I reread the letter from Roland, the words burning into my mind as if etched there by a force beyond my control. The spot he had mentioned was one I knew well, a place from my past, a place that carried with it a weight of memories both dark and heavy. It was far enough away from Uxbrid, tucked away in a corner of the land, but still close enough to make me feel the stirrings of anxiety. The kind that creeps up your spine and settles like a cold weight in your chest.

I folded the letter carefully, as if holding onto the fragile thread of my composure. The letter had been brief, almost too concise in its request. Kendric Roland wanted to meet us there. I didn't trust him, but I had no choice. There was too much at stake now, too many people relying on us to act. I had promised my people I would protect them. And if that meant dealing with Roland—however uneasy it made me—then that was what I would do.

As I gazed out across the horizon, the trees swaying gently in the breeze, I couldn't help but feel the enormity of the decision weighing on me. We had been running from uncertainty for so long. And now, this meeting—this meeting with Roland—felt like it would finally bring us face to face with the answers we had been searching for. I didn't know if that would bring relief or ruin, but I had to trust in the choices I had made thus far. We couldn't afford to wait any longer.

Beside me, Mathew adjusted the saddle on his horse, his movements steady, even in the face of uncertainty. I didn't have to ask him if he was as uneasy as I was—his quiet demeanor spoke volumes. His loyalty was unshakable, his focus on our journey clear. But even he couldn't hide the glint of wariness in his eyes when he glanced at me, sensing the tension in the air.

"We'll be ready," he said, his voice low but steady.

I nodded, though the knot in my stomach tightened even further. "Ready for whatever comes next."

For a moment, we stood in silence, the weight of our journey ahead pressing down on us. I looked back to where Solene was playing in the grass, her laughter light and carefree. A small, bittersweet smile tugged at my lips. She was too young to understand what lay ahead, but I would do everything in my power to protect her from it.

Mathew finished securing the last of the packs on his horse and turned to face me. His brow furrowed slightly, but his voice remained firm. "If something goes wrong, you take her and leave. Roland is mine to kill."

I nodded. After everything Roland had put him through I could not deny him that. With a deep breath, I mounted my horse, feeling the familiar weight of the saddle beneath me. The journey had already begun, and there was no turning back.

The journey to the old, abandoned barrack took longer than expected, with the roads winding through thick forests and rocky paths that seemed to swallow the daylight. As the sun began to dip beneath the horizon, the silhouettes of the barrack's crumbling walls appeared in the distance—a stark reminder of the war-torn past that still lingered in the air.

We arrived just after dusk, the faint glow of the setting sun casting long shadows over the decrepit building. The place had been abandoned for years, its purpose forgotten by most. The only sounds were the wind whistling through the broken windows and the crunch of gravel beneath our boots.

Solene clung to my side, her small hand gripping mine as we approached the entrance. I could feel her unease, the way her eyes darted around as if sensing something I couldn't. Mathew, ever the protector, kept close behind us, scanning the area for any signs of danger.

We paused just outside the entrance. There was no movement from within, but I knew Roland was waiting. This place, the spot he had mentioned, was too familiar. It was a place where old alliances had been forged—and broken. My mind briefly flashed to memories of better days, when Roland had been more than just an ally; he had been a friend, a lover even.

But that was before everything had changed. Before I had learned the true cost of trust.

I stepped forward, my boots echoing in the silence, and pushed open the door. The hinges groaned in protest, but I hardly noticed. The interior was dim, the air thick with dust and neglect. In the center of the room stood Roland, his back to us, staring out of a broken window as if lost in thought.

He turned slowly, as though sensing our arrival before we made a sound. When his eyes met mine, there was a coldness there, a distance I hadn't expected. Gone was the warmth of the man I had once considered a friend; instead, there was only the shadow of the spy I had once trusted and the man who had betrayed me.

"Roland," I said, my voice steady despite the tension in the room.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "Adrian," he replied, his voice flat, detached. "You came."

I didn't respond immediately. I was too busy studying him—too busy taking in the man who had once stood beside me in battle, now a mere shell of his former self. There was something different about him. His once confident posture had faltered, replaced by an almost mechanical composure. The warmth that had once radiated from him was gone, replaced by an icy professionalism that seemed to exude from every pore.

"You're alone?" Mathew asked, stepping forward beside me, his tone edged with suspicion. I couldn't blame him. Roland had always been a master at hiding his true intentions.

Roland gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug. "I am," he said. "I wanted to speak to you without them interfering."

His gaze flickered briefly to Solene, who was still clinging to my side, her wide eyes scanning the room cautiously. She had always been able to sense when things weren't right. It was as if she could read the tension in the air, even at such a young age.

"Who's this?" Roland asked, his voice betraying the faintest hint of discomfort as his eyes lingered on Solene. There was no warmth, no recognition. Just a cold indifference.

"The princess of Gera and Faria," I said, my voice firm. "She's our daughter."

Roland's eyes narrowed slightly, and for the briefest moment, I could have sworn I saw a flicker of something darker cross his face. Anger? Resentment? I couldn't be sure, but it was there, and it unsettled me more than I cared to admit.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned his attention back to me, his expression hardening. "You've changed," he muttered. "But you forget, Gera is not yours. The throne is hers now."

I didn't respond at first, my thoughts swirling around his words. Roland's comment hit harder than I cared to admit. "You've changed too," I said finally, my voice betraying nothing. "But I'm not here to talk about that."

Roland's lips twitched in what might have been a half-smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Then why are you here?"

I stepped closer, my eyes narrowing as I studied him. "I came for the truth. I came to see if there's anything left of the man I once knew."

