Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

Bastien

Bending distance, Bastien stepped from his commander’s tent at the base of the Rosethorn Mountains—recently dubbed Camp Rosethorn—straight into Conclave Hall in Clairmont. All the royal families who repledged their loyalty and troops had been making their way to a staging area on the south side of the Rosethorn Mountains, and so far, they’d congregated almost fifty thousand foot and mounted soldiers, with more coming in every day. If this war were strictly about numbers and skills, Bastien’s army could take Kestevayne back easily.

But they still couldn’t defeat Ferelith’s blood magic, so they were waiting for Thalia to do her thing back in Clairmont, which would hopefully pave the road to victory.

Bastien immediately noticed the hall was empty of Conclave members. He walked back to the library and found that empty as well.

Ordinarily, that would concern him, but he knew all was quiet in Clairmont. Kieran had just switched out with him to watch over the base camp while Bastien checked on things back home.

Or more specifically, checked on Thalia. It had been six days since he last saw her, right after they’d returned to Clairmont from Heph’s house outside of Avery.

Kieran’s report was vague. He assured Bastien that everyone was busy with preparations, including the Conclave members, which explained their absence. But he’d stubbornly refused to provide any information about Thalia, how things were going with Amell, or if Heph had succumbed to blood magic again, which was ludicrous, of course. Bastien knew Kieran was withholding information so he’d be forced to go see Thalia. His brother was still convinced Thalia was Bastien’s soul mate.

Bastien had chosen not to bend distance directly to his house as he knew it would be empty. Upon their return to Clairmont six days ago, Thalia insisted that Heph be set up in a house that was big enough for her and Amell to stay in as well, so they could work on developing her shadow magic. Bastien didn’t like it, but she was focused on defeating Ferelith, so there was no need to argue.

That also meant there was no need for him to stick around to watch over her, because given her father was king of the Underworld—and Bastien grudgingly admitted, Amell seemed to care about her well-being—Thalia was as safe as one could be.

Part of Bastien recognized that Thalia had made a proactive choice to distance herself from him because he’d made no effort to legitimize his growing feelings. He’d had opportunities to admit that his heart was starting to feel, and yet he couldn’t speak the words.

Perhaps this was for the best. Bastien told himself all along that he did not possess the ability to feel what he once had for Thalia. So far, he was stubborn in his refusal to let go of control and free-fall into a relationship with her. He didn’t want to face the pain of losing her again, so it was simpler to just not have her.

To make things easier on himself, he took an active hand in gathering and staging the troops being gathered from the Sorin, D’Amuris, Groucutt, Baudin, and Foss royal families.

Yes. It was much easier for Bastien to stay away from Thalia because simply being in her presence made him want her. He wanted to drag her off to another dimension as he’d promised and have a life with her and leave all this pain and war behind. Bastien did not think he had the power to withstand an actual plea from her to fall back in love again, so he made himself scarce by staying at Camp Rosethorn, receiving updates from his brother.

Apparently, over the last six days, Amell and Heph had been working with Thalia to teach her not only how to use shadow magic but how to add her own blood to the mix to amplify the power in incredible ways. Bastien had no qualms with the use of blood magic. They were at the point they needed to do whatever they could to unseat Ferelith and retake their realm.

What he did object to was the fact that apparently Thalia and Amell were forging some type of legitimate father-daughter relationship. According to Kieran, they spent all their time together, and she seemed very happy and at ease in his presence. Heph seemed to genuinely like the Dark Fae as well, but that wasn’t a well-respected recommendation, in Bastien’s opinion, since Heph had been banished from Kestevayne for poor judgment.

Bastien knew he should feel glad for Thalia, for connecting with an unknown family member since her parents were dead, but he fucking hated that Dark Fae. Not because he was the evil ruler of the Underworld, and not because he’d slept with Queen Selena and may have used coercion to do so, but because Amell saw through Bastien with utter transparency and called him out on his weakness to claim Thalia as his own.

Leaving Conclave Hall, Bastien walked through town. He stopped to talk to people here and there. Everyone was at work, readying for war. All available hands strung bows and notched feathers in arrows. Blacksmiths were on extra duty to fill the armory with swords, daggers, and battle-axes. Seamstresses cobbled together leather armor to help protect the soldiers, and extra hands were in the fields harvesting as much food as possible to feed the troops. Hunting parties raided nearby areas outside the cloak, and meats were salted and smoked for transportation to the troops at Camp Rosethorn.

