The air in the archives was dry and quiet — the kind of silence that felt sacred, or secret.
Alric rarely came here.
It was a place for scholars and clerks, not soldiers and dukes. But today, he searched not for knowledge — but for truth.
Sir Caelan stood by the heavy doors, silent and watchful. Inside, Alric moved slowly, fingers grazing the edges of scrolls, ledgers, and sealed records. The room smelled of ink and time. He stopped in front of a narrow shelf — the private correspondence vault.
It was locked, but that never stopped a man who had once led armies through burning cities.
He inserted a small key, one his father had given him long ago. The lock clicked open.
He searched carefully.
And then he saw it — a parchment slightly out of place, bearing the seal of House Velyrian, the royal crest.
His blood ran cold.
The letter was addressed to the High Lords of the Eastern Provinces.
And it was in Saren's handwriting.
Hands steady, he broke the wax and unfolded it.
> "…You swore allegiance to the crown, not to the man who wears it. If you still believe in the rightful heir, I will have proof of loyalty sent with Darian's report. The Duke trusts me. The court sleeps. If we act swiftly, this empire can belong to the one who deserves it…"
He read the words again.
And again.
It didn't make sense. It was treason. But it was also... calculated. Cold.
And not a single word felt like the woman who had lain beside him only nights ago, whispering that she'd love him until the stars forgot to shine.
He heard footsteps.
Alric turned just in time to see Caelan approach, eyes wary. "Anything, my lord?"
Alric slid the letter into his coat. "No," he said calmly. "Just old war records."
He walked out slowly, but inside, his chest felt like a battlefield.
If this letter was real — truly hers — then he was no longer a husband.
He was a pawn.
But a question remained — why had she never sent it?
Because maybe, just maybe… she hadn't meant to.
.....to be continued....
Author's Note:
The scales tip, and the balance begins to shatter.
Alric stands at the crossroads of betrayal, caught between love and truth. A single letter, and the walls around him begin to crumble. His world, built on loyalty, honor, and the woman he vowed to protect, is now fractured by the very words she wrote.
And yet, there's something here — a gap between what is said and what is felt.
Saren's intentions remain a riddle, and Alric's choices grow ever more treacherous.
The shadows close in, and with every step, he wonders: Is she still the woman he married, or has she become something else entirely?
For now, Alric moves with quiet resolve, searching for answers — even if they mean tearing apart the very fabric of everything he believes in.
—The author, watching Alric navigate the battlefield of his own heart.