All Chapters of Chains Of The Heart: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Later when Damian returned.He didn’t knock—just opened the door and stepped inside like he owned the air Nathan was breathing.“Follow me.”No explanation. No visible anger. Just that voice—stripped of pretense, heavy with something Nathan couldn’t read fast enough to brace against. Nathan rose without argument. The corridor outside was almost eerie in its emptiness. The usual guards were gone, replaced by a scattering of men Nathan recognized by their silence and posture alone—Damian’s true loyalists. The kind who would saw off their own tongues before speaking a word of what they’d seen.They moved through the inner halls in clean, efficient silence. Nathan padded behind Damian, barefoot, pulse unsteady. Every step tightened the knot in his throat. No one stopped them. No one even bowed. It was as if the castle itself had been told to look away.Downward they went—past the polished stone, past the war room tier, into the belly of the estate where the torches burned lower and the wa

Rowan’s carriage disappeared past the gates, Silas riding ahead with a soldier’s precision and a guardian’s intent. The wheels rattled over the frost-stiff earth until the sound dulled into distance.Only when the last of the Mercer envoy passed beyond the outer watch did Nathan move.He turned—not to Damian first, but to Seraphine.She stood with her cloak still fastened, gauntlets dusted from the road, hair braided back in that severe Cross fashion. Her soldiers were already mounting, waiting for her word.Nathan approached her with quiet composure, though the tremor of farewell still lingered in his breath.“Will you stay for the evening?” he asked, voice steady but soft. “We can arrange rooms. It would honor us to host you at dinner.”Seraphine shook her head, a faint smile ghosting her features—not dismissive, but resolute.“I can’t,” she said. “I need to return before Victor makes a ruin of something in my absence. And he will want my own account of what took place here… not rum

Nathan didn’t wait for the silence to settle comfortably before he stepped right back into it.“This council,” he said, voice level, “exists to advise the king. That is its singular purpose. Yet here you are—judging, accusing, and posturing as if the crown answers to you.”That struck a vein.Several men shot to their feet again, the room bursting into another fit of indignant noise.One of the older councilors—the same one who’d slammed his palm earlier—pointed a finger like he was brandishing a sword. “Your involvement in this meeting is out of line, Your Highness. You are tasked with internal affairs only. You have no authority in military or diplomatic dealings.”Nathan didn’t look away. “And yet you had no issue discussing either without the king’s consent.”That pushed the man over the edge. He took a step forward—but Damian got there first.“Sit down,” Damian said, voice flat and dangerous.“I will not be spoken to—” the man began.Damian slammed his palm into the table with a

Seraphine entered her brother’s war room without waiting for permission. Victor Cross looked up from a spread of dispatches and maps, his jaw already set with the kind of anger that sharpened instead of burned.“You’re late,” he said.“You’re alive,” she countered, tossing Nathan’s sealed letter onto the table. “And the southern border hasn’t erupted into bloodshed. You’re welcome.”Victor broke the seal, eyes skimming the contents with a scowl.“So he just—released Rowan. No terms. No concessions.”“He released him to prevent your men from raiding the capital and turning our family name into a declaration of war,” Seraphine replied coolly. “If you still intend to mobilize, do it with the understanding that the result will be the swift eradication of our standing, and the Mercers will not thank you for starting a war they already avoided.”Victor slammed his palm on the table. “That boy sided with that cursed Vitale?”“He sided with avoiding catastrophe,” Seraphine said. “If you canno

Alessio didn’t turn immediately. He’d heard the door open—too quietly for most, loud as thunder to him—but he waited until the footsteps crossed halfway into the room before glancing over his shoulder.“Your Highness—” Silas stopped, eyes widening just a fraction when he saw who was standing there instead of Damian. Surprise flickered, then smoothed into neutrality with a speed Alessio privately approved of.“Silas,” Alessio said, voice a quiet warning wrapped in civility. “You walk into royal chambers without knocking now?”Silas bowed his head slightly in apology, but not submission. “I was told His Highness collapsed. I came to check on him.” His gaze slid briefly to the sleeping figure on the bed before returning to Alessio. “I expected the king.”“I imagine most people do,” Alessio said dryly, finally turning away from the window. He studied Silas like one might study a sword—sharp, useful, and liable to cut the wrong person if you blinked. “He was here earlier. He’s attending to