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Chapter 10
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2025-10-09 11:57:49
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Chains Of The Heart Chapter 120
The carriage ride was a blur of white and gray.Ezekiel stared out the window, watching the snow-covered landscape pass by in silence. The driver had tried to make conversation twice. Both times, Ezekiel had responded with monosyllables that discouraged further attempts.He didn't look like himself.The prophet who had arrived at the cave site days ago—all flowing robes and sharp smiles and eyes that gleamed with dangerous amusement—was gone. In his place sat a hollow man, pale and drawn, his hands clasped tightly in his lap as if he was afraid they might start shaking if he let go.The cave site came into view.Ezekiel was out of the carriage before it fully stopped.&n
Chains Of The Heart Chapter 119
The room was smaller than the one Emery had been given for the interrogation.Cozy, the servants called it. Intimate.Emery called it a cage.Lady Mira sat across from him, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long gone cold. She hadn't drunk any of it. Neither had he. They just... sat. Stared at each other. Tried to find words that didn't exist."He knows," Emery said finally.Mira's eyes flickered. "Who?""Kaelen. The prince. He knows I'm guilty." Emery rubbed his face with both hands. "He didn't say it outright, but he knows. They all know."Mira was quiet for a moment. Then, softly: "What did he say?"Emery told he
Chains Of The Heart Chapter 118
The room was warm, comfortable, and utterly devoid of the tension Silas had expected.Prince Kaelen had arranged for a private meeting chamber—small enough to feel intimate, large enough to avoid crowding. A fire crackled in the hearth. Tea steamed on a side table. The chairs were upholstered in rich fabrics that probably cost more than most soldiers made in a year.Emery of Tarron Vale sat across from them, his wife and children conspicuously absent.He looked... tired. That was Silas's first impression. Not defiant, not scheming, not the desperate traitor he'd been hunting. Just tired. A man who had run so far and so fast that he'd forgotten how to stop.Theron the ambassador took the lead, as planned. Silas sat slightly back, watching, cataloging, learning.
Chains Of The Heart Chapter 117
Rowan was going to lose his mind.It wasn't a dramatic declaration. It was a simple fact, settling into his bones like the cold he couldn't quite shake. He had been in this room—this perfectly comfortable, perfectly appointed, perfectlyboringroom—for what felt like an eternity. The fire crackled. The bed was soft. The food was adequate.And Rowan wanted to scream.He had never been good at sitting still. As a child, he'd driven his tutors to distraction with his constant movement, his endless questions, his need toknowwhat was behind every door and around every corner. Alistair used to say that Rowan would climb a mountain just to see what was on the other side, even if there was nothing there.That hadn't changed.
Chains Of The Heart Chapter 116
The journey from the border to the capital of Thornwick took the better part of a day.Silas kept his team moving at a steady pace, neither hurrying nor lingering, watching the landscape shift around them as they traveled deeper into friendly territory. The snow here was lighter, the roads better maintained, and the few villages they passed looked almost prosperous—a stark contrast to the war-torn regions they'd left behind.By late afternoon, the capital rose before them.Thornwick Castle was not built for intimidation. Its towers were graceful rather than menacing, its walls decorated with intricate stonework that spoke of artistry rather than defense. Banners flew from every parapet, bright colors against the gray sky, welcoming rather than warning.Silas filed that observation aw
Chains Of The Heart Chapter 115
The rider left the Cross estate at a pace that would have impressed even the most hardened courier.Nathan had chosen him carefully—a young man named Derrick, quick-witted and steady-handed, with a knowledge of the Mercer territory roads that bordered on obsessive. He carried Rowan's letter in an inner pocket, close to his chest, and he had been given exactly one instruction:Deliver it to Lord Cassian or Lord Alistair. No one else.Derrick intended to do exactly that.The Mercer estate rose out of the snow like a fortress carved from silver and memory.Derrick approached at a measured canter, not wanting to appear urgent enough to cause alarm, but not so slow that he'd freeze before reaching the gates. The guards spotted him from a distance—he could see them straightening, hands moving to weapon hilts with practiced ease.He reined in before the gate and held up empty hands."I come with a message," he called. "For Lord C
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