Song vibe: = (Equal Sign) – J-Hope

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  FELIX

  Brightwood Manor, Hart Mountain

  Felix rubbed his eyes. Two weeks of broken sleep, yet he could not begrudge it. Beside him, Marigold lay with Charmaine suckling at her breast. His wife’s eyes were closed, drifting in that fragile half-rest of motherhood.

  “Morning, my sunshine.” He moved the strap of her slip aside and stroked her bare shoulder. "Remember? The Lady of Firestone summoned me. Will you be alright today?”

  “Can’t ignore our beloved Lord’s wife,” Marigold chuckled. Her slender hand reached for his, fingers threading through. “Don’t forget Saphira’s dresses. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” Felix whispered, grinning like a fool.

  He pulled on his boots and glanced around the chamber. Carved beams, bright hangings, fire warm on the stone. Outside, storehouses filled with grain, a stable full of horses, a vault full of gold. Brightwood Manor—earned by my swords, a haven for Marigold and my children.

  Above: Felix, Marigold and baby Charmaine.

  I was eight when my father died. Too young to be the Chief of the Sunfire Clan. Uncle Selwyn became caretaker, supported by Uncle Quintus. Felix snuck over to their bed and kissed the back of Charmaine’s head, taking in the milky newborn scent. My little light and my lowlander wife. My uncles wanted me to cast Marigold aside. Marry Gorda, my cousin. Strengthen the Sunfire Clan.

  Nocturne intervened. Crossing the room, Felix quietly shut the bedroom door. He supported my choice, even if it cost him Selwyn’s respect.

  "Daddy!" Isaias came bounding down the hallway, jam smeared across his mouth, with all the energy and destructive force of a four-year-old boy. Felix caught him up, tossed him until they both could not stop laughing.

  “C’mon,” Felix said, rubbing his son’s flaxen blonde hair, “Help me say goodbye to Scarlet.”

  In the stables, Isaias helped tighten the girth, small hands fussing with the strap as solemn as a knight. Scarlet tossed her head, ears pricking at Felix.

  “You remember Saphira, don’t you, girl?” He rubbed her muzzle. “Spoiled rotten here at Brightwood, but it’s time you went back to Firestone. Your mistress will need you.”

  Isaias frowned up at her. “She’s Whiskey’s foal, isn’t she?”

  Felix nodded. “Aye. Whiskey was Nox’s first mount—steadfast as stone. Scarlet’s her daughter. Different sire to Gin, but both came of Whiskey’s line. Gin’s his pride now.”

  Above: Father and son get the horses ready.

  His gaze softened as it lingered on Scarlet. “Her old master was Thelonius, Vicar of the Ashen Blades.” Felix’s throat tightened. “Until Golgog.”

  “—Are those tears, daddy?”

  “He was a good man.” Felix’s throat tightened.

  Scarlet blew warm air against his hand, as if in answer. Felix straightened, ruffling Isaias’s hair. “Let’s secure Mommy’s dresses.”

  In Benny's saddle, Felix rode in the winter morning, frost biting at his cheeks. The road stretched ahead—the same road they had taken half a year ago, riding from Firestone to Renatus.

  Edwin’s orders still echoed in Felix's memory. Let Crassus think you’ll wed Celestine. Take Saphira. He’ll try to trick you out of your conjugal rights. Let him believe he’s won. Slay Golgog. At that point, Edwin had smiled, wolfish. When you’re denied your bride… then I get my war.

  The memory settled like a weight in Felix’s chest. His thoughts turned to that night...

  _____

  Six months earlier...

  Felix sat hunched at Nocturne’s war table, maps spread wide, hooked sword within reach. The candle had burned to a pool of wax; the Ashen Blades had long since returned from the wedding feat—all except Nocturne.

  Before they left the hall, Felix had seen the look in Nox’s eyes—Val’s cloak on his shoulders, a knife at his side as he ordered, If I’m not back by dawn, search Crassus’s dungeons.

  The flap stirred, along with the familiar sound of heavy boots on wet earth.

  “Fye, Nox!” Felix jumped to his feet. Relief struck him, sharp and painful. “What in the pits did you do?”

  “It’s almost dawn.” Nocturne stripped off his gloves, tossing them onto the table with a wet slap. “Why aren’t our men preparing to leave?”

  “What exactly happened?”

  Nocturne’s lips pressed together. “Nothing.”

  “Of all men—" Felix’s jaw locked as he took a step forward, golden eyes hard "—you don’t get to lie to me.”

  "You want the truth?" Nocturne’s finger traced over the hilt of his dagger. “I spent the night with my wife.”

