Chapter Eleven: The Hour of Secrets

The clock ticked past midnight.

Eden sat on the edge of her narrow bed, knees drawn in, arms wrapped around herself as if that might still the storm building in her chest.

1am. That was the message.

She had replayed it over and over in her mind since discovering the cloth in the pillow. Erec wanted to speak with her—alone. But what if he was angry? What if he confronted her lies? What if, worse, he didn’t believe them?

Would he protect her the way he had in the cell, when he said nothing at all?

Or would he betray her—again?

She glanced toward the door, wondering if she should even go. Maybe it wasn’t worth the risk. Maybe—

A soft knock cut through the silence.

She rose.

When she opened the door, the guard was there. The same one as before. Stone-faced, silent, and certain in every movement. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

She followed.

The halls were darker than usual, lit by only a few oil sconces that flickered weakly against the castle’s cold stone. The air felt still—too still. Not a single footstep echoed elsewhere. No distant murmur of servants, no metallic clatter of armor.

It was as if the castle had been emptied for her.

Of course, Eden realized, Cassian planned this. He had cleared the route. Ensured there would be no one to question why one of the king’s guards was walking a servant through off-limits quarters in the dead of night.

Cassian had said before—no one must know. Not about Erec. Not about Eden. He didn’t want whispers about siding with Cade, or consorting with traitors.

And Eden? She was his gem in the dark. Something too valuable to show the world just yet.

She hadn’t even seen Seraphine since that first day.

The hallway curved ahead. Just before the stone stairwell leading to the dungeons, the guard suddenly stopped and extended a firm arm in front of her, blocking her path.

Eden froze.

The silence was heavy.

Then she heard it—footsteps.

Soft, steady. Ascending the stairwell from below.

A few seconds passed. Then the door at the bottom of the steps creaked open, followed by another loud clang as it shut behind the intruder.

From where she and the guard stood tucked behind a wall, just out of sight, they heard the voice.

“Bastard’s late again. Screw this.”

The man’s boots clicked away toward the corridor housing the guard’s quarters. He muttered to himself until he vanished into the shadows, his presence forgotten.

Eden didn’t move. Neither did the guard.

Only when the silence returned did the guard finally step aside and nod, his expression unchanged.

She exhaled, only now realizing she’d been holding her breath.

Her fingers brushed the handle of the stairwell door.

It opened with a soft creak.

And she descended alone.

The air grew colder with every step. The scent of rust and damp stone greeted her like an old, unwelcome friend. Her footsteps were light, careful, deliberate.

The guard remained at the top, stationed where Cassian had likely told him to be.

This part was hers.

Eden stepped into the dark.

Toward the cell.

Toward her brother.

Toward the moment she could no longer take back.

The dungeon corridor stretched ahead, dim and still.

Eden approached quietly, boots brushing stone, the folds of her skirt whispering against her ankles. The torchlight flickered across the bars of the cell.

Then—

A sudden shift inside. A blur of movement.

Erec rushed forward, the chains at his wrists clinking, muffled as he tried to move without alerting the guard stationed above. He gripped the bars, breath sharp, eyes wide with something fragile and disbelieving.

“Eden,” he whispered, his voice cracking around her name. “It really is you, isn’t it?”

Eden stopped only a step away from him, her hand instinctively reaching for the bars adjacent to his.

Their fingers didn’t touch, but they didn’t need to.

Her green eyes locked with his.

And for the first time in years, she asked the question that had haunted her since she was a child.

“How are you alive, Erec?”

The words landed like a stone between them. Erec’s face tightened, guilt pressing through the lines time had carved into his skin.

He looked down. Then back at her.

“I was on the front lines when the fire happened,” he began. “The letter came three days after. From Father. His handwriting. His seal.”

He paused, jaw tightening.

“He told me not to return. Said no matter what I heard… I had to stay away. That it wasn’t safe.”

Eden’s breath caught.

“He told me to abandon you,” Erec continued, softer now. “I didn’t know why. I thought maybe—maybe there was still a chance someone had taken you in. That it was safer for you that way.”

Eden looked down at her hands, her voice barely a breath. “No one took me in. Not for years.”

Erec flinched, pain flashing across his face.

“I stayed away,” he said bitterly. “I followed his orders like a good son. Until Cade came for me.”

That name—Cade—settled into the space like ash.

“You knew him before the war,” Eden said slowly.

“We crossed paths at court. Briefly. He remembered me.” Erec leaned in, lowering his voice further. “He told me it was time to come home. That things had changed. That I could be safe—with him.”

Eden’s fingers tightened around the bar.

“Safe,” she repeated, with a bitter twist to the word.

“I need to get out of here,” Erec said urgently, eyes locked on hers. “They’re not questioning me yet, but they will. I can’t stay much longer. Eden, I need your help.”

She didn’t answer right away.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. Her thoughts raced, too fast to catch.

“I—” she started, then stopped. She took a slow breath. “If I help you… I can’t come back here. I’ll be marked a traitor. Where would I go?”

Erec stepped closer, close enough that she could see the ring of gold still hidden in the green of his eyes—their eyes.

“With me,” he said, simply.

“Come with me, Eden.”

The silence stretched between them—thick with the weight of the past, and the pull of a future neither could yet see.

Eden didn’t say yes.

But she didn’t say no.

Not yet.