Chapter 13 

Six months later, Clara lived with her mother in a small countryside house.

Gideon had survived.

Julian had recovered.

The war was over.

At least officially.

One winter morning, Clara received a letter.

No sender.

No seal.

Inside was a photograph.

Julian standing beside General Cross.

But the photograph was dated twenty-nine years earlier.

Before Julian was born.

On the back were seven words:

Your father was never the man you knew.

Clara’s hands trembled.

Julian entered the room.

“What happened?”

She gave him the photograph.

He stared.

His face slowly changed.

“Where did you get this?”

“It arrived today.”

He turned the photograph over.

There was another line beneath the first.

Ask Gideon about the child he buried.

Julian looked at Clara.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t ask him.”

“Why?”

“Because my father once told me something.”

“What?”

Julian’s voice became quiet.

“He said there was another child.”

Clara felt cold.

“Another child?”

“My father’s second son.”

“Elias.”

Julian shook his head.

“No.”

“Then who?”

Julian looked toward the window.

“I don’t know.”

A horse approached outside.

A messenger dismounted.

He carried a black envelope.

Julian opened it.

Inside was a single military insignia.

The same black crown.

And beneath it:

THE WAR WAS NEVER ABOUT THE BORDER.

Julian looked at Clara.

For the first time since the war ended, fear returned to his eyes.