The Oath Breaker

Chapter Five

Sera

Tomas found the letter pressed inside a treatise on oath-forging, misfiled among seized Bellhaven papers that no one had ever bothered to read.

"Sera." His voice was strange. "You need to see this."

We were in the archive's deep room, where the unclaimed vessels waited on their shelves — hundreds of glass jars holding memories no one had come back for. Dust lay over everything like a held breath. Tomas handed me a folded paper, the creases soft with age.

The handwriting was Mara's. I knew it the way I knew my own heartbeat.

My dearest C —

If you're reading this, then your warning came too late after all, or not at all, and I am writing to a ghost. They say Aldren moves against the border villages. They say the prince's colors were seen on the road. I told the village council it wasn't you. I told Sera it wasn't you.

I trust you. Whatever they say you've done, whatever crown you wear now — I trust the boy who carried my basket over the ford and promised, very seriously, that princes could be useful.

If Bellhaven burns, know I never doubted you.

— M.

My hands were shaking. "Who is C?"

Tomas swallowed. "There's a second page. It's — it's not in her hand."

He gave it to me. A few lines, cramped, military:

Intercepted at the border. The Veyne prince's courier never reached Bellhaven. By order of the crown. — R.

"Veyne," I whispered. "The prince of Veyne."

"Prince Caelan," Tomas said quietly. "Crowned King of Veyne last winter, after his father died. Sera — the Bellhaven ledgers. Aldren's soldiers wore Dorian's colors, but the order to burn the village — I've been tracing it. I think Aldren intercepted Caelan's warning on purpose. I think he wanted Mara dead because she'd befriended the enemy prince, and I think he wanted you to blame Dorian most of all."

The room tilted. Three years I had served Aldren for vengeance. Three years believing Dorian ordered the s*******r. And underneath it all, this: my sister had trusted a prince. A different prince. And Aldren had killed her for it and aimed my grief like a weapon.

"Tomas," I said, "does anyone else know about this letter?"

"No. I came straight to you."

"Keep it that way." I folded the letter with care and tucked it inside my bodice, against my heart. "I'm going to Veyne."

"What? Sera, you can't just—"

"I can. I will." My voice sounded like someone else's. "Caelan is reforging crown shards — Nessa's spies confirmed an oath-smith working day and night in his foundries. If he loved my sister, I need to look him in the eye before I decide whether he's my enemy."

That night I told Dorian. We were back in Bellhaven — we'd ridden home after the council, both of us raw. He listened without interrupting, his face unreadable, while the lamp burned low between us.

When I finished, he said, "Mara trusted a prince she barely knew."

"Don't."

"I'm not — Sera, I'm not making a joke." He took my hands. "I'm saying: she had good judgment about princes. She was right about me, eventually."

"She was right that you were worth saving. That's not the same as—" I stopped. "He was too late, Dorian. His warning never came. She died believing he'd abandoned her."

"Or," Dorian said gently, "she died believing he'd tried. Read the letter again. I trust the boy. She went to her grave trusting him."

Tears I hadn't permitted myself all day arrived at last. Dorian held me while the lamp guttered, and after a while he said, into my hair, "If you go to Veyne, I'm coming with you."

"You can't. Harth would call it fleeing, and the council—"

"The council can bite me." Then, softer: "Sera. Whatever's in me is getting louder. If I'm going to be taken — and I think I might be — I'd rather spend the days I have left at your side than locked in a room being safe."

I pulled back to look at him. "Don't talk about being taken."

"It's arithmetic, not prophecy." He brushed a tear from my cheek with his thumb. "But tonight, I'm here. That's the only promise I'm making — the small, true kind."

"Stay," I whispered.

"Always," he said, and for once, no silver answered.

Just words. Just us.