The Shadow Soul (A Dance of Dragons #1)

Chapter Eight

Rhen

~ Open Ocean ~

Thank the gods for unflagged ships, Rhen thought as he stared through the telescope, searching for some sign of coloring on those distant masts.

Why had he told the boy so much? The words had just spilled out, uncontrollable. He hadn't spoken of little Whyllysle in years, to anyone, his family let alone his friends.

But even after burying it in the back of his mind, the memory came to life just as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.

Rhen, seven years old, searching through the old spymaster's papers as he usually did, barely able to read them but able to read them just enough. The year before, when he had been locked away in his room for misbehavior, Rhen had discovered the secret passage behind his bed, the one that led directly to the master's office. He was just able to sneak through, just small enough to fit under his bed, and a year later, he was still snooping around.

But this had been different, now he had a younger brother to take care of—one he would treat far better than his own older brothers had treated him. And part of taking care of him was making sure Rhen knew everything that was going on.

Hours and hours of looking through parchments and Rhen had never found a thing—until one night, when he found his brother's name scribbled in the margins of a sealed letter. Whyllysle. Immediately, Rhen had stolen the paper, folded it, and tucked it into his shirt before scurrying back to his room. He read as much as he could, picking out words like queen and king and most importantly, poison. But he didn’t really understand, and he definitely didn't know what to do. Show it to his father and risk being punished? Or pretend he had never found it in the first place?

What Rhen didn't realize at the time was that there were no options. He had been too late either way.

Not even an hour later, word spread like wildfire through the castle—the youngest prince was dead. The king, like a madman, demanded information. And Rhen, not knowing what he held, gave the parchment to his father, waiting for the blow to his head for stealing another person's things.

Instead of a blow, the king disappeared. A day later, the spymaster was hung for treason and the entire castle dropped into a deep despair.

And this was the part Rhen had never told anyone, the part he had almost spilled but was able to keep secret. Eventually, Rhen did understand what the papers had held—they had named the fourth heir to the throne a babe born out of infidelity, the queen's bastard, not the blood of Whyl. For that, an innocent child paid the price. The spymaster, rather than admit what he had found, poisoned the boy in his sleep, hoping the king would never understand, hoping that it would turn into an unsolved mystery allowed to linger.

Clearly, he had been wrong.

King Whylfrick was a proud man—he never said a word to his sons and never to the queen that Rhen could tell. It was a secret between the two of them; one he wasn't sure his father even realized they shared.

But sometimes when he caught his father's gaze, Rhen was sure the king knew. Deep down in his green eyes, so like his son's, there was a speck of resentment, a glimmer of unspoken rage, and Rhen could think of no other cause.

Which was why he remained silent—was why Rhen would never tell a soul—not even a small boy who had no one in the world he could tell.

And maybe that, Rhen realized, was why he had allowed himself one moment of vulnerability with Jin. The boy had no one—no political motivations, no idea of what it meant for a prince to be indebted to him. For the first time, Rhen had someone other than his two brothers he could be honest with, could show his real self to.