Beyond the Veil of Yonder (Book 1)

32. The Lurking Perils

As William watched Elizabeth hastily retreat, he furrowed his brow, pondering what he'd done wrong. Had he offended her? Was there something in his demeanour that frightened her? His mind raced, replaying their brief conversation and trying to identify any subtle cues he might have missed.

'We were holding hands... What a strange custom.' The simple contact had unsettled him. It seemed oddly intimate. He wasn't certain if he'd followed the gesture properly. Maybe it was the reason for her sudden departure.

She'd appeared anxious but sincere, with no trace of her earlier playfulness. The touch of her hand had been warm, even fragile, and he couldn't shake the memory of her lingering gaze. But she had seemed uncomfortable around him, and that was disturbing.

'A cursed one,' 'harbinger of death'—these were just a few of the names his foes had given him. For many, he was a symbol of destruction. And he did bring death with him.

William's heart clenched. Perhaps an innocent soul like Elizabeth could sense his darkness and was frightened. But maybe it was even for the best. After all he had witnessed and done, his place was not among the joys of life.

But when she had withdrawn her tender hand so hastily, a strange sense of loss pricked at his heart. Though it was subtle, it seized William's attention.

Why did he even linger on that? He had more pressing matters. William shook off thoughts of Elizabeth that had disrupted his earlier contemplation. Before her arrival, he had steeled himself for a conversation with Edward that he had delayed until now. He knew it would be difficult, but today, he would face his brother.

However, there were weighty implications—should any harm come to Edward, the burden of self-blame would be William's to bear forever. Despite this, William deemed it necessary, as he could no longer withstand the pressure.

༺ ✧ ༻

Twilight fell over Edward's home, and inside, the brothers sat before a crackling fireplace. The children were in their room, and Niamh was busy with her evening chores, leaving Edward and William in contemplative silence.

William cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. "When you asked about Aradon, I said everything was fine. But that wasn't entirely true."

Edward, who had been gazing into the flames, turned to William. Concern replaced the peaceful look on his face. "What's on your mind? The war is over. What troubles you still?"

William hesitated, his eyes reflecting flickers of firelight. "There's something I've been struggling with, Edward. Something I need to share."

Edward leaned forward. "I'm listening."

"The war is over, yes," William began, carefully choosing his words. "But Aradon might be on the brink of another conflict."

Edward's brow furrowed. "Another war? How?"

"Hartbert," William spat, his voice full of contempt. "He proposed peace to bide time and rebuild his strength. He's gathering an army again."

Edward scoffed. "That scoundrel is cunning as a fox and twice as ruthless!" His green eyes ignited with resolve. "If you want me to fight by your side again—"

William shook his head. "It's not that simple this time. There's a chance we can prevent another war entirely, at least for now."

"How?" Edward asked, crossing his arms.

William took a deep breath. "King Oswald's health is failing. When he dies, Aradon could descend into chaos if there's no strong successor. That chaos is exactly what Hartbert is waiting for."