  Felix swore, low and foul.

  Flinching, Nocturne looked away. “I intended to send a message to Crassus. No one saw us. She—” his shoulders slumped “—She meant her vows. Every word.”

  “Why?” Felix dragged a hand down his face, groaning. “For her, it’s not a night. It’s her life—her honour. You’ve bound yourself to her, forever.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “I didn’t force her.”

  “That’s not the bloody point!” Felix’s nostrils flared. “Did you consider what you'll do if Edwin orders you to discard her? When Crassus finds out?”

  “I won't let them ruin her."

  "You've ruined her!" Felix leaned in, voice shaking. “You don’t take a girl’s first night unless you mean to protect her! That’s honour, Nox. Manhood.” Silence pooled between them. Felix exhaled, all restraint dissolved by his disappointment. “Wives bear heirs. Is she ready for an empty womb?"

  “What are you saying—” Nocturne’s bitter laugh filled the tent “—that she’ll whore herself out, like Angelica?”

  Felix’s gut lurched. “And when Golgog twists your memories of her, the way spawnlords have tormented me with Marigold? Almighty, Nox—you should have left her untouched. That would’ve been mercy—for both of you.”

  The sleeve of Nocturne’s shirt slipped down, showing a lock of braided lavender hair at his wrist, glimering with fresh magic. Nocturne closed his eyes, his voice low. “Call it lust, call it folly—I don’t care.” He looked Felix dead in the eyes. “I know who I need beside me. With the Mountain Knights, I knew when I met them. I’ve never felt that certainty with a woman—until now. She’s mine. Not because Edwin ordered me. Because I chose her.”

  Above: Nocturne tells it straight.

  Felix studied him, heart heavy. “You’re that serious about her?”

  “She’s mine."

  Felix’s anger eased into weary resolve. He gave a single nod, heavy as an oath. “Then I’ll protect her too—as you did for me and Marigold. Almighty help us both.”

  As Nocturne retreated to his tent, Felix sat back in his chair. Nox was never the same after Angelica. This wedding was just another order from Edwin. Consumating it? Nox scoffed at the idea of touching Crassus' bloodline.

  He looked at the map, where Golgog's territory had been marked. Almighty...what type of woman must she be?

  ______

  At the present day...

  As Felix rode closer to Firestone, he felt the change in the air. Limewash on the walls, sawdust in the air. The usual sleepy, unnatural haze that seemed to wrap around Firestone was gone. Guards standing taller, new servants everywhere—busy, eager to please. Yet the old Sunfire servants watched him with the same sharp eyes, whispering among themselves.

  I’ll keep an eye on the older servants, Felix thought. We Sunfires are stubborn, but we come around if it’s best for the Mountains.

  Saphira stood on the steps with Rell, holding up samples of stained glass. The squire lifted each to the sun, colours spilling over her face, light blinding her eyes, until she shoved him. He pushed her back, laughing, then caught her when she stumbled.

  “Almighty, just like siblings,” Felix muttered with a smile. "We're all Rell's got. Now he's got her to annoy, too."

  Damn you, Nox—you knew we needed her, in ways even you may not understand. His heart swelled watching Saphira in Marigold’s old dress. Will her tender heart survive our Nox? He’s loyal, yes, but affection? Warmth? That’s a rarer gift. If he finds it, she may love him. If not… Almighty knows he’ll break permanently if another marriage falls apart.

  “You arrive unannounced, young nephew,” came a voice.

  “I was invited by the Lady of Firestone, Uncle.” Felix dismounted, nodding his head.

  Quintus’s eyes narrowed. “Would it not be respectful to send word to your uncle, too? Or has the Sunfire blood run cold in your veins?”

  “I forget nothing,” Felix said smoothly. “My father’s blood burns hot in me.” He bit his tongue. Rein it in, Felician. Take your father’s seat when the time is right. For now, focus on establishing Saphira’s place as Countess.

  “I value your counsel, Uncle. You’ve long served Firestone and the Sunfires.”

  “Good. I was beginning to worry.” Quintus exhaled, gaze on Saphira. “All this could have been avoided had our lord made your cousin Lady of Firestone.”

  “Lady Gorda?” Felix stiffened. “The Yule Clan would never have stood for it.”

  Quintus gave a thin smile. “The Yules bluster, but they always yield. War comes, nephew—it always does when a man’s lust governs his house.”

  Felix hid the twitch in his eyebrows with a smile. Nobody can know that war is exactly what King Edwin wants.

  Quintus’s smile cut as he watched Saphira. “No flames jumped, no wine shared, no sword given. A camp wife without rites is no wife, only a whore who will be shown the door.”

