Hey there readers. So this is one of the last chapters that is entirely new to this draft of the story. It's Alex's pov. I felt like we hadn't heard from him in awhile and there were some bits of his story I really wanted to include to help understand his character and Alex's relationship with Fee from his perspective. More importantly, this chapter will give you an idea of where the rebellion stand at this point in the story... Hope you enjoy:-)

Alex

As the Capital came blurrily into view through the mist, Alex slowed his approach on the city gates. No need to act with unnecessary risk. He would take his time before attempting to gain entry through the great wall of Auresir.

 Alex had not returned to the Capital since the Vox Populi's most recent setback. While visits to Auresir had always carried great risk, in light of the current political climate, Alex deemed it wise to remain more cautious than usual and avoid the King's "golden city," remaining far from Henry Bastario's home.

But as the days continued to slip by, he grew uneasy with his isolation and the use of passing traveler's whispers to glean second-hand information on Henry's actions. Alex knew that if the rebellion was to survive, he had to ensure his contacts within the Capital remained viable and his secrets safe. In spite of the potential danger, he could stay away no longer.

Cecil Dirham's death was a set back he had not expected. Alex had come to terms with the fact the former High Chancellor was the best chance the Vox Populi had had of deposing Henry from his ill-earned throne and he had began to rely, almost excessively, on Dirham's reports and connections. Now, with no prospect to see within the palace walls, it was difficult not to feel a certain level of fear that he might never again gain such valuable intelligence. But perhaps worse than Dirham's demise was Henry's current campaign to root out all of the former High Chancellor's contacts.

The King seemed to be insatiable in his quest for blood. Not content to remove Dirham's closet allies from court, Henry had begun to employ a secret network of his elite soldiers, lead by the new Chancellor Dresden Rearder, to investigate and arrest any citizens of questionable loyalties. Rearder was one of the most frightening political figures in Erestia, so famed for his network of intelligence, it was said that the man had long ago sold his soul to demons in exchange for his remarkable ability to know of every hidden secret throughout the Empire.

As more and more supposed traitors to the Crown were arrested, tried, and executed, even the most radical of Alex's supporters became wary of meeting with him or even exchanging correspondence. The nobility was under attack and no one wished to be the next to find themselves in the executioner's grasp. Messages he attempted to send his more elite allies had been met with increasing silence. But Alex was not willing to accept defeat so easily.

Maintaining a good distance, Alex surveyed the gates through the gray mix of sleet falling all around him. The rain had started early that morning, and his woolen cloak was already thoroughly soaked, hanging heavy on his shoulders. Not the most promising start to the day, nor his mission. Pulling off his sodden gloves he rubbed his hands together to gain back feeling in the tips of his fingers. White steam hung momentarily in the air as he blowing hot breath upon them to help in the effort.

He could see the line of citizens waiting inspection by the guard was shorter than usual. No doubt the weather motivated many to remain indoors. Inauspicious condition for approach. Without throngs of people demanding to be let through, the guards were more likely to ask questions, more likely to meticulously inspect  the eyes and faces of any traveler attempting to gain admission. It was a risk Alex could not afford to take. He would just have to use his own secret entrance to gain access to the city.

It was his ventures to the Capital as a young boy that had lead him to discover it. A clump of bushes that grew tucked into a corner of the western wall, entirely hidden from view of any guard outposts. Alex's father had often taken him to Auresir as a child. As Adam Harrison's first-born son, Alex was meant to one day take over his father's rather profitable merchant trade. The man thought it best to expose his boy to life in the city from an early age in preparation for that day he might gain an apprenticeship within the walls of Auresir. But Alex had always been an adventurous spirit, never able to keep still for any length of time. His father, with his easygoing nature, often allowed Alex to wander off with his friends.

While his father engaged in important business in the market, Alex would sneak away with other merchants' sons, exploring every crack and crevice they could within the market square. But it was not enough. One day he and his friends had wondered just a bit farther to play a game of hide and seek.

Alex had always been the most skilled at disappearing. But that day, as he listened to the sound of his friend calling out, searching, Alex could find nowhere to hide. His friends were almost upon him when he noticed a dark shadowed corner of the western wall, just around the bend, overgrown with ivy. He knew if he could press himself out of the light, his pursuers might overlook him. 

