The Portrait and The Letter

Chapter 15

Isabella Dwyer had grown up in a small village outside of Castell. During her youth, she had spent most of her time exploring the long and harsh beaches of the north. Her parents had never married, and her father had moved away when she was very young, thus never really being in the picture. Though he did try to keep in contact with her whenever he could. Renee Dwyer had found what she called the love of her life when Bella turned six and married him two years later. Phil Dwyer had been an exemplary stepfather.

Moving to Safeira and to the big city had been a natural step for her. Renee's love for history had rubbed off on her daughter, and although Renee would never confess it, Bella was certain she had been named after Queen Isabella the First, Isabella Swan.

Moving to Safeira had been frightening, but Mike had been there since day one and Bella had leaned on him like a crutch. At first, they had only been friends when she entered the university as a student, but after four years, he asked her out on their first date.

At the start, it had been great—they had been great.

Bella, inexperienced both in the big city life and in love, had been patient with his hesitance to be public with her—even though he was not much of a public figure himself. Painstakingly, Bella endured years in his shadow, only to one day realize she wasn't happy and never would be with a man who treated their entire relationship as a secret. Bella vowed to never again fall into the trap of secrecy, and that she would never settle for something equal or less.

She hadn't denied her growing interest in Edward Athar, especially not during the walk they'd taken the other day among the narrow streets of Hayes. There had been something there, something making her heart flutter, something making her want to spend more time speaking with him, making him laugh…something she hadn't felt before. She knew it could grow to become something deeper than just a simple crush, and she had allowed herself to let the feeling grow.

But now, after the revelations of last night, there was a tightening in the crevices of her heart, a tightening that foreboded a strong heartache to come as she slowly came to terms with what he had done. Edward Athar had used her, surely he must have. She, who had settled on believing him from the start felt betrayed, and she could not get rid of the feeling. Edward was Captain Cullen, the man who had saved her in the Ascham estate, the man who had spent waking nights in her apartment watching over her, the man who had held her hair up as she purged her insides into her toilet bowl after a rowdy night.

Bella was sitting in the nook of the wide windowsill, drinking a steaming hot cup of tea, staring out at an empty square below.

She hadn't slept.

The dress which Mia and her team had worked so hard on was discarded on her made bed, her hair still in the confinements of the braids and pearls, albeit messier now than it had been at the start of the night. She had a silk robe on, one shoulder slumped down and a chill enveloping her.

It had stopped raining a few hours ago and sunrise was touching the rooftops of the sleepy town. Bella clutched the cup as her lip quivered. A part of her never wanted to see Edward again… yet another, stronger part of her wanted him to explain himself to her. She chuckled at her own stupidity. There shouldn't be a chance for him to ever explain himself, either as Cullen or as Athar. There was no explanation he could give that would make her change her mind.

The hours ticked by, and Bella was resolute to leave Hayes as soon as Mia was well enough to travel. The slight groans from her side of the adjoining room revealed that it would probably not be until the evening or the next morning at best. Bella would have to endure the beautiful town until then.

"My head!" Mia called out as she pinched her eyes shut. Then they shot open again as she fervently searched for Bella. "You seriously have some explaining to do!"

Bella put down the cup and pursed her lips. "Explaining?"

Mia was pressing both her hands against her face to quell the ever-growing headache. Bella searched for some paracetamols in her purse and handed Mia two tablets together with a big glass of cold water.

Mia drank the water and chewed the tablets hungrily, taking another sip to fully wash her mouth. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she still had last night's makeup caking her face, making her look more like a panda than the put-together friend Bella knew.

"I did see you dance with Mike Newton and then him chasing you out of the chapel in the rain, right?!" she chastised. "What on earth were you doing with him there?" she sat up and leaned forward. "It was the most romantic thing I've ever seen in my life—even if I hate his guts!"

Bella blushed; unaware they had been seen by Mia. Her stomach suddenly did a flip as she remembered Edward storming out after her, standing before her and drenched in the rain.

"It wasn't Mike," she said as she looked down at her hands with the blush working its way onto her throat and ears.

"Then who was it? You said you weren't feeling down about a guy… Mike or otherwise, darling. Clearly, this isn't the case!" Mia winced, shouting at her friend so fervently caused her head to start hurting in a way she never thought possible. "What haven't you been telling me?"

"Mia…I really want to tell you—everything, I want you to know what I've been dealing with these last few months but…I can't." Bella felt so guilty. "I just want to leave and go back to how everything used to be."

