Fate and Destiny (The Fated Series, #2)

Chapter 64 - Darius - It Begins

"Darius? Darius!"
"What?" I look up, finding Lance and Garrison looking down at me with furrowed brows.
I zoned out again.
It's been happening a lot recently. People will be talking, either to me or amongst themselves, and my mind will just go blank. It's not the whole zoning out where I start thinking about other things and get distracted, but the one where there's literally nothing. I just tune everything out and stare blankly in front of me.
I know I've done it today more than before, likely because I saw Clarice. She was so...frail. Not as thin and sickly as she was a cycle ago, but she still looked ghostly. She felt ghostly. My power tugged towards her as it usually does, but that wasn't what had me standing so still. It was her eyes. They recognized me, yet at the same time, they never found me.
She wore clothes that she'd normally fill out perfectly in every way, and the coat she wore with the feather lining made her look regal despite the still thinness of her. I didn't want to look at her, just as I do not wish to think of her, and yet she was still there. She never said a word whilst we stood across from her in the hallways, but a part of me knows that it was best that she didn't. We all might've cracked had we heard it, heard the words we've only imagined hearing before. At least, they would've cracked, I'm already fucked up as is.
And yet you still feel spiderweb fractures slowly forming the longer you think about her, a voice says in my head.
"Darius." My eyes snap back up to Lance.
Shit. I did it again.
"Are you alright?" Garrison asks, reaching out a hand towards me as if to catch me if I fall out of my chair.
I hate this chair, hate the gold paint I've been picking at, hate the matching carved desk in front of me filled with papers. Reports, things that need signing, things that I need to decide, all piling up as the day goes on. This used to be my father's desk. He would sit in this chair and go through each pile while I would play with whatever toy I had found the most interesting that day. All these memories and Clarice doesn't even have one.
"Maybe we should have Tanith put him to sleep." My eyes shoot back up again, and I mentally stab myself for zoning out. Again.
"No, no. I'm fine. I'm fine," I insist when they both open their mouths to suggest otherwise. "What were you saying?"
"Lord Roland is waiting outside," Garrison answers slowly, still considering the Tanith option. "He wants to talk to you. About your father."
Right. My father. The father who left after crowning me King without a single instruction as to what the hell I'm supposed to be doing. I suppose my lack of understanding on the job is partially my fault, as I always chose to be menacing to learn the duties I'd inherit. Still, he left, gave Roland a letter that said my claim to the throne was legitimate and rightfully given, and disappeared again. Who knows when he'll resurface again - if he resurfaces again.
I glance at the clock on the mantel, reading it somewhere around six-thirty. Gods and their Saints it's been five hours sitting in this chair. I shift in my seat once, trying to find a position that doesn't make my butt feel hard as stone. "Send him in."
They both hesitate to move, and I rub at my temples until Garrison leaves to go get Roland.
"Darius-"
"I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine, heathens, you definitely don't look fine."
"Lance-"
"When are you going to let us in? Not confiding in me, I get it, I haven't known you as long as the others, but the Bhaltayr, Darius...they've known you most of your life. Locking everything within yourself will only destroy you further - I mean, look what it did to your father. You can't shut people out, not when you need them the most. Not when they need you the most. They're family, Darius, you don't push away family. Believe me when I say that having more family to help you through the rough times, is better than having no family to lean on."
I don't even get a second to think about his words before Garrison walks back in, Lord Roland now dressed in warmer clothing on his heels.
"My King," Roland greets, bowing at the waist. You'd think I'd be semi-used to the full bow everyone now gives me, but I'm not. I'm used to people only dipping their chins in my presence, and I didn't even like that. "Thank you for agreeing to see me."
"Please, sit, Lord Roland."
He sits down, Lance and Garrison standing at the ends of the desk. I highly doubt Lord Roland of all people is stupid enough to try and lunge for me, but I'm not in the mood to dismiss them. If I do, then I'll have to repeat all that is said to them later, and I'm in desperate need of my bed and a good night's rest.
"I assume you want to know all the details of your father's visit to my city?"
I nod, clearing my head before I zone out again.