But as he ran for the spot and crouched down, he noticed something intriguing. The shadow was not a shadow at all, but a small crack in the wall. Though it was barely wide enough to fit his thin frame, he managed to slip inside the slit of crumbling stone.

He remembered how his heart had pounded. Through the crack Alex could see through to the other side of the wall, shaded by a thick bush. Without a second thought he crawled beneath it, poking through the brush. He knew it was wrong to leave the city, but the thrill of adventure was too much to resist. No one would ever be able to find him on the other side of the wall.

Alex spent the rest of the afternoon running along the hillside beyond the city gates, reveling in his freedom, proud of his own cleverness. It was only the slowly setting sun that had finally forced Alex to find his way back to his secret spot and emerge back within the walls of the city.

Adam Harrison had been furious. The whole of the market square had been turned upside-down in search of his son. But though his father had tanned his backside raw, Alex never told anyone where he had been. His little secret was worth keeping. As he lay in bed that night, turned on his stomach, Alex could still remembered how pleased he was with himself. Perhaps rebellion had always been in his heart, even before he had a cause to fight for.

He never forgot about the crack in the Western wall. When Gregory Plath found Alex years later, broken, alone, wallowing in despair in the wake of his brother and stepmother's death. When he'd asked Alex to use his position within Auresir to scout information for the burgeoning rebellion, he remembered that crack. The crack in the armored wall that was intended to keep the Kings of Erestia safe. Creeping through the rain towards his own private gate and sliding into the wet brush Alex imagined his boyish self and smiled.

Having safely slipped into the market square he was careful to keep his head down, hidden by his broad-brimmed hat. Of course with the rain relentlessly attacking market goers with its icy wet, there were many similarly fighting to protect their faces and Alex fit in easily. Not that he planned to stay on the main streets for long. It was risky enough entering the Capitol City without giving the guard a chance to catch him in broad daylight. While it seemed the monarchy's current targets involved the more elite of Erestia, no doubt Henry would still be more than happy to take his head and end any possibility of the Vox Populi's continuance.

"Excuse me." A sharp voice forced Alex to look up as his shoulder collided with a passerby.

"Sorry, ma'am I..." Alex stopped as his eyes met the face of the woman he'd hit. Her mouth was pursed in a tight scowl, her dark brown eyes annoyed. For a moment he lost all words. She looked just like Fiona.

"What are you staring at," the woman snapped. Alex blinked in confusion. He could see now that the resemblance was less than he'd thought. This sour woman was not nearly as pretty as the Nita. He quickly looked down again, his heart pounding in his chest as her glare continued to rain down on him, icy as the sleet. It seemed unlikely that she had recognized his face, but he'd been foolish to give here the chance to do so.

"You should watch where you're going," The woman remarked as she gave him one final glower and went on her way. Alex breathed a sigh of relief and quickly slipped down a side street.

He cursed himself for such carelessness. He'd given the women a full ten second to stare. What if she'd been a spy for the King? For Dresden Rearder? 

"Focus Alex," he chided himself. But he knew why she had caught him off guard. Even her passing resemblance to Fiona Amoral had been enough to throw him off balance.

He had never forgotten her. Not once. Though he'd allowed over a decade to pass between them. He knew when Fiona had agreed to meet, his heart had felt more joy than it had since their parting. Alex's life had been about revenge for so long, but Fiona Amoral had the ability to make him forget. To feel something beyond that deadened resolve. It had been so ever since they first met.

She infuriated him, frustrated him, and aroused in him a sense of desire he had never felt for another. Now, in such dire need of a friend and comrade he could trust implicitly, Alex craved Fiona's presence by his side all the more. But Alex had heard nothing from the Nita since their last meeting, and in her silence, he felt any chance of alliance between them slipping away.

Losing his temper with Fiona had been a mistake. He knew she had right to be cautious. Her fears were reasonable. He knew too that time would never fully erase the guilt he felt at having allowed Plath to abandon the Senmin. But he was younger then. Gregory had been his mentor. He looked up to him and obeyed without question. Moreover, Alex never wanted to admit how close he was to Fiona. It could only have served to bring trouble upon them both. Though her questions when last they'd met had enraged him and he'd been furious to see the clear signs that she did not trust his judgment, with Dirham dead Alex knew he needed Fiona's help more than ever. 

