Chapter 26: A New Life and a Chilling Truth
The journey from the capital was long and exhausting, but the sight of the Vexin fortress, grim and beautiful against the jagged mountains, was a welcome balm. As Damon and Isolde rode through the gates, the shouts of the guards and the cheers of the people felt like a shield against the world of lies they had just left.
Arion and Lysa were waiting in the main hall. Arion's face was a mask of relief, but Lysa's was different. Her pale skin was flushed, and a shy, but genuine, smile was playing on her lips. As Damon and Isolde dismounted, Lysa stepped forward, taking Isolde's hands.
"My Lady," Lysa said, her voice a soft, excited whisper. "I have good news. News that belongs to the whole house."
She looked at Arion, who was standing beside her with a rare, proud grin. "I am pregnant."
The words hung in the air for a moment, and then a wave of joyous surprise washed over the hall. Isolde's face broke into a radiant smile, and she embraced Lysa, her heart swelling with a happiness she had not known she could feel. Damon, a man of few emotions, felt a profound sense of relief and pride. His brother, who had accepted a political marriage with such grim duty, was now a father-to-be. The House of Vexin was secure. It would endure. Damon placed a large, calloused hand on Lysa's shoulder, his eyes filled with a paternal pride.
"This is good news, Lady Lysa," he said, his voice a low rumble. "This house will be stronger for it."
The rest of the day was filled with a quiet celebration. The weight of the court was forgotten, replaced by the simple, profound joy of a new life. Damon and Isolde finally felt they could breathe again. They had a future to protect, a new generation to raise.
But as the day waned and a soft, evening light filled the hall, the brief calm was shattered. A lone, exhausted raven, bearing the seal of the royal house, was found at the outer gates. The bird was not a symbol of joy but a chilling harbinger of a new kind of war.
Damon took the scroll, his face a mask of stone. The message was not from the king, but a formal royal decree. Lord Elmsworth Galen, the patriarch of the House of Galen, had been arrested for high treason. He was accused of conspiring with rebellious northern lords to finance an insurrection against the crown. The document ended with a simple, brutal demand: Lord Galen would be held in the royal dungeons until such a time as Lord Damon Vexin swore fealty to the king and paid a heavy tax to prove his loyalty.
The silence that followed was heavy and cold. Lysa's face, so recently bright with the news of her pregnancy, was now a portrait of utter despair. She had lost her father, and now her brother was thrust into the role of a wartime leader. The joy of the morning was a bitter memory, replaced by the chilling reality of the king's malice.
Arion's rage was a physical presence in the room. "This is a lie!" he roared, his voice echoing in the hall. "A foul lie! The king is using him to force us to our knees!"
Damon's fury, however, was colder. He walked to the window, his back to them, his massive shoulders hunched. The king had not only lied; he had delivered a final, personal insult. He had taken his most important new ally as a hostage, a direct blow to the heart of the Vexin's new strength.
Isolde placed a hand on Damon's arm, her touch a grounding force. "The time for words is over, my Lord," she said softly. "The king has shown his true colors. We can no longer fight this battle with wits and cunning."
Damon turned, his eyes burning with a cold, terrifying fire. The days of feigning loyalty and navigating treacherous courts were gone. The time for a warrior to be a warrior had finally arrived. He looked at Isolde, at Arion, and at Lysa, whose face was stained with tears. He took a deep, steadying breath, his voice a low, confident rumble that filled the silent hall.
"Assemble the army," he commanded. "The war has begun."