Novels2Search
The General's Prince
CHAPTER 18: The Forgotten Lover

CHAPTER 18: The Forgotten Lover

The carriage was silent except for the occasional sniff or grunt. It was a quiet ride to the castle. The couple within traded no words, lost in their own world and thoughts. They were not quite enemies, but friends felt inaccurate as well.

Nikolai studied his wife out of his peripherals. The young man avoided looking at her… attire. He sighed at the absurdly bright color.

Every few minutes, Faye would glance down and smirk happily at her gown. It was almost cute how excited the fearsome general was, if not for the troubling reason for her delight.

The Lord of Feldgrau rubbed the crease between his forehead. He was still reeling from the events before their departure. When Nikolai had first seen the general in the dress, he had choked, holding back a laugh. The obnoxious color and excessive frills did not suit the general. It was like she was wearing a walking cake. Apparently, with more than half the staff gone, Abby had not been able to send for a tailor. The horrid dress, which had been stashed away for safety, had miraculously been recovered by Faye. No one knew how. Or why.

Insistent on wearing the gown, everywhere the general went, the dress bumped against one thing or another. In one morning, she had tipped over more than a few precious heirlooms and countless treasures.

Initially, the lord had assumed that one of the servants played a trick on the general. A simple lie for one who was unused to their customs and styles. To his surprise, the general had worn a giddy smile on her face, practically skipping and curtsying to all she passed as they made their way to the carriage.

When he pulled the head servant aside, Abby had only sagged in defeat. “She refused to change,” the older woman stared helplessly into the distance.

The stoic lord’s jaws had dropped. “She chose to wear that?”

Seeing as the general still brought along her longsword, the lord wisely remained silent. Thus the quiet ride as they headed out to meet the queen and royal family.

Faye lifted the fabric. Her eyes glistened, watching the way the cheap jewelry glinted in the light.

Cocking an eyebrow, Nikolai finally asked, “What sorcery does this dress possess to have made you so happy?” HIs tone was indignant.

Dropping the fabric, Faye shrugged. The general crossed her arms. “I’ve never worn such beautiful things before.” Her nose crinkled. “Beautiful things do not suit the battlefield.”

Blunt nails picked softly at the poorly sewed-in flowers. “And we do not have such colors in the grasslands.” The small smile returned to her face.

Nikolai leaned back, slightly stunned. So it wasn’t a question of different backgrounds. That answered his next question.

The lord was close to scratching his head. “Did they not make you wear dresses in Wenge?”

The young woman barked out a loud laugh. Nikolai barely winced. It was slightly absurd, but he was beginning to grow familiar with the other’s usual volume.

“My father’s wives used to dress me in male clothes so that I would not outcompete their own daughters.” Faye had started wearing boy’s clothing before she was even ten years old. She could barely remember much from before that time. “It was amusing to them, and my father said nothing. When I was older, I took to the battlefield.” She shook her head. The loose warrior braids spilled onto her face. “Warriors do not need dresses.”

In her early days, it had taken everything to convince the men that she was one of them. Now, it was a habit to wear the light and flexible warrior cloths.

“Your mother did not defend you?” Nikolai shot her a curious glance. Surely, Faye’s mother, even if not of a high status, would not have allowed her daughter to be so humiliated. In Wenge, the Raven General was still a princess.

“She was not around to do so,” answered the other bluntly. The general looked away, face cloudy. In her lap, she clenched the fabric, almost tearing it with her strength. “Do not ask anymore.”

Blue eyes glanced away sheepishly. He had not known. Or bothered to know. The lord coughed, trying to change the subject. “You did not show such interest in the other dress.”

They both recalled the evening with the lord’s guests.

“That was not a dress,” scowled Faye, thinking back to the death trap Abby had forced her into. “It is a torture device.” Scarred hands smoothed the soft fabric in her lap. “This is different.”

That we can agree on, thought Nikolai wryly. He refused to stare at the color which made him nauseous. The lord glanced at the open admiration on the other’s face. He was caught off-guard. For the most part, it was easy to read Faye. She was flippant with her emotions, rarely finding it necessary to hide them behind a blank wall as he did.