He knew she had continued to receive invitations to the palace and had in fact attended a feast at Henry's court not three days prior. Though he could not imagine what the King's goal might be in attempting to win Fiona's favor, he presumed the man was likely to continue in his endeavor.He could not help but wonder if the King's infatuation with the Nita might provide the eyes he needed within the place. If of course, she would agree to join him again. 

But Alex had seen it in her eyes, even through her fears and distrust. She still cared for him. She did not trust Henry. Might she answer one of the many messages Alex had attempted to send? Would she reach out to him again now that Dirham was dead? Or had he truly lost her forever? He knew that was the real question that had drawn him to the city today. He had to know, and for that, he had to visit Andrew Knacker's.

At the familiar jingle of the bells on the doors of the small shop labeled Odds and Ends, Alex felt himself relax slightly. The shop owner was a friend and had been for a long time. Knacker was a ruthless businessman and dealt in all sorts of illegal affairs, but to his customers, he was a loyal employee. Though Alex trusted no one implicitly, Andrew Knacker at least predictable. He worked for those who could pay. As long as Alex continued to do so, the man would keep his secrets. More importantly, it was through Knacker that Alex trafficked any important messages he received from his contacts. Alex knew if Fiona had sent a message, Andrew would have it.

Andrew was seated at his desk when he entered, but the man looked up with surprise as recognition crossed his face seeing Alex's broad-brimmed hat pass through the door.

"Alex?" he asked with a touch of disbelief as Alex removed his hat. The man quickly scurried to the windows, drawing the curtains as fast as he could before locking the door. Not surprising Andrew would have little desire for any passerby to catch a glimpse of the infamous Alexander Harrison in his shop.

"Gotta say I'm surprised to see you here. Thought you'd be laying low for awhile." Alex could see the slight discomfort on the man's face as he offered him the chair across from him with a gesture of his hand.

"Don't really know the meaning of the word," Alex answered, tossing his hat on the desk and hanging his sodden cloak on the back of his chair.

"Suppose you never did," Andrew agreed with a sigh. "Still, I assume you're here for a reason and not just sticking your neck out for fun. King's been eager to cut off whatever heads he finds in his path these days. I'm sure you've heard."

Alex nodded. "Twenty so far if I'm not mistaken, including the High Prison Commissioner. Another thirty in Portenbrough awaiting trail."

"No one said Henry was a forgiving man," Andrew answered, turning his mouth down in a half frown. "To be fair, there was a large portion of the Empire that stood poised to strike against him. Now that he has Dresden Rearder to aid in his hunt for traitors... Well, let's just say Rearder has the best nose of any bloodhound the King might have employed to that purpose. Course it's also likely the man is using his position to take down a few of his own enemies as well, regardless of their allegiance to the new Crown."

"All will suffer for Henry's anger," Alex said shaking his head sadly.

"That's true enough," Andrew agreed. "Our new King will cut a bloody swath through his own people before he's done. He won't spare those who get in the way. Henry will do anything to feel safe again after Dirham's betrayal."

Alex said nothing. He didn't want to admit how much the former Chancellor's downfall stood to affect the rebellion even in his own mind.

"So what can I do for you?" Andrew asked. "Not saying I ain't glad to see you, Alex, but I prefer not to harbor traitors in my shop. I may have friends in high places, but I'm pretty sure that nothing could save me from the rope if I was caught talking with you."

"You could always claim I came to rob ya," Alex answered with a slight grin.

Andrew didn't return the smile. "Careful Harrision, he answered. "I'll hold you to that. You know I got nothing against ya, but I'm out for myself."

Alex nodded. "I know that well enough, Andy. No need to worry, I wasn't followed here and I promise I won't stay long."

"Then you have got business for me?"

"I'm looking for anything you can give me on the state of security in the capital since Dirham's death." Alex answered, stalling before asking the question he most wanted answered. Had she left him some correspondence? The man hadn't mentioned any messages.

Andrew laughed. "The state of security? What do you take me for, the leader of the King's army? I have two, maybe three of the guards of the middle district in my employ. That's it. Sure as hell ain't going to jeopardize their good favor to help you of all people. You wanna' investigate? Do that on your own."

