Frido's cell had no lock now.
And yet, he stayed.
The guards came every morning expecting it to be empty.
Each time, they found the boy cross-legged, hands resting lightly on his knees, eyes closed. Not asleep — present.
He was waiting.
For what, no one could say.
And that unsettled the fortress more than battle ever had.
---
Loras stood on the battlements, looking toward the northern horizon.
Snow clouds crawled over the peaks of Durn's Teeth.
Below, the river Sarn weaved like a silver vein, and scattered towns blinked with the fire of the coming storm — not weather, but orders. Armies still massed. The West was not retreating. Kings and ministers would not accept delay forever.
Peace, Loras realized, had a cost far higher than war.
Because it required patience.
And men were not patient.
---
That evening, an emissary arrived.
Wrapped in the deep blue cloak of the Kingdom of the Cradle Sea, he rode with banners folded — a sign of parley.
His name was Ambren Kheel, a diplomat with a face like carved stone.
He bowed to Loras without warmth. "General. My lords are alarmed."
"I expected as much," said Loras.
"They say you've abandoned your oaths. That you listen to a boy who will not speak."
Loras did not argue.
Ambren's eyes narrowed. "This 'Silence-Bearer' — may I see him?"
Loras hesitated.
Then nodded.
---
They brought Ambren to the cell.
Frido looked up as he entered.
The diplomat bowed faintly. "You have stirred powerful things, boy. You've made men hesitate. That's dangerous."
Frido did not respond.
Ambren drew a chair and sat across from him.
"You do not understand the clockwork of kingdoms. Delays do not save lives — they unbalance pacts. When a blade is drawn, hesitation is often death."
Frido wrote:
> "Then let the blade be sheathed again."
Ambren chuckled coldly. "You speak as if kings can forget insults. As if treaties can erase betrayal. The machine moves, boy."
Frido reached for another scrap.
> "Machines break."
Ambren stared.
"What do you want? An audience? A seat at court? Do you think this path leads to power?"
Frido looked him dead in the eye, and in steady ink wrote:
> "No. I want you to look at your reflection — and not flinch."
For the first time, Ambren was silent.
Then, curtly, he stood. "You are dangerous."
He turned to leave.
But paused at the door.
"…And yet… I will report what I saw. Not because you persuaded me. But because you did not try."
---
Outside, Loras met him again.
"Well?"
Ambren folded his gloves. "You may have sown doubt in your men. But it will not save you from the tide."
Loras raised a brow. "What if the tide turns?"
Ambren's lips twitched. "Tides don't turn for boys. They turn for storms."
He left without another word.
---
That night, Mirea dreamed of Frido.
She stood in a vast field of white stones — unmarked graves stretching endlessly under moonlight.
Frido stood alone at the center.
He held no torch, no sword — only a small bell in his hands.
He rang it once.
The sound was soft.
Yet every stone trembled.
She awoke with tears on her cheeks.
---
The next day, an argument broke out among Loras' commanders.
Some demanded action. Others feared the growing unrest.
They asked Loras what he would do if reinforcements came.
If the king commanded the attack, would he obey?
He did not answer them.
Instead, he walked to the cell.
Frido stood when he entered.
Loras held out a sealed letter.
"The Crown has issued final orders. We are to advance in two weeks. No more delay. If I do not act, I will be removed."
Frido took the letter.
Opened it.
Read every word.
Then reached for his ink.
> "Then let me go. I will walk to the Western gates. Alone."
Loras's eyes darkened. "They will kill you."
Frido wrote:
> "Maybe. Or maybe, like you, they will remember."
Loras said nothing.
Frido added:
> "If I can stop this war without speaking — even once — then they will know the truth always had a form that could not be denied."
---
Three days later, Frido left the fortress.
No guards.
No banners.
Just silence.
But behind him, the men of Hevenmark watched from the walls.
Some stood at salute.
Some simply wept.
And Loras watched the boy disappear into the snow-covered hills, whispering to himself, "There walks the stone that sank the storm."
---
End of Chapter 45