The Portrait and The Letter

Chapter 17

"Please, just tell me who you're with, Bella," Mia pleaded on the other end. '

Bella massaged her temples, a sigh making its way up her throat. "Mia, there is so much I want to tell you—need to tell you. But I can't right now, okay? I'm not going away for long, but I do need to get away. You know that, don't you?"

There was a hesitation on the other end of the line. Mia had had an inkling that Bella was involved with something or someone troublesome. For the past few months, Bella had been secretive, stressed and so focused on a task she didn't even wish to speak of, that Mia wondered what it might really be tied to. She wasn't a fool, she knew it had more to do with than Mike, or any other man in that regard. The way Bella had acted whenever the portrait of the General had been mentioned and now her strange disappearance from the public eye had Mia wondering if Bella was somehow involved in the restoration of the painting. But, then why would it be kept a secret?

"I am only a call away, Bella."

Bella couldn't help but to smile.

"I know," Bella said softly. She felt Edward stare at her from the couch with a frown and she couldn't help but chuckle.

"Your voice sounds awful," Mia muttered on the other end of the line. Then a sigh followed. "Here I thought you would come with me to the Summer Gala on the 5th."

Bella's shoulders sank. "I don't know if I'll be able to make it, sorry," she genuinely apologized, pressing the phone to her ear. "Although," Bella said with a slight twinge of hesitation to her voice, making Edward place his attention on her again, "I'd want that," she admitted, desolate.

"Bella," Mia's voice came in on the other end, but she couldn't find the rest of the sentence.

"Talk to you soon, okay?" Bella said, knowing it was time to end the conversation. When she put down the phone and went to sit opposite Edward in the couch, he couldn't help but notice her forlorn look.

He put down a stack of papers, taking in her expression.

"So," he asked, breaking the silence.

Bella looked up, startled by the brash masculine voice. "What?"

He settled back with a growing smile on his face, as if he knew something she didn't. "About Hayes and Cadherra? You might not have seen it under the circumstances you wished for, but you did."

Bella couldn't help as her own face split into a warm smile as she drifted back to the thought of Hayes. "It was beyond what I could have imagined… to be there… to see Adelton and attend the Masque."

"The Coticellis certainly outdid themselves with your costume." The way he looked at her almost coursed an uncontrolled stir in Bella. She swallowed, drawn in by him. For days they had been sharing quarters, a tension building between them that hadn't gone unnoticed by any of them.

"Your ensemble wasn't too bad either," she responded back. "It suited you."

He cast her a sly smile before looking back down at his stack of papers. Bella suddenly felt disappointed. The conversation hadn't gone in the direction she had hoped… and it dawned suddenly on her that it probably never would. She was probably seeing things she wished to see. His attention to her before she had discovered his secret had purely been because of his identity as Cullen. But now, that the mask had fallen away, he didn't have to keep the same level of interest in her, she supposed.

Something in Bella's heart froze, recognizing all too well the scenario, for she had known it before. He was an Athar just like Mike was a Newton. She didn't belong to his world. How could she have been so stupid? How could she ever have presumed to think that Edward Athar would ever hold an interest in her?

She tightened her jaw, thinking of another topic she might change to. "The grave was empty," she said, savoring the words. She would just have to strangle this growing crush she had for Edward. It would be easy, she lied to herself.

Edward nodded. "We confirmed it… they're still running tests, but everything indicates to the grave never having been used, the letter was never there, Bella. I'm sorry."

She clasped her hands, letting her head sink into them. They were back at square one and she would be stuck there until she pulled them forward.

"Why would the Council go to such lengths to put their secrecy in danger for that letter or the secret of William Fell? It never made sense to me," she said looking down, slowly raising her eyes and looking inquisitively at Edward, "unless you know someone who's a member." Her lips thinned as she waited for an answer.

She had never seen Edward caught off guard before, and the sensation of subjecting him to such an uneasy feeling was mirrored in Bella. She felt guilty for even subjecting him to the scrutiny after he had saved her life, but she did not back down from her question. He had promised transparency, after all, and transparency she would get.

"Because the members of The Council have a very twisted idea about certain things, Bella. Most of them believe in old ideas and secret oaths kept a long time ago. During the days of William Fell, having his secret exposed could have been catastrophic for the monarchy… it might have led to an English victory with the help of Victoria Fell. The reason he had such a lasting and prosperous reign was because the nobility and powerful lords backed him. They saw in him an individual that was good through to the core, a man with high moral standards in a time when such a thing was not so easily found. If it had ever come to light that he had hidden behind the disguise of Edward Cullen, there was a belief that the lords would misinterpret that as William securing the army and the north in his favor. That is how some would paint him today as well, it is believed. But we cannot know what the general consensus about him would be—if he truly wished to secure the crown when he first came to Angloa, or if he arrived because of something else. The letter, it is believed, would reveal everything. It might still be scrutinized, but it would be William's words that would be scrutinized, not the general presumption that he did or didn't do something."