Bastien went straight to the military compound at the edge of town and checked on the contingent of men who’d been left behind for protection. He watched their training exercises and when he could delay it no longer, he sought out Thalia.

Crossing the large courtyard framed by barracks, Bastien headed back toward town. He’d set Thalia up in a larger home than his so that she, Amell, and Heph could each have a bedroom although Kieran reported that the Dark Fae never seemed to sleep. Bastien wanted Thalia to be comfortable and have space to work.

Just as he stepped onto the sidewalk, someone blocked his path and brought him up short. He blinked, surprised to see Merrilyn looking up at him, a basket of dried herbs hanging from the crook of her elbow.

“Hello, Bastien.” Her tight smile was forced.

“Merrilyn,” he acknowledged curtly. He looked around and didn’t see anyone nearby waiting for her. “What are you doing here?”

She shrugged. “Just delivering some herbs from my garden to the apothecary. I saw you walking and thought I’d say hello.”

Bastien relaxed slightly as it didn’t seem to be an ambush. “Are you doing well?”

Her face screwed up in distaste. “Do you mean, how am I doing since you unceremoniously dumped me? I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

Bastien could tell in just those few words that she was not fine and was itching for a fight. He supposed he had it coming—he hadn’t given her much opportunity to try to hash things out when he broke things off. But once Bastien made up his mind about something, there would be no dissuading him, and further conversations were a waste.

He wasn’t about to engage her now. He tipped his head respectfully. “It was good to see you.”

Stepping past her, he ignored the curse she lobbed his way. And while he wasn’t suffering any guilt or regret for breaking things off, he was truly sorry that her feelings were hurt. He just didn’t have time right now to soothe them.

He had a war to win.

Bastien strode down the block and hung a right. Ahead he could see the cottage Thalia had moved into. He gritted his teeth to see Amell walking out, the Dark Fae’s eyes already locked on him. Somehow the bastard knew he was coming and clearly wanted a private word.

Bastien stopped where he was and let Amell approach him. A couple walking along the sidewalk scurried across the street. Amell was an imposing figure who naturally struck fear in others.

Word had gotten around town there was a fae in Vyronas, but it was kept secret who he actually was. It would cause a panic that the king of the Underworld was here, and no matter how faithful the people of Clairmont may be, they didn’t want to risk that particular fact getting back to Ferelith. The only people who knew Amell’s true identity were Bastien, Thalia, Heph, and Kieran, and Bastien intended to keep it that way. Not even the Conclave would know.

Amell stopped in front of Bastien, who nodded toward the cottage. “Is Thalia in there?”

The Dark Fae crossed his arms over his chest. “She is, but I would have a word with you first.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little soon to be playing the concerned father?” Bastien taunted.

An evil grin flashed back at him. “If I were truly the concerned father you think I am, I would have reduced you to ash and tossed your soul into the Crimson River for eternal torment.”

Bastien almost laughed at the angel, but he refrained. He didn’t want the Dark Fae to ever think he liked him.

Because he didn’t.

He was grateful, however, for the help he was giving, so he made sure to not overtly antagonize. But once Amell left Thalia’s life, Bastien hoped he’d stay away forever.

“My daughter loves you a great deal, and I can’t figure out why,” Amell mused.

Bastien struck a casual pose, resting his forearm on the hilt of his sword. “She’s not your daughter.”

“Semantics. But I’m here now helping her, and I wish to see her happy. I cared for her mother.”

Bastien snorted. “How could you care for a woman you didn’t even know?”

Amell looked aggrieved and pounded his fist on his chest. His tone was sarcastic. “That really hurts… your lack of faith in me.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Bastien muttered.

“I have a heart bigger than yours,” Amell said with confidence. “I have the capacity for love whereas you can’t even imagine it anymore. You might care for Thalia, but you’re not good enough for her. I know you want to protect her, but that’s your duty. If you really want to protect her from pain, you should leave her alone. She deserves someone who loves her deep from the soul, someone who wouldn’t be able to live a single day without her. If you continue to only give her crumbs, she’ll continue to eat them all up, but she’ll starve because she’ll refuse sustenance that’s better for her. It’s not a kind life, and if you have any caring whatsoever in you, you know that the only way she’ll truly be happy is if you get out of her life for good.”