Mia dumped back into the bed with a sigh, still clutching her head. "I don't want to start something, Bella, but I've been here for you every step of the way, I've tried to support you and I understand things are rough but… I'd be lying if I didn't tell you I'm a little offended that you've basically been withholding part of the truth from me." She pinched her eyes shut. "And I'll get over it, as I always do, but try to see it from my perspective. I just want to be there for you, like you were there for me when Grandmama passed last year, you know? And I was more than happy to let you help me…"

Bella took Mia's hand in her own. "There will come a day when I can tell you all of this, and you will understand why I couldn't before… it will make sense to you." As she spoke, it slowly dawned on her who she was sounding like and what kind of conversation was in store for her in the future with Edward. Seeing it from that perspective, she was inclined to believe at least that a part of him might have lied to her for practical reasons.

Mia squeezed her hand. "I seriously need to sleep some more, I don't think we'll be able to leave today anyway."

"Yeah… I need a bath and some fresh air," Bella agreed.


Victoria Fell was back in Safeira and while she had been against going to Hayes, she had found the evening pleasant enough. It had been beyond expectation. She and her mother were taking lunch in the palace gardens.

"I take it Athar took good care of you?" Leonore asked as she cut the salmon filet.

"Athar has been doing this for over thirty years, I was in safe hands," Victoria smiled back.

"And you'll continue to be in safe hands until he hands the mantle over to his son."

Victoria's shoulders sank. "Does Edward Athar really wish to take that mantle? He didn't attend the Masque and it seems Athar didn't expect him to."

Leonore stared down her daughter, the uptight queen giving way to the loving mother. A knowing look swept over her features. "The Athars are as tied into the throne as we Fells are. When Nigel lost his oldest son two years ago, Edward became the natural successor. He doesn't have much say in the matter, I'm afraid."

"He doesn't have much say because we still rule the old way… invoking Article 24 would give us all the freedom we crave… it would bring about a new era for Angloa and the Conventus."

"You place a lot of faith in the Conventus," Leonore said.

"I will invoke Article 24, Mama, when I take the throne. You knew that or you wouldn't have invoked Article 13."

"Invoking Article 24 will not be a dance on roses," Leonore said. She pursed her lips, deep in thought. "I think we both need to confide this in de la Cereda, before we consider taking the next step."

"If Samuel finds out what I plan to do… do you think he would instigate a vote in the Conventus? If it were to come to a vote now, would Article 24 even have the majority? You nor I can exert it through executive power, neither can the PM."

"Your brother sold us out to the press when he spoke of the SCR, it wouldn't be beneath him to reveal Article 24 and twist it to his favor." Leonore shook her head. "His little stunt has strengthened his position with both sides in the Conventus. I hear whispers that Ascham might call for a vote to revoke Article 13."

"I thought Ascham was loyal to the crown."

"Ascham is loyal only to himself, like his predecessors."

"You, Sam, and I could try to solve it amongst ourselves before this goes further, Mama. He is acting out—"

"Your brother needs to know that there are consequences for his actions. He can't expect to be king now, not after the delicate information he chose to divulge to the people. I know you love him, and so do I. But he does not have the propriety or skillset to lead a country, Victoria. He will let others persuade him in difficult matters. It could spell disaster for this nation. You stand by your principles and have a stronger moral compass, you will not be persuaded because it would benefit your own comfort, and you care for the people on a level he does not. He thinks himself above them. That is not what we are, we are as much a servant to the people as any person working in the public sector. Unless he understands this, he could never truly have become king. It saddens me to say but it is the harsh reality. I as a mother am devastated, but as a queen I must choose for the benefit of the people—something you will be faced with in the future as well."

Victoria lowered her gaze, saddened that her family would become so torn by their sense of duty. Samuel wanted the crown, Leonore tolerated the crown while Victoria wished for nothing more than a silent and simple life. Becoming queen was never something she had expected or wished for.

"There is still time to mend family ties, Mama… there is still time to bring Sam back. He must be burdened, even if he chooses not to show it."

"It is a path he has chosen himself," Leonore said pointedly.

"I would not want him to walk it alone," Victoria whispered, mostly to herself.


Come the evening, Bella had chosen to wander the bustling streets. Midsummer had come and passed and now as the summer solstice was behind them, the days would slowly grow shorter. It was a realization she chose to ignore. She stalked the high street, looking into the shops, albeit feeling empty inside.

Her feet took her to the outskirts of Hayes, wandering the same path she had taken with Edward. Bella had scarcely said another word to Mia, but the bath had done her some good.