Alex hardened his gaze, somewhat uneasy at his answer. He hadn't expected Andrew might give him much, but hearing him distance himself from the rebellion was not a good sign. "And here I thought we were friends Andy," he said, trying to keep the tone of their conversation lighthearted.

The man laughed again. "I don't have friend's Alex, and I am under no obligation to you. Out of courtesy, I haven't given up any of the contacts I held for the Vox Populi when you were still paying, but I haven't got anything from you in months. Imagine that's the real reason you're here, isn't it? Want to make sure I haven't gone spilling any secrets yet? Rest assured I've been giving the matter serious thought."

Alex did his best to hide his frustration. It was true he hadn't paid the man since he'd last been to the city. He'd hoped Andrew would it slide in light of their past relationship.

"Well I can't exactly walk around the Capital just any day of the week to bringing you bags of gold," Alex answered, attempting to make light of Andrew's assertions.

"And your messengers?" Andrew asked, not willing to let the matter go.

Alex didn't answer.

"It was Dirham who was supporting' you wasn't it? Giving you information from inside the palace walls? Funds too I'd imagine."

Damn it, Alex thought to himself. He had not expected Andrew to be quite so observant. Would the man try to take advantage of him now that he suspected the rebellion was weakened?

"Don't know what would make you think that," Alex replied.

"Really?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't play games with me, Harrison. You won't like how things end. It's my job to keep myself aware. Knew you had to have someone pretty high ranking giving you support with the targets you started hitting. Now Dirham is executed for treason, all his friends come falling down with him, and suddenly you disappear for weeks. Not a far leap to assume he had something to do with the Vox Populi. Am I wrong?"

It seemed unless to deny his logic. Alex knew he would have to tread carefully, but there was still hope that Andrew wanted nothing more than honesty and a few extra pieces of gold to keep his alliance now that the rebellion was in a tight spot.

"You are perceptive," Alex said with a broad smile, as if the information was of no importance. "But officially, no one knows that Dirham was helping us. I'm sure the King doesn't want to lend more credence to our cause by admitting his right-hand man gave support to the Vox Populi."

"Imagine that's true," Andrew agreed.

"The Crown claims that Dirham had made an alliance with Lemenster and Russelford to build an army against the throne. That his traitorous acts were designed to use that army to unseat the King. Those men's forces were hardly secret. They'd always claimed that their desire for a standing army stemmed from the need to keep out people like me and to protect themselves from their own peasants. It was hard to prove any nefarious intent on either man's part, and both had a lot of clout in the parliament. Some no doubt believe that Henry was merely paranoid in having taken their heads. That Rearder led him astray in abandoning Dirham." Alex gave a small laugh and a rueful smile. "Course all that intrigue makes missing mention of the Vox Populi easy enough to avoid notice."

"But they were helping you?" Andrew asked?

Alex nodded. "At least Dirham was. Don't know if the other two men even knew that my people were involved in the High Chancellor's greater scheme. Might not have been."

"But Henry knows? That Dirham was giving' you support?"

The man's excessive questions made Alex uneasy. It seemed unlikely Andrew was working as a spy for Rearder of course. If he were in the Chancellor's employ and looking to catch Alex unawares, the Guard would be at the door already. Still, he wished Andrew weren't so instant on prying.

"I have to assume so," Alex answered with a nod. "The King's smart. Like I said, rumors that Lemenster and Rowland wanted to take the throne were largely conjecture. Those men were carful. Dirham was careful. Can only imagine that it was ultimately the High Chancellor's connection with me that Rearder revealed to gain  Henry's trust. There were letters, secret contacts.

"Would have been difficult to prove, but then again Rearder's known for his ability to do the impossible. Once Henry was pointed in the right direction I'm sure it didn't take long for the whole thing to unravel. Now the King probably thinks he can wipe out the rebellion quietly along with all his other foes. That he can scare folks into forgetting the voice of the people in the blood of the more elite enemies he slaughters them en masse." He said bitterly. "I have no intention of letting that happen."

They both looked up in surprise as hearing a knock at the door. Alex felt his skin turn cold. Maybe Knacker had called the guard after all? But Andrew's face looked just as worried as his own.