"Well, it was on Vercurii, the first day of this month, that he showed up at the gates of my estate. I was awoken by one of my servants late in the night, and he told me that there was a man waiting for me in my office. He refused to give a name as well as remove his hood for my people to identify, but they let him because he had the King's seal. When I went down to meet with him, he wouldn't say a word until I dismissed everyone out of the house. That's when he revealed himself. He told me all he knew, and everything you've told him. After filling me in, he told me about his decision to relinquish his crown and pass it on to you. He made me swear in my loyalty to your family and then made me swear to bring his signed and sealed written word as confirmation that the crown is indeed yours. He made me swear many other things that night, and by the time we had finished speaking, it was dawn."
"What else did he make you swear?"
"To assist you in any way you need and ask for. To help guide you through the duties of a King - a great king. To ensure that the Court would either support you or be...dealt with."
"King Neven asked you to assassinate any of those within the Court who opposed Darius?" Garrison asks.
"It wasn't in his exact wording, but the implication was clear, yes. Worry not, seeing as you dealt with Julyanus quite nicely, I've kept my own men at my side. Not to mention that I'm sure your own assassins could very well do the job for you," he says with a pointed glance at Lance. There's no sign of hatred or resentment in his eyes, perhaps a little awe, however.
"So you are to essentially be my hand?"
"More so a...mentor. The choice of who is to have the title is still yours to decide."
"And as my mentor, who would you suggest I appoint the position?"
He doesn't answer right away, which only makes me more nervous as to what his answer will be. "Someone you trust. Someone you know will always have your best interest at heart, and someone you know for a fact you could very well trust to potentially run the kingdom in your absence, but at the same time, a person who would happily and easily relinquish said power the moment you returned. If you have no one like that here, then you have no one to appoint."
Trust. One of the many issues I am currently struggling to keep a grip on. No one in my confidence has betrayed me yet, so my trust issues aren't as damaged as Lance's or his sisters or the rest of their assassins for that matter. However, war makes you question things such as trust, and so I find myself in a dilemma once more.
I glance at Garrison, still keeping his eyes on the Lord. He's the head of my personal guard, it wouldn't be much of a surprise to make him my hand. The only issue is that he's as vulnerable as me when it comes to snuffing out his anger. I may not be physically expressive with it, but I know when others notice how quickly the wind starts moving or how suddenly it stops. Garrison has never been one for politics either, but I know he'd be happy to suffer its ordeals for my sake. Him, I can trust without second-guessing it, but I'm not going to be selfish and put him in a position of misery or weariness.
Another glance at Lance, and I already know my answer to the idea of him as my hand. Thralia will need a ruler, and when it comes down to it, it's going to be Clarice who takes up that throne. Lance will follow, especially since having already lost her in recent days he's not going to want to leave her side ever again. I won't take that from him, I won't be the cause of his own dilemmas in the future of having to choose between me and his sister, though to be honest, we all know I was never really competition.
Everyone else I trust has purposes of their own. Kat will undoubtedly follow Lance, Siscilla is the Anevay, Aillard is a Thralian who will want to return to his homeland, the Ginerva are bound to Thralia, Thomas isn't built for the position, Aracely would much rather suffer a beating than deal with the Court, - she said that earlier - and despite his claims and oaths to my father, Lord Roland doesn't have my entire trust for me to give the position to him.
"The decision doesn't have to be made now," Roland says, noticing my conflicted expression. "In fact, many people of the kingdom likely wouldn't notice if you don't have a hand."
At least I can rest easy on the case, and I gained a mentor and still have the advice of people I trust. There's still something that bothers me though. "Why would my father go to you? Why go west to Lander?"
His expression turns melancholy, but he picks it out quickly and goes neutral. "Your father and I...we used to be friends - more than friends. Brothers who needed no blood relation to call each other such."
"What happened?" Lance asks.
"The only thing that could ever turn two men on each other. A girl."
"My mother?" I guess.
"No. The cousin of your mother. Long story short, we met her at a ball. We both fell for her, and we fought day and night to win her favor. We joked with stabs to each other's pride, but soon those jokes became actual insults. We wanted her to choose. Future King, or future Lord."
"She chose you...?" Garrison asks though he's likely just as confused as I am. My mother didn't have a cousin who was a Lady.
"No, she never got the chance to make her choice. She died. She and a few other maidens of the noble families were having a picnic in the elephant grass fields. Neven and I were attending a meeting with the Court when a runner came in and said that they were being attacked. By the time any reinforcements arrived, before we could arrive, they were all dead. Including Caroline."
