The forest burned quietly that night — not with flame, but with resolve.
Edward sat beneath an ancient oak, his arm wrapped in cloth and his sword beside him. The firelight carved sharp shadows across his face.
Evelyn watched him in silence. The wound had stopped bleeding, but something deeper hadn't.
She said softly, "You're thinking of him."
Edward didn't answer at first. Then he exhaled. "We swore an oath once. William and I. To protect the realm — even from ourselves."
He gave a bitter smile. "I broke that oath. He buried it."
Evelyn moved closer, kneeling beside him. "Oaths made in the name of corruption aren't worth keeping."
He looked up at her then — and for the first time in days, the storm in his eyes quieted.
At dawn, they made their way west toward the coastal trade routes. There, rumors whispered of mercenaries, exiled soldiers, and smugglers — men and women who owed no loyalty to crown or creed.
Evelyn disguised herself as a merchant's apprentice; Edward as a wounded traveler seeking passage.
Through hidden taverns and moonlit docks, they began to find those willing to listen.
One name surfaced again and again: Captain Rowan Hale, a former officer who deserted after the war, said to command a secret fleet that answered to no nation.
"If we can find him," Edward said, "we'll have more than allies. We'll have a chance."
Evelyn smiled faintly. "Then let's find him — before your brother does."
Two weeks later, they reached the seaport of Redmere — a labyrinth of ships, trade stalls, and whispers.
They were no longer fugitives in hiding; they were players in a game much larger than either of them had imagined.
Evelyn's heart pounded as they entered a dim tavern by the docks.
Behind the counter stood a man with a sailor's gait and eyes like gray steel.
"Looking for passage?" he asked without looking up.
Edward nodded. "Looking for Captain Rowan Hale."
The man finally met his gaze — and smiled. "Then you've found him."