"And The Council would fight to keep this notion of William Fell a secret? Because of the presumption that he had a high moral compass?"

"The Council is of the belief that noble blood, blue blood, and its likeness, is better than that of the masses… than that of common people. They uphold William as an excellent example of this. They will go to great lengths to keep it that way… it is tradition."

"To what extent would they be willing to go?"

Edward lowered his eyes and Bella got the feeling that there was an untold story that he had yet to explain to her.

"When the portrait and the letter were discovered, and their importance to The Council, the SCR finally had something to go after. The mission that started years ago was to keep Mr. Barker from being reelected into the Conventus."

"Mr. Barker is part of The Council," Bella added in disbelief.

"Trying to weed him out is like trying to uproot a tree with nothing but your hands."

There was something in his countenance that revealed to Bella they were approaching a touchy subject for him, something he rarely delved into, and she didn't want to push him as he hovered between telling her and not.

"Is that why you joined the SCR?" she asked, the words escaping from her lips before she could process having said them.

Edward clenched his jaw, glancing up at her as he did so, indicating that the conversation was over.

Bella wanted to ask, she wanted to know—but she respected him too much to delve further into such a painful subject.

Spending gentle and peaceful summer days at the hidden woodland cabin in Sorossa might have been fine with Edward. It was a breath of fresh air, a moment of relaxation. Bella knew his secret and had finally accepted it. But she didn't accept the situation she was in. She, now more than ever, wanted to unmask The Council to its full extent, find the letter, weed them out and make them known to Angloa.

How? She was still working on that. She couldn't begin to wrap her head around the fact that there were men and women out there that thought people like her were so far beneath them, or were so afraid that the secret of William Fell would be revealed that they would kill people to keep it a secret.

The letter hadn't been in the tomb of William Fell, and neither had he nor Swan. Maybe Lionel Wilson had never taken it with him to Cadherra, to begin with. Bella wondered if, despite its significance, the letter was even needed. Victoria Fell had been declared heir to the throne. She was known as a progressive, in line with Abigail de la Cereda. Fear that she would invoke Article 21 could be enough to have The Council chase after her.

Bella had spoken to the Director about it, but he assured her that they were keeping a strict eye on the princess, as well as her brother. After all, Edward Athar was a personal close friend to the prince. He, if anyone, would know if Samuel was planning something.

Bella wasn't roped in, but Carlisle had no inclination to believe, or proof, that Samuel Fell was part of The Council. But maybe that was more wishful thinking than the harsh reality. He had, for the past few years, been so engaged in the cat-and-mouse chase of the portrait and the letter, that he hadn't stopped to think the young prince might have, after all, been persuaded of the more traditional ways of The Council.

It was a calm afternoon, unusually hot even though it was the final days of June. Bella was sitting on the terrace, reading her favorite book about Isabella Swan and her life when she felt the presence of someone behind her suddenly startle her.

She looked up, expecting to find Edward, but came face to face instead with insect-like eyes. Her eyes quickly drifted to the chest, wondering if she would find the lion pin, only to find instead the blue patch. This was the agent Edward had referred to as Wolf at the Ascham estate.

She smiled awkwardly. The other agents had never been close enough for her to interact with. She placed aside the book as he remained looking at her.

"Can I help you?" she asked. He had wanted to make his presence known. Since she had woken up at the cabin, it had mostly been her, Edward, and occasionally the Director.

"Edward won't make dinner tonight."

She had almost forgotten the eerie dark voice so characteristic of the SCR agents now that Edward didn't appear before her in disguise anymore.

She frowned. "Why couldn't he tell me himself?" she demanded.

'Wolf' shrugged, ready to leave.

"What really happened two years ago?" she blurted out after him.

He abruptly turned around, everything in his countenance revealing what was probably confusion behind the mask.

She shrugged apologetically, trying her luck with the agent.

"That's for the captain to tell you."

"Why do you think I'm asking you?"

He started moving away.

"Edward lost someone?" she asked.

Wolf turned around. "You really didn't know he was an Athar at first?"

"I don't tend to keep up with that kind of stuff," she admitted sheepishly.

