Page 109 of Shattered Crown
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As sunset approached,Thomas surprised everyone by requesting a private conversation with Thorne.
“I believe certain matters should be discussed directly, without the formality of full council,” the king stated, his expression revealing nothing of his intentions.
“Is that wise?” Diana murmured to Silas, eyeing the king with suspicion.
Before Silas could respond, his father added something unexpected. “My son should join us, of course. As he stands between our worlds, his presence seems appropriate.”
Silas concealed his surprise, nodding with what he hoped appeared as diplomatic calm rather than the complicated mix of apprehension and hope he actually felt.
“I would be honored to accompany you both,” he managed, glancing at Thorne, who inclined his head in agreement.
“If you're comfortable walking deeper into the grove, Your Majesty?” Thorne asked, his resonant voice measured and careful.
Thomas hesitated only briefly. “Lead on, Guardian.”
As they ventured along a winding path into the Eldergrove, Silas positioned himself slightly behind, watching the strange tableau of his father following Thorne among ancient trees. The king moved with the composed watchfulness of a man in unfamiliar territory, his gaze taking in every detail of this realm he'd forbidden for so long. His straight back and measured steps revealed tension that his voice had hidden.
Thorne led them to a small clearing centered around a massive oak. Its trunk was wide enough that ten men could not have encircled it with joined hands, its branches creating a natural cathedral overhead. Dappled light filtered through leaves that seemed to shimmer with inner luminescence.
“The First Oak,” Thorne explained, his cosmic voice modulated to something less overwhelming. “Every guardian of the Eldergrove has sat beneath its branches to contemplate difficult decisions.”
Thomas approached the tree cautiously, studying its immense form. “And that's why you've brought us here? For a difficult decision?”
“I thought,” Thorne replied carefully, “that neutral ground might serve us all.”
Silas remained silent, sensing the delicate balance of this moment. His father and Thorne were measuring each other, seeking common language across a gulf of fundamentally different perspectives.
The king acknowledged Thorne's words with a slight nod. For a long moment, he simply stood before the ancient tree, seemingly gathering his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a directness absent from the formal negotiations.
“You love my son.”
The bluntness of the question startled Silas, heat rising to his face at his father's characteristic lack of subtlety.
“Father, I don't think—” he began, but Thorne raised a hand gently.
“It's a fair question,” his transformed partner said, then turned to the king. “Yes. Beyond what words in any language can express.”
“And yet you allowed him to undertake a ritual that nearly destroyed him. That changed him forever.” There was an edge to Thomas's words, the accusation barely concealed.
Silas stepped forward, angry at the unfairness of the charge. “That was my choice. My decision. Thorne tried to stop me.”
“I fought against it,” Thorne confirmed, his transformed features showing a flash of the anguish he'd felt. “I would have taken his place if the ritual allowed it.”
“But it didn't,” Thomas pressed, his gaze shifting between them.
“No,” Silas answered, meeting his father's eyes directly. “It required Ashworth blood. A willing sacrifice from our line.” The implied parallel hung between them—Silas had made a sacrifice for his people, just as Thomas had always expected of him, though not in the manner his father had envisioned.
“A line with its own history of sacrifices, as I understand,” Thorne added quietly.
Thomas's jaw tightened at this reference to family secrets. “You know much about my family.”
“I have lived long enough to remember several generations of Ashworths. Some wise, some foolish. Some cruel, some kind.” Thorne gestured to the massive oak. “This tree remembers even more. It was here when the first Ashworth made contact with the forest realm.”
Silas watched his father's face, recognizing the slight widening of eyes that indicated genuine interest beneath the diplomatic mask.
“What was he like?” Thomas asked, surprising Silas with what seemed like genuine curiosity. “The first of my line to come here?”