Past the medieval walls, nestled against the tree line of Raven's Grove, she spotted St. Nicholas. The sun was setting, and she had no wish to return to the Laughing Goose and confront Mia. Bella entered the small church, finding it was filled by people. She read the advertising board; a small concert had been organized for the evening. By the altar, enveloped by the warmth of flickering candlelight, stood a small choir. Bella slipped inside and chose to stand at the back, watching as they sang intently. The first few songs were calm, inviting, settling down her troubled mind. She recognized the third song—as did most who were from Hayes.

"Twas in the king's castle I was born and raised,

And it's there that my courtly garments were made.

"There lives my father, there lives my mother,

And there live my sister and brother."

"But where are your fields and where are your lands,

And where in the world does your bridal bed stand?

"Where in the world does your true love lie,

With whom you will live and die?"

It was an old Cadherran folksong with a folkloric melody. It had been made vastly famous throughout Angloa as it had been sung by the barricaded men and women of the castle during the Singing Battle of Adelton Hall. Famously, it had been Isabella Swan who had started the singing, or so legend said. The choir in St. Nicholas rendered the song in a softer chant and coupled together with the dull light within the church it enveloped them in an enthralling dream. Bella let herself be taken in by the song, having known it well.

She leaned against the pillar, listening to the tunes, as enthralled as the other spectators when a light hand fell on her shoulder. She swiftly turned around, coming face to face with Edward Athar, a cap low over his features.

"Can we talk?" he leaned in to whisper. His voice tickled her ear.

"We have nothing to talk about."

"We have everything to talk about."

"I don't have the strength to listen to any of your excuses—"

"Schhh!" someone in the crowd in front of them said, they were glaring at the couple before turning back to the choir.

Edward signaled for the entrance and Bella reluctantly followed him. He kept heading for the tree line, past the church, and into the woods that were, by now, enveloped in the darkness of an early evening. The candlelight from within the church could still be seen from where they stood.

Edward removed the cap when he was certain they were not seen by anyone.

He placed his hands in his pockets and, for the first time, he looked uncomfortable. He had always seemed so relaxed and at ease in her presence, but now it was the opposite. He wore a black T-shirt and a pair of white linen trousers.

For once in her life, Bella didn't speak, she stared at him, waiting for the inevitable explanation—the excuses she had gotten so used to by now.

"I'm sorry," he said bluntly.

She shrugged, still resolute not to speak yet.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you from the start, you had every right to know about me…about the mission…everything but—"

"There it is," Bella said. "But."

"But," he continued alas, he stopped himself with a frown. "No, you're right…there isn't any excuse." He looked at her straight in the eyes. "I know sorry doesn't do it for you."

Bella took a few steps nearing him, staring up into his eyes deeper. "The night you almost ran me over in Hayes with the bike, was that really by accident?"

Her voice wavered as she asked, her eyes glittering with the need to know and Edward felt himself draw a sharp breath, his heart jumping a beat.

"It was," he said.

"And the day we met at campus, that was a coincidence too?"

"It wasn't."

"The summer party in the Aldea gardens?"

"It wasn't."

"In Hayes?"

"It wasn't."

She nodded haphazardly. He could see the machinations of her mind taking place, a million questions no doubt slowly coming to the surface, yet she never asked him and he felt the worse for it. He knew that whatever he tried to tell her now would only sound like lame excuses that she would never buy, she deserved more credit than that.

"I was only a job," she nodded. "I understand."

The words stung him. "Bella—"

"I will never tell a soul about you, so don't worry. I have no idea what role you or the SCR play in this, what I do understand is that it has so much more to do with than just a portrait and a letter. I… have no wish or strength to continue this search with you guys… please… I… I couldn't take it." Her voice broke. "I thought we—" she stopped herself before making a complete fool of herself. Of course someone like Edward Athar would never have anything but a professional interest for her. He had never sought her out because he was interested in her, he did it because he was tasked with looking after her.

"I can find my own way back," she said after a pregnant pause, turning to leave Raven's Grove.

Edward watched as Bella left the forest, clenching and unclenching his fists. After a while, he too left the woods, only to be met at St. Nicholas by an old friend.

"Judging by the look on your face, it didn't go well," Jasper Hale said as he approached Edward. They had been through much together as members of the SCR and it was Jasper who had helped him meet up with Bella behind Carlisle's back as well as he could.

"I need a drink or two," Edward said in a subdued manner.

Jasper had never seen Edward so beaten down before. "She didn't want to know more about you or us?"

"She was done with the entire thing," he sighed. "I don't blame her… but I wish I could have told her more…"

"Time heals all wounds. When this all blows over you should seek her out again and have a real conversation. She knows the truth, and from what I've seen, she would be at least open to listen, Ed."