  Almighty, he’s right—they're not married under mountain rites. Felix’s gut clenched. To them, she’s nothing.

  “Nox is serious about her,” he managed. “He’ll do what it takes. Won’t back down.”

  “I respect his strength—he has bled for the mountains,” Quintus allowed. “But it is the girl I doubt. Will she endure, or will she break?” His gaze shifted to Rell, laughing with her in the sunlight. “Look there. Can you truly imagine the Count giving her softness like that? The softeness she craves..."

  Felix’s chest tightened, feeling an uncharacteristic hopelessness pull at his heart. Fifteen years I’ve followed him. Cold. Unyeilding. Almighty... a harsh man for any woman to wed. His hand dropped to the hilt of his hooked swords—the only blades the Mountain Knights carried that could heal as well as kill. That’s my place. To bridge the gap. To help him be more than commander—husband, Count... man.

  “Then what are you proposing?”

  Above: Quintus and Felix talk.

  Quintus leaned closer. “Better to send her to a convent than see her disgraced. If her heart clings to Nocturne, let her live as a kept woman—Sir Augustus’ lodge is far away enough. She’ll have gold, dresses, comfort—and his bed when he wishes it. But leave Firestone’s seat to a Mountain wife who can anchor his rule.”

  “You mean Gorda,” Felix said flatly.

  “Your cousin is the obvious choice. But—” Quintus said smoothly “—any Sunfire who understands our ways will do. Give him heirs with pure blood.”

  Fye. That’s his plan. Felix studied him—aged, tired, clinging to power in a world that had moved beyond him. I can’t lie to his face—but if I push him away, he won’t confide in me.

  “And if Nocturne refuses?”

  “The mountains are cruel, Felician. Unforgiving.” Quintus’s gaze turned bleak as he turned away. “Make sure our Lord knows that, will you, young nephew?"

  Felix watched his uncle walk away, stomach heavy. My heart is torn. I should be at Brightwood, holding Marigold and our baby. But I have to step up—strengthen Saphira's place while Nox is away.

  Across the courtyard, Saphira spotted him and waved. Felix’s face split into a boyish grin, pale-gold eyes lighting up. Laughing aloud, he bounded to her.

  “Saphira!”

  Before she could answer—before he could stop himself—he swept her into a crushing bear hug and spun her round. “Look at you! Nox would be proud.”

  “Truly, he…would?”

  “Of course. He’d grunt, maybe crack half a smile, but inside? He’d be beaming.” He gestured behind him as a stable hand brought Scarlet forward. “And look who I brought home.”

  Her breath caught as she touched Scarlet’s flank. The mare leaned into her, nickering softly before nosing at her hand. “She remembers me!” Saphira’s cheeks flushed with laughter. “Thank you, Felix. For bringing her back.”

  “She was always yours,” he replied gently, his voice hardening. “And so is my loyalty, m’Lady. Never doubt it.”

  As Saphira stroked the mare, Felix drew close to Rell. “How is she, truly?”

  “Busy." Rell shrugged. "Your Uncle Vulture sneezes, and then declares that the hall needs re-cleaning. But ignoring the snakeroot, the falling beams, the ledgers—”

  “Not the work,” Felix cut in, eyes hard. “Her.”

  “Stubborn as Nox.” The boy’s grin faded. “Won’t admit she’s burning out. And the nightmares? Harder to hide. The servants are already wagging tongues. She's...strange." The skin around his eyes wrinkled. "But kind. Too kind for this place."

  Felix gripped Rell’s shoulder—solid now, nineteen and broad, yet still untamed. A man in build, a boy in judgment. Too eager, too boundless. And she’s far too inexperienced to set boundaries.

  “Stay close,” he counselled. “You’re the only one who can keep her from wearing thin. But mind yourself, lad. People twist what they see. Guard her, aye—but guard her reputation too.”

  Rell nodded, his expression as hard as iron. “‘Show no mercy,’ were Nox’s words. I’ve never disobeyed an order. No matter the cost.”

  Felix held his stare. For a heartbeat, he did not see the boy, but the warrior carved in the spawnpits—cold, pitiless, ready to kill without hesitation.

  Almighty. No wonder Nox keeps him close. A chill crept into Felix’s bones as he turned back to Saphira. It isn’t his sword hand I fear—it’s that he’ll follow an order so blindly, he won’t see the cliff until he’s gone over.

  "Is everything alright?" Saphira asked, her striking purple eyes wide.

  "Of course," Felix assured. He rested his hand on her shoulder, smiling down at her. If she falls, Nox falls too—and I won’t let anyone break them.