His eyes immediately fell on the silent guard standing near the door to the cell, his face impassive and his eyes locked on the three spies as if he expected them to stage some daring attack on the king. Part of Caelan wished they would despite being incapable of moving more than an inch from their current position. He wanted to angrily lash out at someone, to rage at the world for everything he’d lost.
But all his heart wanted to know was why this man watching over him wasn’t Drayce.
“Tell General Morgan we’ve prepared another batch for her to release,” Caelan murmured.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Adrian Westergren replied. He reached into a pocket on his neat black-and-green Royal Guard uniform and pulled out his cell phone. As he was typing out the message to the general, he stepped aside from the door to allow Caelan to cross into the hall.
Caelan’s gaze strayed over Adrian as he passed him, and his mind automatically made a comparative list. Adrian was at least four inches taller than Drayce with wider shoulders and a squarer jaw. His hair was somewhat blond but held far more brown. It was also neatly trimmed, where Drayce preferred messy spikes, as though he wanted to constantly appear as though he’d just crawled from bed. In Drayce’s case, that was usually true.
Most startling was that Adrian’s eyes weren’t brilliant emerald green. They were almost a steely gray, filled with wariness for his new king. Caelan didn’t blame him. He’d had no qualms about dipping into the guard’s mind to check that he would not prove to be a traitor later like Chancellor Octavia Croft. The man had been loyal to Queen Amara, and while he was somewhat unsure of Caelan, he believed in giving his king a chance to prove himself. What memories he found in Adrian’s mind of himself, they were all the times Caelan had been sent off to cut a ribbon, wave at the citizens of Erya, and make general public appearances. Why would he ever think Caelan had the ability to lead Erya if that was all he knew?
Gods, he missed seeing those emerald-green eyes dancing with laughter as they watched him throughout the day. He wanted Drayce home. He was willing to forget about the years of lies and deception if he could just see Drayce again, know that he was okay.
Clenching his teeth, Caelan swallowed down the sigh that had risen in his throat and forced his mind to the mountains of problems that needed resolving prior to their departure for the Isle of Stone as Nyx had directed him.
He strode out of the cell with Adrian on his heels, the door closing with a loud, echoing clang. It wouldn’t be long before General Johanna Morgan sent soldiers to fetch the New Rosanthe spies so they could be carefully released a good distance from Stormbreak.
The air was growing bitterly cold, and the promise of the first snow hung in the air for Stormbreak. He’d heard that the most northern reaches of Erya had been hit with heavy snow two nights ago, and the icebreaker ships were being prepared for the winter patrols of God’s Throat.
The narrow bay entrance that allowed ships to reach Stormbreak regularly froze over or became choked with icebergs during the winter months. If anything good came of winter, it was that New Rosanthe was less likely to strike with its navy during that time. The waters surrounding Erya and Caspagir grew too treacherous. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Ilon.
Just thinking of Ilon brought another sigh to his lips. The oldest ally of Erya had been growing quieter and more distant over the past several months. He’d tried to chalk it up to the death of Queen Amara and the attack of New Rosanthe, but with the Empire ejected and Caelan on the throne in Stormbreak for more than a month, it still didn’t feel as if the situation had improved.
Rayne, at least, didn’t seem worried. He’d counseled Caelan to be patient. With both countries dealing with New Rosanthe, now was not the best time to enter into any kind of new negotiations or political ties. It was better if both countries gave each other some space until the general atmosphere of Thia was calmer. Besides, it wasn’t like Caelan didn’t have enough to keep him occupied.
His footsteps echoed off the worn stone floor, bouncing off the walls of the other cells. They were nearly all empty now. The New Rosanthe prisoners captured within Stormbreak had been moved to another prison outside of the capital. The emperor was refusing to negotiate an exchange of prisoners and wouldn’t give any assurances that these men, if released, wouldn’t be put back on the frontlines against Erya to fight once again. So, for now, they remained in Erya.