This stunned Bastien to speechlessness, although admittedly, he’d kept distant from Thalia the last six days for those exact reasons Amell just laid out. But the thought of not being in her life at all didn’t sit well with him. While he figured they would never have a loving, monogamous, permanent relationship, he’d always imagined she would be within eyesight of him so that he could always look after her.

But would that be a disservice to Thalia? Admittedly, Amell made a point that Bastien had to consider, and he was apparently doing it from a place of care for his daughter.

It threw Bastien backward into a deep memory of when King Jaron had asked for something very similar.

The ruler of Kestevayne had sought him out on the training field to ask for a private word. By the expression on Jaron’s face, Bastien was immediately concerned.

“Is Thalia all right?” he demanded of the king, reaching for his sword. It was ridiculous, really, that he would want to palm his weapon merely because the king’s expression concerned him, but there was no choice in his protectiveness of Thalia.

She was his, and he’d never let anything hurt her.

“Rest easy,” Jaron said, holding out his hand. “She’s fine. But her safety could be in jeopardy, which is what I want to talk to you about.”

Bastien relaxed slightly, releasing his hilt. The king walked, and Bastien fell into step beside him.

“Our scryers who divine the future have seen some troubling signs,” Jaron said, but this didn’t bother Bastien. Scrying was an accepted magical practice, but there was a lot of guesswork in it. Major decisions were never made merely on what scryers saw in their reflecting pools, but their findings were paid attention to. “They believe Kestevayne will be in peril.”

“Did they say when?” Bastien asked.

Jaron shook his head and stopped, facing Bastien. “I know you usually stay overnight with Thalia in her apartments.”

“Your Highness, I’m sorry,” Bastien stammered.

“That’s not why we’re talking, Bastien.” Jaron leaned closer. “You are with Thalia at night. You are her last line of defense should our palace ever be breached. You must be on guard and alert. If the need arises, swear to me you will get my daughter to safety… above all other loyalties.” Pausing, Jaron regarded him intently. “I know your duty is to the royal house as a whole, and then to your king and queen, but Thalia is more important. Do you understand?”

Bastien didn’t have any moral dilemmas with this request. “You have my word. No matter what my duties are to House Clairmont and to your throne, Thalia always comes first.”

Jaron smiled, his posture relaxing. He clapped Bastien on the shoulder. “That’s why I knew you would be the perfect mate for her. Thank you.”

With promise in hand, Jaron took Bastien right then and there to show him several secret passages within the palace. Bastien was stunned by the underground tunnel network. Jaron told him only the ruling sovereigns knew about them as they were a means of escape from treachery within the palace walls.

Each passage was protected by wards, and Jaron carefully demonstrated how to open every one. The last tunnel led out more than a mile underground from the palace into dense woods so overgrown with brush, no one traveled through them.

Because of Jaron’s foresight, when Ferelith infiltrated the palace that fateful night, Bastien was able to swiftly move Thalia to safety. Even though he’d given a promise, once Bastien got Thalia out, he struggled with whether to go back to save Selena and Jaron, but he remembered Jaron’s final words.

“You’ve promised me you’ll get Thalia to safety if we’re attacked, and I have full trust in you. But I also need you to promise me something else…”

“Anything,” Bastien assured him.

“Promise me you will always love Thalia—that you will never leave her.”

Bastien exhaled a sigh of relief, for that was an easy promise to make. “I will gladly promise you that, Jaron.”

“I know thatlook well, human,” Amell said, jolting Bastien out of his remembrance. “It’s the look of a man who has accepted what I’ve said.”

“I accept nothing of what you said,” Bastien replied, eyes locked with the dark king’s.

“You should.” Amell winked. “Because you know I’m right.”

Then the fallen angel disappeared into thin air, and it left Bastien shaken. Not the confrontation but because he had one of Thalia’s fathers wanting him to always be with her, and the other telling him to leave.

The only problem was, he had no clue what was truly right.