For some reason, the displeased frown on her face made him uncomfortable. It was dangerous to sit in a confined space with an angry general, he figured.

“I suppose we could have some… more dresses ordered to the castle,” he offered as she began to fidget with the longsword.

A bright smile broke through the stormy countenance. Nikolai choked at the fast change. Had he just been manipulated?

“See that you do,” ordered the general.

Although he nodded, Nikolai winced at the thought. One ugly dress was enough … now they had to get more? Maybe he could ask for some alterations.

“They must look exactly as this one does,” she demanded.

The lord rubbed his brow. Was she trying to make the dresses a sort of uniform? He let out a snort. She was so different from the ladies he had grown up with. Powerful women who used their dresses and beauty as weapons. Even the queen had to play the game, using it to gain favor or make others envious.

The lord tapped the window. “Three.”

Amber eyes narrowed. “Five.”

Before he could object, Faye began to play with the sword. She slid out the blade as if to check her own reflection in the impeccable metal.. “Five,” the general repeated.

Nikolai scowled.

---

For all the headaches that he had suffered in the morning, nothing was more pleasing than watching the forced smile on Rewanna’s face. The ice prince almost had a smile on his blank face. He would get Faye a hundred dresses as thanks, Nikolai decided. The ugly color was even starting to grow on him.

For all her false poise, even Rewanna could not hide her unease as dark eyes followed the Raven General.

The sight brought an elated feeling to the young man’s heart. Especially as the queen tried and failed to compliment the preening general. None dared to say anything, especially as the longsword glinted right on top of the boisterous color.

“Mother,” smiled the young woman in delight, twirling the bunched-up fabric. “Is this not the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen!” It was not a question.

“It is,” Rewanna grimaced, smile faltering. “Very colorful, my dear.”

The general barked out a laugh. “I am sorry to say, it might be even more beautiful than yours!”

Choked off gasps and coughs filled the room. Even the guards’ faces turned red as they held back their laughter.

Nikolai swiftly looked away.

“Mother, I mean no insult. You are a beautiful queen.” Unheeding of others, Faye continued seriously. “We can have some ordered and sent to your castle if you would like.”

“Ah,” the queen floundered for an excuse. “That, that will not be necessary, general.” Her eyes drifted to the figure by Faye’s side. “I see your husband treats you very well.”

The reports stated that the couple were on bad terms. Although the two were far from affectionate, paranoia and suspicion surged their ugly heads in the queen’s heart. Her plan would only work if the two continued to be at odds.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The younger woman shrugged at that. “We are…amicable.”

Meanwhile, Nikolai held that hated blank expression on his face and said nothing.

The queen clasped her hands. “That is good, my dear. After all,” she smirked, ruby lips glinting. “It is so fortunate that your husband is but a lord, allowing you to ascend to Fadye’s place one day.” She pouted dramatically, voice lilting. “Imagine if he was the future king, you would have to give up your position to become his queen!”

The Raven General’s eager smile fell. The queen’s words were true. It was why Wenge had agreed to the marriage, and why Rewanna was so sure the union would keep Nikolai in check. It was common knowledge that the general coveted her position. She would not give it up for anything. Amber eyes drifted over to the lord. “It is good that my husband has no intention to change his position either.”

Catching the other’s eyes, Nikolai scoffed. The Lord of Feldgrau brushed himself off and turned on his heels. The young man strode out of the hall, and called in a bored voice. “I will leave you all now. There is business I must attend to.”

Silence followed him as he walked out.

Rewanna suppressed her sneer. The boy was impudent as always. He had a way of getting under her skin, even when it was she who held all the power. Just like his stupid mother, she thought vengefully.

“Mother?” questioned a voice.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Rewanna forced a smile. The queen got to her feet and gestured for her private chambers. “Come, my dear. We must meet the other ladies for tea.”

The general nodded sharply and stomped after the mother of the kingdom.

---

The royal dungeons were a dark place of forgotten souls. Muddy water dripped down from the rock ceiling. The smell of blood and shit permeated the air.