I ransack my brain for the name, but I find nothing. My mother's not one to talk much about her family, let alone those who have passed. "Who killed them?"
"Assassins, sent by someone who knew exactly how to cover their tracks and tie up their loose ends. We never found out who, though if the Jade Assassins had already been established, I would've paid a pretty penny to have you find out for me," he tells Lance.
"I'm sure we could still find the cracks in the armor," Lance smirks. "After the hell-bent future ahead of us, of course."
Roland smiles contently to himself, but you can see that there's a part of him that doesn't think Lance and the Jades can find anything. "I should be going, I promised Lady Evangeline an evening."
"Another one?" We all look at Lance in surprise. Clearly, he's been keeping information from me, and I'm not necessarily happy about it. Though I'll admit, the surprise is rather pleasing.
"I should've known better than to think I could keep secrets in a castle full of spies," Roland sighs, running at his forehead.
"The castle has always been full of spies, my ears are just better, and you weren't necessarily hiding your whereabouts."
"I would've used the old tunnels, but Neven mentioned your knowledge of them, so..."
"So you and Lady Evangeline..."
"Should I plan for a wedding after this war, my Lord?" I tease lightly, a small smile tugging at my lips. A wedding after all of this hell doesn't sound so bad.
He shakes his head. "It's not like that."
"You didn't return to your rooms until this morning," Lance points out.
Roland tries to explain. Emphasis on the word tries. In the end, he settles deeper into his chair. "Not that it's any business of yours, but Evangeline has made it clear that she wishes no future for the two of us."
"Why not?"
"She has her reasons, and I...I care for her too much to deny her her choice," he states without an ounce of sadness.
"And yet she asks that you stay the night in her rooms," I lead on.
"I know it's hard to understand, but despite her ultimate choice she can't so easily rid of the feelings she has. No one could ever do such a thing, not without clawing their own heart out."
"Some may beg to differ."
His eyes focus harder on me, and I know what he sees. The boy he once knew, optimistic and rebellious and a menace, he doesn't see him. He sees someone else, someone who would beg to differ.
"Is this about Evangeline or your Lily?" I feel myself flinch at the name, feel Lance and Garrison watch me closely through the corner of their eyes. It's the only emotion that's ever there, a flinch, an ache, a small prick of a person that was once my entirety.
Gods I'm depressed to the point that I'm annoying myself.
"Forgive me, I don't know her by any other name."
"Clarice," Lance answers quietly, glancing over at me as if expecting a flame to spark to life any moment. "Another alias, but a better one to use."
I feel Roland look back at me, but I've averted my eyes back down to the papers on my desk. I'm no master in love or the beginnings of it, I'm too young to understand or even begin to understand what love is and means. I say I love her, I said I felt a strong feeling I could only label as love, but how do I know it's love? How can I be sure? How do I know that what I felt will still be there when she remembers?
"Darius." Slowly, I meet Roland's gaze once more. "I cannot give you advice if I do not know what I'm supposed to give you advice on."
This could be a trick to get me to fess up as to why Clarice hasn't been seen. Gods know the Court is sneaky in their ways of getting information. Whereas the assassins use torture, the Court uses deception. They feign sympathy and concern, but really they're just looking for a way to pull a coup. But what would this knowledge do? It's bound to get around sooner or later and considering she's already been seen today, I wouldn't put it past people to have already started spreading rumors.
Either way, I'm lost. I need an unbiased look on the matter, and every time I look at my friends, I can see their yearns and pleas. They want me to go to her, even if they're scared as to what to do when they see her themselves. Both Garrison and Lance look at me now, waiting for me to make a decision, but I don't return their stares. If I do, then I'll see nothing but their own pleas in their eyes, and that makes everything worse.
I look back to Roland. "The man who attacked the castle, his name is Xaxias. He tortured Clarice, much to your knowledge, but that wasn't all he did. He took her memories. Everyone and everything from her past, she doesn't remember."
He nods slowly but gives no reaction aside from that. "Thankful as I am to you for trusting me with that information, and swear it on my life that I won't tell a soul, but something tells me that that is not necessarily an issue you need my advice on."