Edward leaned against the side of the church, a pensive look on his face. "I hurt her, Jasper, I deeply hurt her. I never want to cause that expression on her face again." He looked down resolutely. "I think it would be best for her if I removed myself from her life, for the time being."

Jasper nodded, a sad smile stretching on his lips. "Tomorrow's headlines should be interesting," he said, changing the subject.

"Then they have been alerted?"

"A team has been sent to Hayes this afternoon. By tomorrow they'll have discovered the marks. Carlisle managed to alert some reporters to the whole thing. It's going to be broadcasted live as they uncover the tomb."

"I have no idea how he managed to get approval on that," Edward muttered. Carlisle had always intrigued him. "His connections know no end."

"That's why he's the director and we work the field." Jasper placed a comforting arm around Edward who, in some sense, was like a younger brother to him. "Now, Emmett and Jacob are at the Topsy Turvey having a few beers last I heard. Why don't we join them? There is a room in the back, away from the public. Esme already spoke with the owner."

"Your connections know no end either, you sly Fox," Edward blinked but the feigned cheeriness did not quite reach his eyes.


Bella and Mia prepared their luggage to make ready for their departure back to Safeira. Bella felt conflicted about Hayes, for she had discovered more than she had hoped to in the dreamy town. She knew things would change now once she returned. The rest of the summer was still in front of her yet she couldn't wait for the university to start once more in the fall and leave this rackety spring behind her. A pair of certain emerald eyes would, every once in a while, pop into her mind.

Sitting on the evening train back to Safeira, Mia was buried in her phone. Ever since the Masque and Mia's witness of Bella's confrontation with Edward, she had been more distant. As the blurry landscape shifted outside the window and the sun settled behind the Durun mountains, Bella let her forehead rest against the cool glass. A part of her still burned to know what was to become of the painting, what had been found in the crypts of Adelton, and what would become of the letter. Another part of her lingered on the rains of Cadherra crashing down on her as she chastised Edward in the courtyard of Adelton, remembering the look in his eyes. Maybe a part of her wanted to believe him so badly that she now conjured up the hurt look in his eyes. Had that been true or was her mind making it up? He was, after all, part of the SCR—rumored by the press to aid the crown in anything they wished removed that would negatively affect them. He formed part of something she stood against in every possible way. Bella was for liberty, open and honest relations—not working in the shadows. Her hunger for unveiling the secret of the General's portrait had clouded her mind and made her blind to the machinations of the SCR. Indeed, they had been talking of another organization but never bothered informing her of them, despite pressing on the urgency should that organization ever find out about her. Bella scoffed, the Director had probably made it up. In fact, could he not be speaking of the SCR itself?

"Holy shit!" Mia exclaimed as she stared down at her phone dumbfounded. Her eyes glanced up, meeting Bella's. Bella hadn't seen Mia this surprised in a while and looked over at her phone.

"What?"

"Damn, if this is true…" Mia trailed off as she handed the phone over to Bella.

In bold lettering, on the Evening News bulletin, Bella could read a sentence she never expected to see.

The grave of Isabella and William Fell opened by order from the Ministry of Culture found empty.

Empty.

Bella clutched the phone in her hands. Her hypothesis had been wrong in so many ways. The letter she suspected had been placed there was nowhere to be found. Instead, the marks indicating the tomb had been opened must instead have been by someone who had removed the bodies.

She kept reading, mainly speculations regarding the strange new discovery. This was a large breakthrough. Where had one of the most prevalent couples in Angloan history disappeared to? Was the SCR involved?

The rest of the train ride, she and Mia were glued to their respective phones. For once, Mia was as interested as Bella. Bella couldn't wait to get home, she knew she wanted to use the old Nokia phone, call the Director, and demand answers. This was far beyond the scope she had imagined.

As the train rolled into Safeira central station late in the evening, Mia and Bella finally turned off their screens and got their suitcases. They descended onto the platform and slowly made their way to the front. They said little to one another, giving a half-hearted hug before flagging down their respective cabs.

As Bella sat in the car, she felt for the Nokia phone in her purse, noticing it was still there. She wondered if it was still pertinent to keep it or if she should do the wise thing and throw it away—it wouldn't do to involve herself now that news of the tomb circulated. She had no idea what the end game of the SCR was and she didn't want to find out.

She dragged her luggage up the stairs of her apartment complex, the elevator still out of order. Bella muttered as, despite the evening, the summer heat had finally arrived in Safeira. She suspected she wouldn't be able to sleep, even with open windows.

She fumbled, as she always did, with her keys by the door when she noticed that it was open.

