In the dark, damp cell, the air reeked of mud and rusted chains that bit into his ankles like tiny, impatient insects. The cold stone pressed against his back as he sat on the ground, staring at the ceiling, eyes half-lidded.
"It’s dirty," he murmured with a yawn, brushing away the lone tear that clung stubbornly to his lashes. Red surrounded his eyes. He had cried to the point they had swollen.
This morning, when he had stepped into General Zayden’s mansion during his absence, the guards had seized him without hesitation.
The general’s orders had been clear—strict action, no exceptions—and the staff had been warned. James wasn’t surprised. He’d expected this. He had earned it.
But then... the smell of the soil pulled him back to another day—another place.
Cael’s body had been just as cold, the weight of him still etched into James’s fingers as if he’d been carrying him only yesterday. When he last held him, clinging onto him, screaming for it to be a mere nightmare.
However, life wasn’t so gentle. It always stabbed deeper, each time in a new cruel method.
They said no one could slip away from the Duke’s grasp. Perhaps they were right—for anyone else. But James never cared about rules once his mind was set. He had sworn to avenge Cael, and he would, even if it meant rotting here.
Whatever punishment Zayden thought to give him was nothing next to the fire already burning in his chest.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the distance. James’ gaze drifted towards the person who walked towards him—General Zayden.
He sprang to his feet.
"You’ve dared to return... Should I compliment your bravery or stupidity?"
James tried to step closer, but the chains bound him. He pursed his lips, gaze low.
"It’s not that... I wish to stand by your side and fight the duke."
"Really?" He snorted, his voice laced with mockery and doubt.
"I don’t see why I should believe you. You’ve already betrayed me once... Who says you won’t do it twice?"
"I know what the duke is planning! I can help you!"
Zayden scoffed, arms crossed.
"Really? A man like you... who easily gives away his master’s secrets to his enemy... I don’t think you deserve my trust."
Just as Zayden turned to leave, James screamed.
The general raised an eyebrow, looking his way.
"I-I know his next plan. If... If it comes in handy, then promise me that you will help me ruin Duke Danman," his lips trembled—not in fear because his eyes were steady—but in anger.
Zayden’s lips curled into a smile.
"Did he wrong you, to switch sides ?"
"Because of his orders... Cael," tears formed in his eyes, his voice cracking.
"... My mate. He died carrying that man’s orders. Not only did the man not care, but he didn’t even grant him a proper funeral! If I hadn’t stepped in, wild animals would have torn him apart! The duke would have left him to rot somewhere in the woods!" James broke into tears, yet every word he pronounced laced with contempt.
Zayden stood in front of him without speaking. He let the man cry until he finally stopped.
"I don’t trust you," he finally said.
James’ gaze flickered up, eyes widening as he heard the general’s words. His last hope. His only way to face Cael after death.
"Don’t look at me like that. I’m not that cruel," he chuckled. His words sounded more like an affirmation to himself than an explanation meant for James. "I will count on you to bring down Duke Danman," he grinned.
The next day, at the meeting, an uproar rose the moment Zayden announced that he would give James a second chance. They couldn’t believe their ears.
"I apologize, My Lord, but this is ridiculous!" A knight cried, slamming his fist on the table.
"I agree!" Another nodded, supporting his colleague.
"How can you trust him, General?!" Helaine leaned closer, her voice pressed, lower than the others.
The general did fancy kindness, but never forgiveness. Those who betrayed his trust never saw the light the next day.
None of the knights who worked under him for years could wrap their minds around his decision.
A tense silence fell as all eyes turned toward Zayden, waiting for him to explain himself.
But the general said nothing, his expression unreadable, as if the question held no weight.
Finally, a young officer cleared his throat nervously.
"General... What guarantee do we have that James won’t betray us again?"
Zayden’s gaze sharpened.
"It is not trust. And there is no guarantee. Not after..." He paused, before continuing. "We can only rely on him to know the duke’s plan. I sent Zion, but he returned without much information on that matter. I cannot risk my son’s safety simply because I could not lean on someone who wished to help."
Murmurs filled the room. Some nodded grudgingly, others scowled, but no one dared voice more objections. General Zayden made the decisions. Their sole duty was to obey his every order. Yet, they mustered the courage to question him this time, hoping to convince him otherwise, but in vain.
He had the final say and they knew better than to challenge the man who protected the border like a sturdy, unwavering iron.
Ren stood silently beside Zayden, his gaze fixed on the restless crowd. The question gnawed at him—why would the general show mercy to James?
He remembered the night Hannah had told him about James. The very night Cael was found lifeless in the forest, after his body was sent to Duke Danman.
Unable to hide his curiosity, slightly guarding his guilt, he asked Hannah who Duke Danman was, and why the general did not punish him harshly for ’killing’ that man.
He shifted slightly, eyes narrowing. If James had truly returned to help Zayden, despite everything, then maybe the general’s choice wasn’t just mercy—but something Ren could not understand what it could be.
He wasn’t sure he was ready to meet the person who betrayed Zayden even after serving him for years.
Sometimes, loyalty was forged in a burning fire like blades—not forgiveness.
"My Lord, how will you keep that suspicious man in check? What if he harms someone in your absence?" Aarson raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed.