Married To Darkness-Chapter 435: THE next Plan

Two Days Later, The morning air was sharp, tinged with the earthy scent of dew and the faint iron tang of old stone.

Horses were saddled, bags were strapped, and the great bronze gates of Embrez Moor Mansion creaked open slowly as the group gathered in the courtyard for departure.

Cloaks flapped in the wind. Swords gleamed at belts. Every expression was tense with purpose.

Yesterday Lucius had stood at the center, dressed in black as usual, his long coat swirling around him like mist.

His umbrella was in hand — always — but it wasn’t shielding him from sunlight today. It was a statement. Always a statement.

As he told them:

"We’re not going back to Wyfkeep just yet," Lucius announced coldly, his crimson gaze sliding across the group like a blade. "We need to retrieve the weaponry hidden in the old WyfStone Quarry, the source of the kingdom’s finest stones and armories. If whatever idiotic negotiation you and your brother have planned fails, Prince Embrez, I’d rather not die unarmed."

Prince Embrez, clad in a deep navy tunic embroidered with silver thread, arched one dark brow.

His arms were folded, his jaw tight. "Always so pessimistic, Lucius. That’s why the curtains flee from you in every room."

"I’m a realist," Lucius said, turning his head slightly. "And unlike some royal romantics, I don’t underestimate what’s coming."

Alaric, leaning with one hand on his sword, considered the suggestion. "It’s not a terrible idea," he admitted. "A backup plan gives us breathing room. Very well. Lucius and I will take the crew to Wyfhold. But someone should head to the castle ahead of us. Just in case."

"I’ll go," Embrez said immediately, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve. "I can speak with the court, the king and his satanic concubine, and also keep the king’s dogs distracted. Perhaps even feed them false whispers."

Lucius scoffed. "As long as your tongue doesn’t get you killed before we arrive."

"I’m rather fond of my tongue," Embrez said smoothly. "Besides, I’ll take a few of the maids with me. They’ll serve as cover—and company."

Thalia, Salviana, and the others glanced at one another, uncertain.

"They’ll be safe with me," Embrez assured them with a prince’s smile that could melt steel—or poison a cup. "I swear on my last silver coin."

"I was already going to say that Emma, Sarah and Thalia would come with you," Alaric said.

"And what of Jean?" he added after a moment, eyes glinting as they settled on her. "Perhaps she should come too. She’ll be safest under my watch."

Lucius’s entire body stiffened. A tension so sharp it made the air sizzle.

Before he could speak, Jean raised a hand. "No."

Everyone turned.

Jean adjusted the strap of her satchel, lifting her chin defiantly. "I’m not just someone to be carted around, even by a charming prince. I’m an archaeologist. I go where the secrets are buried. And this is an adventure for me."

Embrez gave a crooked smile. "Ah, the fire I adore. Very well... if you say so, Lady Jean." His voice lowered, velvet with mischief. "Just know my offer still stands."

Lucius’s knuckles whitened around the umbrella handle, but he said nothing.

Only stepped forward and brushed his coat purposefully against Jean’s as if to reclaim her presence.

"I’m surprised you didn’t punch him," Alaric murmured to Lucius under his breath.

Lucius muttered, "I will. Later. Where it counts."

Thalia clapped her hands once, nervous and eager to redirect the thickening tension. "Alright then, it’s settled?"

"Yes," Alaric confirmed. "Prince Embrez heads to Wyfkeep castle. We go to Wyfstone Quarry to retrieve the weapons, then regroup."

"Let’s move quickly," Salviana said, arms folded over her chest. "I have a bad feeling something’s changing in the air."

As if to echo her words, a cold gust swept through the courtyard, flapping banners and making the horses snort anxiously.

Meanwhile,

Inside the room given to Jaefel, I quiet except for the soft creak of the wind-blown shutters and the sound of Samion’s feet outside the door.

A gentle light filtered in through the thin curtains, casting a golden warmth over the worn wooden floors.

Emma stood by the window, her silhouette aglow in the early afternoon sun.

She had changed into a modest but beautiful dress in soft cream and forest green, her dark curls pinned delicately, lips gently tinted from Salviana’s rouge.

She looked radiant. Nervous, but radiant.

Behind her, Jaefel stood tall in his dark knight leathers, armor buckled but loose, sword at his hip, his shoulders impossibly broad in the dim light.

His hair was tousled from training, and his eyes hadn’t stopped tracking her since she entered.

"You look beautiful," he finally said, voice low and rough as gravel smoothed by care. "Like the sunrise before a storm."

Emma smiled without turning. "That’s a dramatic way to say goodbye."

"I don’t want it to be goodbye," he said, stepping forward until they were nearly chest to chest.

His hand reached up to tuck a curl behind her ear. "I’ll insist you come with us if you want. The third prince won’t say no."

She turned to him, her eyes soft but certain. "No, don’t worry. The third prince trusts Prince Embrez. I believe we’ll be fine." free𝑤ebnovel.com

His jaw clenched. "He denounced his position, Emma. I don’t think he has that much power left. What if—"

"Jaefel," she whispered, resting a hand on his chest. "You stay alive. We’ll meet again. That’s all I ask."

He didn’t move for a long heartbeat. Then he reached out and cupped her face with both hands, calloused thumbs brushing her cheeks.

His eyes shimmered—not with tears, but with that helpless, heavy ache only a soldier knows when he cannot protect the one he loves.

"Emmalyn," he groaned, her full name slipping out like a vow. "Gods, I love you."

Emma’s breath caught. Her throat tightened. The world stilled. "Jaefel..." she whispered, lips trembling with truth. "I love you too."

He smiled — a rare, full smile that lit up his face and softened his rough edges. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that."

Then he leaned in, slow and certain, and captured her mouth in his.

Their kiss was gentle at first — soft, savoring, both afraid to break the moment — and then deeper, longer, lips moving in harmony as if trying to memorize the shape of the other’s soul.

A goodbye kiss.

Or maybe...

A see-you-later.

When they finally pulled apart, Emma rested her forehead against his chest. Jaefel held her close, burying his face in her hair like a man trying to memorize a scent.

"I’ll find you," he whispered.

"You better," she murmured with a tearful smile.

Outside, the horns of departure echoed faintly — the sound of a world shifting again.

Inside, a promise bloomed.

Samion knocked on the door and told him the third prince had called for them.

Jaefel separated from her and they headed to their prince.

In one of the quieter chambers of the Embrez Moor estate, the air was thick with urgency. The large windows let in a silver-blue light, casting somber shadows over the room’s ornate furnishings. Alaric stood with his arms crossed, leaning slightly over the edge of a long table scattered with half-drawn maps, sealed letters, and crumpled parchment.Jaefel and Samion stood across from him, alert and expectant, their boots still muddy from the morning drills.

"We’ll send a proper escort to fetch Heappal," Alaric began curtly, his voice clipped but firm. "With supplies. Water. Medicine. Everything he’ll need to be stabilized."

"Who exactly is this ’proper escort’?" Samion asked, tone laced with suspicion, his brow rising.

Alaric allowed himself a brief, ironic smile. "You two," he said, pointing between them. "You are the proper escort. Congratulations."

Jaefel blinked. "Wait... so we’re not going with you?"

"No," Alaric said with a casualness that didn’t reach his eyes. "You’ll retrieve Heappal and take him to trusted safety."

"To the castle, or back here?" Jaefel asked, squinting slightly.

"We’ll send word," Alaric replied. "If the castle is safe, you go there. If it isn’t..." He glanced out the window. "You bring him back here. And if here isn’t safe, then you trust your gut and disappear into the wilds. Heappal must live."

A quiet pause lingered before an unexpected voice joined the conversation.

"I’m going with Thalia," Sebastian declared as he entered the room, looking devastatingly composed despite the chaos that hung in the air like smoke.

Samion nearly rolled his eyes. Jaefel tensed. Alaric turned to face him fully.

"No," Alaric said flatly. "You’re coming with us."

Sebastian cocked an eyebrow. "Us, who? The Demon Crew?" he teased with a knowing smirk.

Alaric’s jaw tensed, the vein along his temple twitching. "It would be convenient to send you with Jaefel and Samion since you’ve already been to the place where Heappal was left. You could guide them. But we’ll trust a map. If Thalia confirms its accuracy, that’ll be enough."

"You’re making a mistake," Sebastian warned, the cockiness slipping just slightly.