A cold chill ran through her as her mouth dried. Bella stood in the desolate hallway, unaware of how to proceed. She didn't have anyone she could call now—whoever had broken into her apartment could be the SCR for all she knew. She squeezed the keys in her hand. Would someone be in there waiting for her?

Bella fished out her phone, looking up Mia's number but hesitating on the call button. Roping Mia into this would only drag her into the same situation and Bella knew Mia would never forgive her. Bella's heartbeat increased as a nauseating feeling overtook her. She took a step back—tired of this all being normal to her now, tired of looking over her shoulder because she had, back in May, made a stupid mistake.

Then the fear was suddenly replaced with anger. Who was this stranger that thought they had the right to so unceremoniously break into her house? Without thinking she barged in, turning on the lights.

Her apartment was a mess, furniture overturned, and all her drawers emptied on the living room floor. All cabinets in her kitchen were opened, and some light fixtures in the living room had been broken.

Bella stared at her apartment in defeat. It had always felt like a safe haven to her and she knew she needed to bring this to the police. This wasn't safe anymore. Someone, the SCR or someone else, had targeted her because of her involvement with the painting. After the discovery of the tomb, it must have been the final straw.

She dialed the emergency hotline instead, about to press the green button and bring an end to it all when what felt like a cable suddenly came around her throat and tightened around it. Bella dropped her phone as her hands instinctively went up to her throat while she gasped for air. She clawed at her throat to no avail, looking around at anything she could use as a weapon against whomever now stood behind her. Stray tears escaped her eyes as her body started giving out on her and she realized to her horror that she wouldn't be able to fend off the intruder. Bella gave out a strangled sound of frustration and desperation. She didn't want to die, not like this, strangled in her own apartment. She fell on her knees, the cable tightening around her throat and the breath of her killer hitting the side of her face.

As her vision started darkening, and her limbs grew heavy, the immense pressure around her throat suddenly vanished. Bella didn't register what had just happened as she fell to the floor, only the sounds of a scuffle and grunts intermingled with the sickening sound of punches reverberating through her ears.

She found it hard to breathe still, as if her windpipe had been crushed. She didn't know how much time passed before a pair of strong arms pulled her into their embrace. What had once been dark and blurry now gave way to light and clarity as a pair of insect-like glasses stared down at her. She recognized the dark metal lion pin on his chest. He held her tightly in his embrace as he pulled up the glasses to reveal a pair of enthralling emerald eyes.

"Bella, you have to breathe," he begged her. The voice modulator had been turned off.

She stared at him in panic, having forgotten the action and wondering if she would ever be able to do it again.

A growing concern spread in his eyes as the embrace around her tightened. "Breathe," he begged. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth as he held her, and she mimicked his action. "Good, again," he urged her calmly as he brushed away the chestnut locks from her face. She read fear in his eyes and the act of seeing them beneath the mask instantly humanized him, pushing away the stoic SCR agent and pulling in the man beneath the mask.

Bella breathed as tears streamed down her pale cheeks, unaware of her wide horrified eyes staring back at him, or the horrific bruising slowly forming around her neck. She was also unaware of the perpetrator that had almost taken her life being dragged into an unmarked van by another SCR agent sporting the Yellow patch on his arm, Bear. Fox, the agent with the red patch, guarded the building, and Wolf, with the blue patch searched through it in case there were others.

Edward held her in his embrace, afraid to let her go lest she stop breathing again. When her breath seemed to have settled, he slowly pulled her further into his arms, careful to be delicate with her. "I'm sorry, Bella." His voice shook despite himself, and Bella was still too shocked to register what had just transpired.

"I'm sorry," he said as he held her, never wanting to let go.


A/N: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter! I am sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. Lots of excuses you wouldn't want to be troubled with save one. The Secrets of the Court trilogy, as some of you may already known, was originally written as an original story. I have for the past months taken it back to its original form, worked on the writing and brushed up on the plot (inconsistencies can't be avoided when you're writing as a 22-year-old haha). Anyway, I wanted to post my original writing somewhere accessible, and where I easily could upload not just the stories, but also more things, like lore and illustrations! (I have just discovered AI art!) So, while still a work in progress, Secrets of the Court is now almost finished, posted in its original form and can be found on SUMNERSTORIES/./COM Please go over there and let me know what you think and make sure to share it wherever you can :D

This fic will still be uploaded here until it is finished, but eventually, the rest of the trilogy, Adeamus and The Portrait and The Letter will be there as well. And a future trilogy will be uploaded there later this fall which I am very excited about!

Cheers!

Isabelle