CHAPTER 135
The journey back to the capital stretched longer than Mathew expected. The satchel at his side felt heavier with each mile, though it carried only brittle scraps of parchment. He guarded it as though it were treasure, never letting it out of reach. At night, when he stopped to rest, he laid it beside him and woke at every sound, hand gripping the hilt of his dagger.
The wind was sharp, the kind that cut the skin instead of cooling it. By the time the walls of the capital appeared in the distance, his eyes burned from lack of sleep. Yet his thoughts were sharper still.
If he returned and laid the testimonies before Grace, he would be placing not only Robert's memory on trial but also the court itself. Someone had hidden those records, someone powerful enough to make them vanish. If that hand was still in the court, then Mathew's life would be in danger the moment the truth surfaced.
