could not blame him. He was having issues trying to keep himself from showing the extent his excitement. Marius rested his head in his hands, his black hair falling into his dark eyes. The King of Exiles could feel his ancestors smiling on him. He had finished what they had started.
Marius stretched, feeling the ache in his tired body. If it had only been the war that had kept the King of Exiles from sleeping, Marius might not have been so anxious. But now, the war was ending. Marius found there was a bitterness to his sweet victory. His ancestors may have smiled upon him, but they did not smile upon his only surviving heir who was a growing concern.
Aubrey was the youngest of Marius’s triplet sons and the second to last of the six Silver children. It didn’t matter what the king did to try to involve the boy in the everyday workings of the Court of Exiles. Aubrey continued his lifestyle that revolved around lightskirts and drinking. The boy showed no potential as a king.
As promised, the general of Marius’s army was standing in his private chambers within the hour. The general stood at attention, a lift in his chin that was the only sign of the pride that must be swelling in his chest. Marius had leaned back in his chair with his fingers steepled beneath his chin.
“You have news for me.” Marius kept his tone even. There was no need to lose the control he had over his household just because of a victory.
“The Delacroixes have surrendered,” the general said. “They have put stipulations on their surrender, however.”
Marius raised an eyebrow. “I do not recall asking for a surrender from Delacroix Manor.”
“My lord, you did not order obliteration either.” The general remained still as the King of Exiles scrutinized him. Finally, Marius motioned for him to continue his report. “Desmond Delacroix requested that we consider this more of an alliance than a surrender.”
“But he did surrender?” Marius cut in. “Just assure me of that.”
The general pulled out a scroll that looked as if it were the cleanest thing on the man and handed it to Marius. “He drafted and signed his own terms of surrender.”
“Presumptuous, just like his father,” Marius murmured as he unrolled the scroll. The King of Exiles read through the terms of surrender once and felt his brow furrow as he read it a second time. “This is what he expects me to agree to? What does he take me for?”
“What shall we do?” Cypress asked from the door.
“Gather the High Guard in Battle Sanctum. I’ll fetch Lady Naomi and we’ll all hear the details.” Marius stood, the full weight of his position falling on his shoulders again. It had become a mantle he was accustomed to, but the burden of obstacles unknown had shifted to the center of his shoulder blades. “The Court of Exiles has won the First Son’s War. Congratulations, gentlemen.”
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