A deathly chill lay over the place, like a blanket of misery.

As Nikolai walked down the row of cells, the occasional hand would stick through. They were bones with skin, pale and veiny. Dust-filled and matted hair as well as deranged smiles followed him as he walked past. Nikolai kept a blank stare. Some of the braver cellmates spit at his feet.

The young man stopped at the final cell. Unlike the others, the form inside did not bother moving forward.

Blue eyes scrutinized the tangled hair clumps and overgrown nails. The prisoner was a shell of her former self.

“You have grown,” the voice was raspy with disuse. It sounded like metal scratching against rock, screeching and painful. “Missed me already?”

“What do you know of the Raven General?” asked the lord sharply. He knew the power of her poisoned words.

“The Raven General?” tittered the other. “I have been here this whole time, boy. How would I know?” Sharp, overgrown teeth smirked. “Unless I escaped?”

“You’ve done it before,” snapped the lord. “Came out to frame my brother for murder, then came right back Surely, you have not forgotten?”

The prisoner shrugged their bony shoulders.

Nikolai sneered, “I know you still receive information from him. Does it ever bother you that the Wolf continues to keep you updated but never comes to save you?” He crossed his arms. “I’ve heard the Wolf has had acquired another bride-”

“Shut up!” howled the prisoner, she banged against the bars, causing a ruckus. There was a wild glint in her eyes. “You shut up! Shut up!”

Nikolai rolled his eyes. “He was here two moons ago, you know. He could have done it then… but it seems you’ve been forgotten, Ismeylda. Your lover hadsmoved on, and still you work so dutifully for him.”

“You know nothing of our love, boy,” snapped Ismeylda. “It is a love of the gods! I would endure a thousand burning swords for him. And he would do the same for me.” She began to rock back and forth. “He would do the same. He would. He would!”

“The best assassin of Wenge, reduced to this,” laughed Nikolai. “If only you had poisoned me successfully, and you could have still been with the Wolf. But alas.”

The prisoner glared. “Have you only come to gloat?”

The lord stepped forward. He gripped the bars, knuckles whitening. “I want information. Who is the Raven General?”

“Why should I tell you,” snapped Ismeylda.

“Same as always.” A piece of paper was tossed into the cell, along with a bark of charcoal. Nikolai crossed his arms. “One message, I will have delivered to the place of your choosing.”

Ismeylda knew better than to ask why she should trust him. She had watched the boy grow up. Although he would read the message, it would be delivered. He was too soft-hearted to do otherwise. “Why should you trust me?”

“I don’t,” responded the lord.

Claw-like hands reached for the paper, snatching it up like precious treasure.

“Good,” hummed Ismeylada as she broke the charcoal in half to create a sharp edge. “You have not forgotten my lessons, then.” The prisoner shrugged, “I truly do not know of the Raven General, only that the Wolf loves and fears them equally.”

The makeshift charcoal pen twirled skillfully within the ex-assassin’s hands. If there were no bars between them, it be no feat for her to kill him with it.

The lord crossed his arms. “She calls him Uncle.”

The charcoal paused. The makeshift pen rolled out of her hands, clattering on the prison floor. It rolled to a stop right outside of the cell. Ismeylda approached the bars, but not for the pencil. Her clouded eyes were wide. “There is only one that he allows to call him Uncle.” Clutching her head, the woman let out a deranged laugh. “Of course it is her.”

“You know Faye?” asked Nikolai.

Ismeylda let out an incredulous bark. The woman howled with laughter. “Know her? The she-demon once beat me in a duel. Almost cut off my arm for being too close to her Uncle.” The prisoner held up her hand. She shrugged the threadbare prisoner cloth, showing a nasty scar that ran down her shoulder to her elbow. Clouded eyes found Nikolai’s, as they lit with understanding. “You called her Faye. No one calls her that.”

The lord’s brows furrowed.

Gnarled hands grasped the bar as they studied Nikolai. “They married you to the Raven General, didn’t they?” She smacked her lips, a note of awe in her tone. “What a move. Rewanna really hates you. Married to the she-demon herself.”

