Whispers Of The Throne

Chapter 6

The nights grew colder in Hastings keep. Frost crawled across the narrow window of Alice’s cell, and though the guards kept a fire burning in the corner, the warmth never seemed to reach her bones. She wrapped her arms around herself, staring into the flames, wondering whether the cold came from stone walls or from what she had seen in Edmund’s eyes that morning in the courtyard.

The memory would not leave her. The black veins, the guttural sound in his throat, the way he had driven Varic to his knees like a god of war. She should have felt only satisfaction that the curse whispered about in taverns and camps was real. But instead, she felt unsettled. Because the monster stopped when she spoke.

And that meant, in some way, she did not yet understand, she had power over him.

The iron lock grated open, jerking her from her thoughts. Two guards entered, followed by Captain Varic himself. His temple was bandaged where Edmund’s blade had nearly split his skull, and his dark eyes glittered with resentment.

Up he barked.

Alice rose slowly, her chains rattling. Does your master need another audience?

Varic’s jaw tightened, but he did not answer. Instead, he and the guards escorted her through torchlit corridors, up twisting stairwells she had not seen before. At last, they emerged into the open air of the battlements.

The night sky stretched vast above them, stars glimmering cold and sharp. Below, the land rolled into darkness, the forest a black sea. And in that silence, Alice heard the distant thrum of drums. Not Hastings drums. Different. Fierce.

Rebellion.

Her heart leapt.

Varic watched her closely, as though gauging her reaction. They grow bold, he muttered, his voice pitched low. Too bold. He should crush them before the fire spreads.

Alice’s lips curved into the faintest smile. Perhaps fire is harder to stamp out than you think.

Varic turned sharply, his glare filled with suspicion. Before he could retort, heavy footsteps approached. Edmund emerged from the shadows, a cloak thrown over his shoulders, his gray eyes hard.

Enough, he said, and Varic stepped back instantly, bowing his head.

Edmund’s gaze shifted to Alice. You hear it too.

She tilted her chin. It is the sound of your enemies remembering they are not broken.

Something flickered in his expression anger, perhaps, or recognition. You think I fear a few starving rebels with stolen drums??

I think, Alice said evenly, that you are clever enough to know the sound of resistance is louder than any banner you hang.

The wing tugged at her hair, carrying the beat of the distant war song. Edmund stepped closer, studying her face as though he could read her thoughts. For a heartbeat, the night felt charged, as though they stood on the edge of something neither could name.

Varic moved forward, but Alice spoke quickly, her words sharp as a blade. You can silence me, Edmund, but you cannot silence them. Fire spreads. And when it reaches these walls, no curse will save you.

For once, he did not answer. He only looked at her, eyes shadowed, before defending the stairs and vanishing into the keep.

Back in her cell, Alice pressed her palms to the cold stone. She has heard the rebellion with her own ears. Hope surged, fierce and dangerous. But hope alone will not free her.

She would need allies. And perhaps though the thought twisted her stomach, she would need to learn more about Edmund’s curse. Because if she could master what frightened even his own soldiers, she might wield the one weapon strong enough to end him.

Outside, the drums beat on, a steady rhythm against the silence of the night.

And Alice, for the first time in weeks, allowed herself to smile.