"Shouldn't be that hard for you to figure out, then," Wolf replied. He walked up to her, kneeling before her. "We are brothers, Ms. Dwyer, and would go to great lengths to protect one another. If he has not told you, it is because he doesn't want to."

She stared into the insect eyes, trying to read the person behind the mask, just like she had once tried with Edward. "I… I was just curious," she murmured awkwardly.

"And look where it got you."

Her cheeks flushed. "I resent that statement… I don't have the luxury of hiding behind a mask like you… I can't just take it off and go back to a normal civilian life like you. If you're here to insult me, I'd rather you leave."

He straightened up, staring down at her as another set of footsteps approached. Bella hoped it was Edward or even the Director, but as another agent, this one with a red patch on his arm approached, her hopes dwindled.

"Don't be so harsh, Wolfie," the low voice said as Fox came to stand next to them. He looked down at Bella, his countenance much more enjoyable.

Without a word, she stood up. "I don't mind eating dinner alone tonight," she mumbled awkwardly as she walked past them."

Wolf stared as Bella walked past them.

"You know I think she is on the right track about Hayes… maybe she deviated but the tomb was empty after all, that doesn't indicate that we are searching in the wrong place. If anything, we are closer than ever. She needs encouragement, Jacob, not harsh words. She is only trying to help."

Jacob Black frowned behind the mask, disliking it whenever Jasper used his real name when they were in uniform.

"Then she should have listened to us and never attended the Masque."

"Shut up, you're only sour with her because for once, Edward is focused on something else besides the SCR."

"That's not a good thing!"

"That's exactly what it is, Jacob. She is good for him."

For the entire night, Bella kept going over her old notes leading up to the Masque in Hayes. She hadn't noticed, as she sat by the warm light of the lamp next to her, how dark it had become outside.

A sudden noise from the tall window caused her to look up. There, out in the meadow, Bella saw a small flock of deer. It had to be very early in the morning, the sun had yet to rise. Mist coated parts of the meadow and as she crept closer to the opened window, the smell of dew enveloped her.

She stared at the deer as they scoured the meadow for food. Her theory had been dependent on one big flaw—that William and Swan had been buried in the crypts of Adelton Hall. It had been one variable that was faulty, but she was still of the belief that the letter had to have been entombed with the old king and queen.

She ran an agitated hand through her hair. Despite her knowledge of history, she didn't know enough details concerning the entombment of the Fells to continue. She would need help in this department, help she wouldn't be able to get in Sorossa. She would have to interview an expert in the field. That much she understood.

She would have to return to Safeira.

The Director and the SCR agents wouldn't like that. Her gut feeling told her that William was still somewhere in Cadherra, he had to be. The province was too significant for him to be elsewhere.

Victoria Fell was in the embrace of her husband as Leonore spoke in hushed words with Athar and Abigail in the next room. The distressed tears of the crown princess extended beyond the thick walls of Aldea.

"This cannot be known, if it gets out—" Athar said, quickly interrupted by Abigail.

"We need to involve the Chief of Police of Safeira, the goddamned BNI!" the PM growled.

Leonore stared out the window in the early morning. Today was the final day of June, the sweet fragrance of summer betraying the sinking feeling taking hold in her heart as she heard her daughter's laments in the other room.

"This is beyond what Samuel would do," the queen stated harshly. "My son is not involved."

"Have any demands been made yet?" Abigail asked.

Leonore turned around. "Nothing. This is only a message."

"You can't seriously think this has to do with Article 21," Athar said in disbelief.

"This has everything to do with Article 21." Leonore turned to Abigail. "I'd start with Mr. Barker, maybe Lord Ascham."

Abigail's shoulders sank. "Barker is many things, but not a kidnapper."

"You don't know what Barker is," Leonore snapped back, turning once more to stare out the windows, the wails of her daughter breaking her heart. She had to keep composure, she had to be strong, now more than ever. "You have no idea to what lengths he may go to."

Abigail was pacing, her mind spinning, a sickening feeling settling in her stomach. It had been one hour since she had gotten out of bed and rushed through Safeira to Aldea.

"The Bureau of National Intelligence will be notified. I know Marcus personally, he is beyond discrete and will handle this with the utmost discrepancy," she mumbled, setting aside her personal feelings. As a mother herself, however, that was hard. "Whatever your connection is with the SCR, ma'am, if there ever was one, I'd rope them in as well."

"And meanwhile?" Athar demanded. "We can't keep this under wraps forever. At one point it will get out. The Summer Gala feast is days away, Her Royal Highness is expected to make an appearance."

