CHAPTER 250: IT WAS AN INSULT

Darius glanced back to see Cedar closing the door behind him with a grim line on his face. The red haired man perked up and placed his hands behind his back and walked to his desk.

"All is not well, I assume," Darius began.

Cedar grumbled something under his breath and sank into a chair opposite Darius. Soon he sprang up like he had forgotten a boiling kettle on the stove. He reached into his coat pocket and then slid an envelope towards Darius.

Darius gave him a perplexed look and took the envelope carefully, it had already been unsealed, presumably because the letter had been read.

"Do you need me to decipher the writing for you?" Darius asked with a raised brow.

Cedar lips remained pressed in a thin line. It took a lot to get Cedar riled up to the point where he stopped smiling at poor jokes.

"Read it," he said grimly.

Darius slid his thumb beneath the flap and withdrew the folded parchment.

To the Honourable Alpha of Ironshade,

Darius Hawthrone,

I pray this letter finds you in good health and in better spirits. The days here are mild and agreeable, though I must confess, I long for the bracing chill of the northern hills again, and the clarity it brings to thought.

It has been most refreshing to witness the hospitality of your household, and to share in the bounty of your table. I must commend your people, and your council, for their gracious conduct.

However, I write now not merely out of pleasantry, though pleasantry is always a comfort in foreign soil. A thought has persisted in my mind, one I feel remiss not to address.

I have, in the past days, become increasingly intrigued by the representatives of Crimsonclaw. Their manner, their bearing, their odd nature. I am possessed of a certain curiosity, and it would give me much satisfaction to speak with them more directly. Perhaps a private meeting may be arranged, somewhere of neutral footing. I would be delighted to spend time in their company, should their schedules permit.

In earnest regard,

Riven, Delegate of Dawnbreak

Darius blinked, then read the final paragraph again. And then once more, slower. He lowered the letter onto the desk slowly, fingertips tapping on the inked edge. "It seems polite," he muttered, "and not entirely unexpected."

Cedar let out a humourless chuckle. "Is that what you think?"

Darius raised his gaze. "Should I think otherwise?"

"He does not address them directly," Cedar pointed out, voice stiff. "That is not custom, especially for something that is, by all appearances, a private request."

"Aye, he sent it through you to me. But the request was harmless enough."

Cedar’s lips thinned further, if such a thing were possible. He rubbed at his brow and then sat once more. "Darius. You have been gracious to those two women. But Riven sends a request to you, as though it is your decision to grant them leave. As though they are not emissaries in their own right, but wolves you keep on a short tether."

Darius stilled.

That subtle turn of the letter had not escaped him, but hearing it aloud sunk it deeper into the room.

"He believes them to be pawns?" Darius asked.

"At the very least, dependent," Cedar said. "At worst, puppets. His wording was too careful to be sincere. I suspect he thinks you have something to hide, perhaps that Crimsonclaw is not here by legitimate arrangement, or worse, that you have silenced their authority."

Darius leaned back in his chair, one arm stretched over the wooden armrest. His jaw tensed, thoughts running ahead. "That would explain why he asked me and not them."

Cedar nodded grimly. "He means to test them. To see if their tongues are tied or their answers are rehearsed. If we refuse him, it will raise suspicion. If we allow it, he’ll be watching for cracks in the illusion."

"And if there is no illusion?" Darius asked, his voice low.

"Then they had best prove it."

Darius exhaled and pushed the letter away from him.

Cedar’s gaze softened slightly. "You have done much to keep the peace here. But Riven is not the only one curious. Others watch him closely, if he returns to Dawnbreak with questions, they will become the council’s questions. And they may not be as polite."

"We ca not afford to seem withholding," Darius murmured.

"No," Cedar agreed, fingers drumming on the table. "We cannot. Which means we must give him exactly what he asked for and no more."

Silence stretched between them for a moment. Darius stared at the letter as though it might reshape itself.

"I will inform Serena and Charlotte," he said finally.

Cedar raised a brow. "You trust them to manage it?"

"I do," Darius said plainly. "They are not fools."

"No," Cedar agreed again. "But that does not mean they are ready."

Darius cast a long look across the room, toward the window, where the wind tugged lightly at the curtains. He thought of Serena. "She will have to be," he said. "Whatever Riven is digging for, he will find only what we choose to show."

"And what if he finds more?"

Darius turned his gaze back to Cedar. "Then we prepare the board again."

The older man gave a reluctant nod. "I will see to the arrangements."

Darius stood and took the letter with him. "Let me be the one to inform them. I do not believe it would be wise for them to hear it from another mouth."

"As you will," Cedar said, though his tone remained tight. "But do not take too long."

He left the room with less of a storm than when he had entered, but a faint pressure remained, as though his concerns had found residence in the very walls.

Darius stood alone for a moment longer, letter still in hand.

He had not seen Serena since the early morning. He wondered if she still lingered in her chambers, or whether Charlotte had already joined her. They would need to be told swiftly and gently, if such a thing was possible.

Because Riven had not asked to meet with them.

He had expected to and that, more than anything else, was the true insult.