Roland's gaze hardened. "That man is dead. I don't know what you want from me, Adrian, but I can't give it to you. Not anymore."

The words hit me like a blow, but I refused to let them show. I'd already suspected it, but hearing him say it aloud felt like another betrayal. This wasn't just about us anymore. It wasn't just about the past. There was something darker, something more dangerous at play. Something I had underestimated.

I glanced at Mathew, who was watching Roland carefully. He seemed to be waiting for a signal, unsure of how far I was willing to push. Solene, for her part, had quieted down, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, though she still clung to my side.

"I'm not leaving here without answers," I said, my voice steady, but there was an edge to it now. "Why did you call for this meeting in the first place?"

Roland's eyes flickered, just for a moment. It was the smallest reaction, but it spoke volumes. "She is ruthless," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I followed her lead because there was no other way. But then I heard of what happened in Faria. How you wield similar powers... and I felt a glimmer of hope. That... maybe you could take her down."

A chill ran down my spine. There it was. The truth I had been searching for. Roland wasn't just a man who had betrayed me. He was now a man trapped in a game far larger than either of us had anticipated. And now, he was offering me the most dangerous kind of warning—one that was born from fear.

The meeting had only just begun, and already, the stakes had risen higher than I could have imagined.

"What changed your mind?" Mathew hissed. "Why come to us?"

"Her magic is changing them," he muttered. "Turning them into mindless monsters."

The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of Roland's words pressing down on us like a physical force. I could feel the tension building in the air, and for the first time since I had laid eyes on Roland again, I wondered if we were making a mistake by trusting him—if there was any part of him left that wasn't tainted by his allegiance to her.

Mathew's grip on the hilt of his sword tightened, his jaw clenched. "What do you mean, 'monsters'?" he demanded, his voice cold and low, like a predator preparing to strike.

Roland's eyes flickered toward Solene, who was standing quietly by my side, her small hand clutching mine. The moment seemed to weigh on him, as if he couldn't decide whether to speak openly or not. But after a moment, he let out a soft sigh and spoke again, his voice carrying the rawness of someone who had seen too much.

"Caela's been taking out those who stand in her way," Roland said, his voice barely audible. "The ones who could challenge her for control... for the throne. And she's not done. But she needed soldiers, so she forced them to follow her somehow." His words hung in the air, as chilling as the cold night that had settled over the barrack.

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. I had always known that Kendrick's wife—who had never truly been his wife, not in the way we would call it—was dangerous. But hearing it laid out so plainly, hearing the depth of her cruelty, made it all feel even more real. And now, Roland was caught in the very web he had helped spin.

"What do you want from us?" I asked, my voice steady despite the churn of thoughts running through my mind.

Roland looked at me then, a look in his eyes that I couldn't quite decipher. "I want you to end it. End her. You're the only ones who can. I've seen what she's capable of, Adrian, and I've seen what you can do. I won't beg, but I will say this—you can't let her get any more power. Not like this."

Mathew moved forward, his expression hardened. "And why should we trust you now? After everything?"

Roland met Mathew's gaze, unflinching. "Because I know what it's like to be trapped. I made mistakes, but I'm telling you the truth now. You have to stop her before she takes everything from us—everything that's left."

A tense silence followed. I could hear the wind howling outside the barrack, the cold night air creeping through the cracks in the walls. The shadows seemed to stretch longer in the room, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on us all.

I glanced down at Solene, who was still standing close by, her eyes wide but quiet. She could sense the tension in the room, the growing darkness that lingered, but she said nothing. She was too young to understand fully, yet there was something in her gaze that spoke of wisdom beyond her years.

Mathew's voice broke the silence. "And what will you do now? If she comes for us, will you stand with us, or will you run again?"

Roland hesitated, the slightest flicker of guilt passing over his features. But then he straightened, his resolve hardening. "I'll stand with you. If I can. But I don't have much left to give. My loyalty has already cost me everything."

I studied Roland for a long moment. The man I had known—the one who had once been my ally, my friend—was gone, replaced by someone who had been broken by the very system he had once supported. I didn't know if I could trust him. But I knew one thing: I couldn't turn my back on him now. Not when everything was at stake.

I looked at Mathew, who gave a small nod, acknowledging the unspoken agreement between us. There was no going back from this. The only way forward was through the darkness.

"Then help us," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "Help us stop her."

Roland's gaze softened for just a moment, but it was fleeting. "You don't know what you're asking for," he said quietly. "Her magic is in me. I fight it, but now and then she takes control of me." He licked his lips and cast a quick glance at Mathew. "I was her weapon, doing mindless things guided by her hand."

"Not her hand," I muttered. "A power far greater than hers. "I have seen him."

Roland's shoulders slumped as the weight of my words sank in, his eyes distant, haunted. For a moment, I thought I saw something more than fear there—regret, perhaps, or the bitter sting of betrayal.

"You're right," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've felt him. The one who manipulates from the shadows. She calls him Morvian..." Roland's words trailed off, and for a moment, he seemed to lose himself in the memory.

Mathew stepped forward, his hand on his sword hilt, his expression grim. "So what's your plan, Roland? You're not exactly in a position to bargain."

"I have soldiers under my command. Untouched by her magic. They will follow their true king." He paused. "They will follow you, King Adrian, and so will I, if you give me the chance."

The air seemed to shift then, the weight of the moment settling heavily on all of us. We were standing on the edge of something far bigger than any of us could have anticipated. And no matter what happened next, I knew there was no going back. The truth was now out in the open. And the only thing left to do was to prepare for the battle that was coming.