Leonore clenched her fists. "If Marcus Raleigh is discrete enough, Abigail, then have him bring in my son for questioning. Samuel may not be part of this, but he may know of it, of that I am certain."

Edward sat in front of his friend's townhouse in disbelief. Samuel was many things, but he was no kidnapper. At least that was what Edward wanted to believe. To think that he would have turned to men like Barker in hopes of securing the throne through them had Edward sick to his stomach.

He pressed on the small pad next to his glasses, zooming in. Samuel was sleeping with the windows open. It would be easy to get in. But, as Carlisle had said, it could also be a trap.

"He can't know about The Council," Edward said into the microphone.

"Don't let personal feelings cloud your judgment," said Carlisle on the other side.

He sat perched on a wall, opposite the townhouse in the luxurious northeast part of town, right below Aldea, close to the harbor. The restaurant where Edward and Bella had taken their first lunch was not far away.

The white curtains danced in the gentle breeze in the open window. Did Sam even know what had just transpired? The SCR knew of the meeting that had taken place in his townhouse a few days ago. Edward had been invited, after all. Whatever Sam had agreed to, he must never have realized it would go this far, or at least Edward hoped so.

"All is clear, the systems are offline," Emmett said on the line.

Without hesitation, Edward jumped off the roof, letting himself fall sufficiently before hooking onto the line that had been prepared by him a few minutes earlier. He swung silently onto the balcony, quickly disappearing through the folds of the white curtains.

The room was silent as Edward crouched by the bed. He saw nothing, nor heard anything save the peaceful sleeping breaths of Sam. Edward produced the small syringe from his front pocket, preparing the small concoction that would soon enter the prince's system. Silently, like a shadow, he crept to the bedside of his friend. If Edward felt guilty, it didn't show as he without hesitation shoved the needle into Sam's neck.

A pair of panicked eyes slowly opened, foggy from sleep and never really having the time to register what was happening to him before the drugs started kicking in. Sam grew limp in bed, easier now to transport.

Within the span of five minutes, he was removed from his bed, none the wiser to it.

The next time Sam woke up, he registered a small room. He had been provided with a robe and some slippers as not to sit tethered in nothing but his briefs. His head was pounding and there was a foul taste in his mouth. He was about to raise his hand to brush his hair out of his eyes when he noticed he was bound to a metal chair.

Sam was more than awake now.

He registered a small room, a table in front of him and a mirrored wall behind it. It was an interrogation room, and he had no idea why he was being detained.

"The hell is going on!" he growled.

The door suddenly opened and in walked a dark-haired man, with some streaks of silver running through the temples. He wore thick-rimmed glasses and looked like he had spent the better part of the night in various draining meetings. He had a serious look etched onto his face—a face that Sam knew all too well.

"Raleigh?" he blurted out.

Marcus sat down in front of the prince, placing a small folder in front of him. He removed the glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he looked at Samuel with an unreadable expression.

"Do you know why you are here?"

"I know you took me from my bed against my will—"

"Do you know why you are here?" Marcus asked again. His voice was thin, strained, the judging eyes looking at him in irritation.

"If this is about that waitress at—"

Marcus opened the folder, Sam staring down at it with a frown.

There was a small Polaroid photo of his nephew, crying into the camera with a timestamp of earlier that night and a small note reading "He is safe, for now."

Sam looked up again, the frown still prevalent on his forehead as he tried to understand what was going on.

"Since you seem to lack a grasp of your situation, I will do my best to explain it as simple as possible," Marcus said in a harsh tone.

He closed the folder.

"Yesterday afternoon, your nephew disappeared from Aldea. Last night Her Royal Highness received this photo and note. Nothing more indicates that he is still alive or well. We have no other leads than you."

"Me?"

"Article 13 was invoked; you were very public about how you felt about it. The reunion at your Zafra palace with Mr. Barker and Lord Ascham, among others, is known to us. Kidnapping your sister's oldest child, and future heir to the throne is a plausible theory."

"Kidnapped? I-I haven't kidnapped anyone!" Sam started feeling the panic rising in his chest and a feeling of malaise extending in his stomach.

"Then why else take the crown prince, if not to force Victoria to abdicate her right as crown princess and pass it to you?"

Sam clenched his fists. "I want a lawyer!"

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews on the last chapter. Loved getting your thoughts and theories on what might happen next, as always :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter. We are slowly but surely creeping up on the end of yet another story taking place in Angloa.

Wishing you a wonderful day!

Cheers,

Isabelle