"Don't just stand there," Andrew hissed in a loud whisper. "Hide or something. Here" He handed Alex the hat off his desk. "Take this and cover your face at least. I'll see if I can't get whoever it is to go way, but I sure as hell won't be caught talking' to you."

Alex put the hat on his head, pulling the brim down to obscure his features, leaning against the wall motionless as the door opened wide and Andrew walked over to greet his visitor.

"Ah, John," Alex heard him say in an overly jovial manner. "I'd invite you in, but I'm trying to conduct some private business. I'm sure you understand."

"Can't stay anyway," the voice replied. " Got something for you though. A delivery from Frenwick."

Alex felt his heart rate increase. Frenwick. He rarely dared go near the town. The township head of Frenwick was Senmin as was most of the population and he knew well enough that the leaders of the Senmin resented the rebellion. He knew that being caught there by any town officials would likely earn him a speedy trip to the executioner's block and he could hardly blame them.

Though he held out hope that the Senmin might join the rebel cause eventually, Alex understood they had reason to resent the rebellion for their past suffering. In fact, he was fairly certain that Fiona might be the only one among the entire Senmin population who would not willingly hand him over to the Crown without question at present and even she was mad at him now.

Still, he knew Fiona passed through Frenwick quite often and had likely been there not one day ago on her way home from the Capitol. Was it merely coincidence that Andrew would receive a correspondence from Frenwick today? Of course he knew Knacker dealt with many clients who might have sent word from the town, but Alex felt himself filling with hope. Could this message be for him? Had Fiona agreed to speak once again?

"Thanks again John," Andrew said. The jingling bells chimed as he closed the door.

"Well?" Alex said as the man walked back to his desk.

"Well, what?" Andrew asked as he took his seat again.

Alex nodded to the paper in Andrew's hands.

"This?" The man held up the small envelope and turned it over in his fingers, tauntingly. "You don't tell me your business Harrison," Andrew answered. "What makes you think that you have any right to mine?"

"Awe, come on, Andy," Alex said. "I ain't trying to pry. I just wanna know who that was at the door." Andrew's actions suggested that the message in his hand was indeed one Alex might be interested in.

"Pretty sure you were eavesdropping well enough," the man answered. "And the name's "Andrew," or "Mr. Knacker, "or "sir "if you really want any answers from me. Seems you are in need of quite a bit of help my friend."

"I am indeed," Alex agreed readily. Andrew had the occasional tendency to become quite obstinate when he felt disrespected. If that message in his hand might be the very thing Alex hoped for most of all he was willing to do whatever it took to please the man.

"Don't make me beg Andrew," Alex said, his eyes pleading. "The man at the door said he rode from Fenwick. That a message for me?" Alex felt his heart beat quicken as he stared at Knacker trying to read his response in the man's face. Andrew let his mouth curve into a smug smile.

"Why?" Andrew asked. "You expecting something?"

Alex's eyes focused more intently on the note, Andrew's tone telling him all he needed to know. The message was for him. It had to be.

"And if I did have a delivery for you," Andrew speculated. "Been a long time since you paid me for services rendered. Should have been the first thing you did walking through that door. Instead you came asking for more favors? Doesn't exactly put me in the giving mood."

By the God he was irritating. Still, Alex held his temper. Andrew was just having a bit of fun, though his taunting was excruciating. The man didn't realize this was a matter of life and death. He watched as Andrew leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying Alex's desperation.

"Then it's money you want?" Alex asked. "Whatever I owe you, I swear to pay it back Andy. I'll give you double. Triple. You know I can pay."

"Really?" Andrew asked, raising a skeptical brow. "I imagine it hasn't been easy gaining any sort of donations to your cause these days. Nobility is terrified the King might suspect impropriety from any missing funds."

"I don't need em," Alex answered calmly, though he knew Andrew was right. But if Fiona had decided to help his cause, there was still hope the Vox Populi might recover. She could use her standing with the King to help him in his efforts to infiltrate the palace. Provide him with enough information to convince his allies he still had eyes within the royal city.

"So you gonna fund this entire revolution from your own pocket then?" Andrew scoffed in a clear attempt to call Alex's bluff.

