Once the sound of the door faded and he was alone again, Silas remained still, his gaze locked on the window, where the black sky offered no answers. For him, the reference to Tsar's Fortress evoked instinctive feelings of anger, fear, and a chilly recognition that whatever power he possessed over this circumstance was slipping away from him like sand.
He knew the man who now ruled over the fortress. Once, long ago, they had fought side by side, brothers in arms, before the title of Tsar had ever been whispered. He used to call him a friend. But that was before the exile, before blood and betrayal transformed Sasha into something darker, more untouchable.
The world now feared him, the rogue Tsar who built a citadel out of nothing and commanded loyalty with nothing but his presence. Sasha's reputation was legendary: unstoppable in battle, ruthless to his adversaries, and impossible to persuade once he set his mind or heart to something. Or someone.
