Chapter 5 - The Silent Courtier
Three days had passed since Eliza’s arrival at Blackwood Fortress, and the vast, echoing stone castle was beginning to feel less like a prison of state and more like a massive, breathing labyrinth.
Rowan had given her a set of comfortable, private chambers in the west wing, overlooking the snow-covered pine forests that stretched toward the horizon. He had assigned a young, chatterbox servant named Megan to bring her meals and tend to her needs, though Eliza spent most of her time walking the castle gardens or sitting by the hearth in the royal library, reading ancient bound volumes of northern lore.
She did not miss her healing touch as much as she had feared. Without the strange, golden warmth humming beneath her skin, the world felt quieter, sharper, and somehow more real. She spent hours tending to the little white wolf cub—whom the guards had eagerly nicknamed Frost—feeding it scraps of roasted meat and watching it chase its own tail across the Persian rugs.
There was only one problem: King Rowan would not leave her alone.
Every afternoon, just as the winter sun began to dip below the frozen ramparts, the heavy oak door of her chamber would creak open, and the king would stride in, carrying a stack of maps, a plate of spiced pastries, or simply a handful of strange questions about Frost Hollow and her life before the decree.
"You're avoiding the council banquet again," Rowan noted, closing the door behind him and striding across the room. He shed his heavy fur-lined cloak, tossing it over the back of a chair, and sat uninvited on the edge of the stone hearth.
Eliza looked up from her book, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. "The council banquet involves twenty lords shouting over roasted pheasant about grain tariffs and border taxes. I prefer the company of a wolf cub that doesn't demand a tax exemption."
Rowan let out a low, rich laugh—a sound that softened the harsh, granite lines of his face entirely. "You speak to an absolute monarch with a startling lack of reverence, Eliza."
"You are only an absolute monarch when you're sitting on that iron chair, Rowan," she replied softly, dropping his royal title with a casual ease that would have had court executioners reaching for their axes. "Here, you're just a man who spends too much time worrying about a giant wolf."
Rowan’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of deep, quiet intensity. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his amber eyes fixed on her face.
"Valen is alive because of you," he said quietly. "Every time I look at him running across the snow in the courtyard, I remember how he looked lying on those cold stones, fading away. And I remember that you walked through a nightmare to bring him back."
"I told you, it wasn't about a reward—"
"I know," Rowan interrupted gently. "It wasn't. Which makes the debt all the heavier to bear." He reached out, his warm, calloused fingers brushing lightly against the back of her hand where it rested on the open book. "Tell me about your mother, Eliza. Miriam spoke of her, but you never did."
Before Eliza could answer, a sharp, frantic scratching echoed from the heavy oak door.
Valen stood outside in the corridor, letting out a low, urgent whine that vibrated through the floorboards.
Rowan frowned, instantly standing up. Before he could reach the latch, the door flew open. Commander Gideon Mercer stood on the threshold, his face pale, his hand gripping the hilt of his broadsword so tightly his knuckles were bloodless.
"Sire," Gideon said, his voice dropping into a harsh, urgent whisper. "You need to come to the lower armory immediately. The southern wardens just intercepted a courier trying to smuggle a sealed dispatch out of the fortress."
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Rowan’s eyes flashed with sudden, dangerous amber light. "Whose seal?"
"Lord Malakor Vane's," Gideon replied grimly. "And the message wasn't addressed to the southern merchants. It was addressed to the border raiders in the dead-lands. They’re planning an attack on the mountain pass... timed for the night of the full moon."