“What else do you know of her?” snapped Nikolai, beginning to grow impatient. “Why was she sent here?”

But Ismeylda did not relent in her taunting. “The she-demon and the ice prince. Yelani’s runt we used to call her.”

Nikolai’s eyes widened. “She’s Yelani’s daughter?” Yelani, who was Nikolai’s mother’s best friend and the main wife of Fadye? But why was the main wife’s daughter so mistreated after her mother’s death?

“Fadye hated the sight of weak children,” commented Ismeylda, as if reading Nikolai’s mind. “When the Raven General was born, she was as weak as could be. Many of her siblings before her had died in infancy. Most expected her to do the same.” Ismeylda paused, not many knew but, “Yelani was a good wife, but she never loved Fadye. I assume after her death, her daughter was forgotten.”

Ismeylda’s brows furrowed. She could barely make out the image of the runt that would sulk at the edges of gatherings and hack at the dummies after the warriors left to break for food. Only the Wolf took notice of her. The man had only liked rough and untamable things. “The she-demon had a nasty way with the sword.” Ismeylda shivered at the phantom pain of fighting with the demon brat. It had been years, but still. In a fair fight, the other could take her down. The runt hadn’t even been full grown then. The ex-assassin couldn’t begin to imagine what prowress the runt had now.

Nikolai was silent.

Ismeylda sighed. She had watched the boy since he clung to his mother’s dress. “That woman caused an entire clan to die to claim its soldiers for herself. The Raven General had conquered the grasslands for her father. Do you think she did that just for his praise?” She shot Nikolai a hard look. “You wish to ask me whether you can trust her.” When the lord looked away, she continued, “You want me to say yes. Trust your new wife.”

The prisoner sank to the floor. “You cannot. The only desire in her heart is to let all of Wenge finally recognize her. She will take her father’s seat no matter the cost.” She sniffed, “Including you.”

“Faye,” the boy, for that was what he was in her eyes, faltered, “The general, has not done anything to me…yet,” muttered Nikolai, hating how he felt like a child being scolded.

“Why do you think she’s here?” The deranged woman smirked, “Her father has sent her to kill a man.”

Nikolai looked away.

Seeing his tense form, the ex-assassin’s smirk widened. “Do you know who it is?” Seeing his lack of response, the prisoner barreled on. “The messenger! The messenger from the grassland war!” Her eyes were crazy. “To prove her worth, the general would kill an ally. The true savior of the war, she would murder in cold blood!” Her gaze hardened. “You ask why the general has come, that is why. You ask why she has not harmed you.”

Ismeylda barked out a laugh. “She has not needed to. But mark my words. Give her the slightest hint of doubt, and she will.”

The lord had heard enough. Ismeylda seemed to parrot the Wolf. And every other person by his side. But his eyes glinted.

“Think of how she cleared your residence of those rats,” called Ismeylda, cackling. “Destroying all and leaving nothing unturned. She’ll do the same to anything that threatens her claim. And Lord of Feldgrau, believe me when I say, you are on the very top of that list!”

The young man stormed out, not bothering to ask how the ex-assassin even knew all of that. His heart lightened and a small smirk played on his lips as soon as his back was turned to her. Ismeylda loved to gloat. The only way to get her information was to let her feel as if she had won.

He understood now.

The Raven General and the Lord of Feldgrau shared a kindred soul. It was a duty and passion that few could understand. He too had a goal that he would drag everyone around him down for. Nikolai would cut down any that stood in his path as well.

He hummed thoughtfully. A mission to kill the messenger. The ice prince sighed. It was good that only two men knew the truth, and he just so happened to be one of them.

The Lord of Feldgrau was not the same malleable boy that Ismeylda knew.

Blue eyes sharpened as they glanced at the guards by the door. “Send a copy of her message to my residence, then destroy the original.”

Soon the woman would realize what she let slip. Wenge could not know that he knew. The precious love letter with dangerous words would never reach the other side.

The guards nodded sharply. The pouch of gold sat heavy in their pockets.

Soon enough, the sound of scratching charcoal filled the musty air.