"If I have to," Alex answered irritably, his patience beginning to waver. He would spend every penny he had if that's what it took.

"Alright, then, "Andrew answered. "Let's say I believe you will pay back the debt you already owe, with interest. And let's say I do have a message for you. What'll you give me exactly for this here envelope?" he held up the paper tauntingly.

Alex reached into his coat and took out the purse he carried without a second thought. It was most of what he had left in discretionary funds, but he needed that message, no matter the cost.

Andrew put the envelope down, though out of reach, before leaning across the desk to retrieve Alex's small sack and opening it slowly. Seeing its contents the man gave a small whistle of surprise before looking back to Alex, a slight frown on his face.

"This is quite a bit of money, my friend," he commented. "Can't imagine you got much more than this left to spare."

Alex held his gaze unfazed. Was the man really going to make him grovel!

"I need that message, Andrew," Alex said, attempting to keep the sound of desperation from his voice.

The man stared at him a moment longer, biting his lower lip in thought. He sighed, pushing the money back towards Alex.

"Keep it," he said. " I suspect you need it more than I at the moment."

Alex looked down at the money in confusion and despair. "Andrew," he protested. "Please listen. I have to have that..." he stared at the man desperately. "Damn it Andrew. What do you want from me?"

But before Alex could protest any further Andrew stopped his words, sliding the small envelope across the desk as well.

"Consider it my one and only act of charity towards your cause," he said. Andrew laughed as Alex stared at him in disbelief.

"Awe common Alex," he said. "You know I've always liked ya. Your father was a good man and I think of you like some sort of kid brother. I don't want you to starve all on account of one little note. Besides, let's just say the King isn't in my good graces at the moment. Had a couple of my best clients loose their heads in the last few weeks. Owed me money too and it seems like Dresden Rearder has already confiscated their estates. You caught me on a day I'm feeling a bit more inclined to support the rebellion."

Alex nodded as he closed the purse and replaced it in his coat pocket, still surprised by Andrew's sudden showing of generosity.

"Well?" Andrew asked. "Aren't ya gonna open that God damn envelope and see if it was worth the fortune you were prepared to pay for it?" He raised the corner of his lip in a half smile.

Alex felt his skepticism relax slightly as he nodded, returning Andrew's grin with one of his own. He took his knife from his belt, trying to keep his hand from shaking as he prepared to slide the blade beneath the seal. It was from her. He was certain of it. But what if this message was one that ended all of his hopes. What if she truly had decided to support Henry and abandon him for good and this was a final farewell?

 He felt sick at the thought of it. To never see her face again. To never hear her sharp retorts. To imagine Fiona at the King's side. To lose her completely. The idea of such a loss felt as unbearable as any other he had ever faced.

"Give that to me man," Andrew said, grabbing the letter from Alex's hand before he could protest, artlessly tearing the seal before passing the opened paper back to him. "Now what the hell does it say?"

Alex held his breath as he picked up the message. The writing on the page was messy. An attempt to disguise the hand, but he knew it was hers. The big scrawling characters not quite successful in masking her true identity. Only three words.

I WILL FIGHT

F.

"Well?" Andrew prompted.

Alex didn't answer as he continued to scan the note over and over again, scarcely daring to believe his eyes.

"Alex?"

Alex looked up at Andrew, a smile stretching across his face. "It isn't over yet Andy," he said. "The rebellion lives."

So there you have it. It seems Fiona has officially decided to aid the rebellion. But what that means exactly remains to be seen. Would love to know what you thought of the chapter. How do you feel about Alexander Harrison after this chapter? About his thoughts on Fiona? I wonder too what people think of the bit of backstory/flashback. Is it interesting? 

Still working on fixing the middle part of the book (it needs the most work) and as a result have not yet been able to get to a place where i can release multiple chapters in a week. I will btw. The end of the book is far more polished. Just have to clean up the middle to fix inaccuracies caused by changes I've made in the previous chapters. If you spot any...LET ME KNOW! hehe. Next chapter will take us back to Tern's POV. When last we met him he was planning to host a large party. All I can say is that what happens at that event is pretty important for the next piece of the story... As always, thanks for reading, and if you have comments/critique, feel free to leave em:-) And if you liked the chapter...dont forget to click the star <3