Once again I hesitate, not necessarily zoning out, but still letting my thoughts shoot about. I haven't admitted this to anyone yet, which makes this so much worse than I care to admit. Something tells me that Garrison and Lance already know anyway, so I don't know why I'm entirely holding back. I'm still horrible at keeping a neutral face.
"I don't...I can't...I can't feel like I used to. Emotions escape me now. Joy is something I have to dig to find in order to smile, sadness is a thing that plagues me so much I can't even tell if it's there or not. Anger is the most prominent thing I feel and even that's only at certain moments. It holds longer and hits me more strongly than the others. It started after...it got worse when we got her back."
He doesn't respond, barely even reacting aside from the slight narrowing of his eyes. He's still waiting, just like me. I know in my mind what I want to ask, I know what I want to know and what I want to hear. My mouth, however, can't seem to form words.
Fear. I'm not saying anything out of fear. Normally when you feel scared you can identify it right away. The tightening of your chest, the quickness of your breathing, the sweat gathering on your brow and palms. Now it's like I have to search for it, dig deep into myself until my mind recognizes what it is that's happening. I'm scared, yes because I don't want to be told that what I feel isn't strong, or at least what I did feel and hopefully will feel again. I question it daily, question it when it shouldn't be questioned.
All I have is doubt and fear and no one to tell me if it's okay, or if it'll slowly consume me to the point of killing me slowly. It's pain yet it's bliss. It's drowning, but floating in the sunlight. It's breathing so easily that you forget all the horrible things and simply spread your arms wide to take in the warmth of the world. I can describe it, but I can't feel it, and that's the most frightening thing of all.
"Why don't you two wait outside the door," I hear Roland say. Lance and Garrison slowly leave the room, and a moment later the Lord and I are alone in silence. "Spit it out, Darius."
I hate how easily my mouth works now. I hate that he knew that I didn't want to say anything in front of friends, in front of the people who have been silently begging me to speak. "Do you love her? Evangeline."
He gives me a look telling me that he knows it's not the question I really want to be answered, but he answers nonetheless. "More than I initially thought I would."
"And what of Caroline and your wife?"
"Love is a...vulnerable thing. Despite beliefs and whatever bonds the Gods place between two people, there is never such a thing as one true love. I thought there was when I saw Caroline, thought that I'd never again feel such pain and grief as I did when she died, but then I met Milla, and I found myself once more ensnared by the choking emotion. I fell for her more slowly than I did with Caroline. It took a year before I realized my feelings for her were becoming something more. After that, it didn't take long before I put a ring on her finger. And now I find that the friendship Eve and I had built since we were young is...something other - in a good way."
"But how do you know? How did you know that what you felt for Caroline was love?"
"I didn't, not until I lost her. I mean, sure, your father and I took one look at her and thought she was the most beautiful person in the kingdom, but what teenage boys aren't puffing out their chests to lay with such serene people? I lost Caroline, felt my heart cleave in two, maybe more pieces, and I can never get what I felt for her back. I've fallen in love three times Darius, and all three have different colors to the love I've felt for them, colors I'll never feel the same way again, but that's okay."
"Yeah, but - I..." Gods be damned why is it so hard to ask the question?
"You want to know if what you're feeling is love, or if it's something else." He smiles at my likely hopeful expression. It's hard to tell since I have no mirror and am too mentally tired to control my face. "I cannot tell you, Darius. Love feels different for every person. Milla and I used to talk about it. My love for her was like an eternal flame. Never could it be extinguished, and only would it burn those who sought to put it out. Her love for me, as she described, was like the sun. It warmed her skin until it reached her heart, and no matter what darkness came, she could always count on it to rise come morning.
"You are the only one who can know if what you feel is love or not, Darius, but if I'm being entirely plain, I'd say you're in the thickest of it."
I blink at him, entirely confused as to how all of this could be the thickest of love. It doesn't feel like it.
"Months ago when I first came here to the castle with Eleanor, and you and Clarice were pretending to be in love, it was...hard to tell. Eleanor would continuously bicker about you two, always calling the touching and looks a lie, but I've been in love twice before Evangeline, so I know a thing or two about what it looks like to be unmistakeably infatuated with someone. Even then you two screamed the word love, and I'll bet my money that if you two were in the same room, despite what she may or may not remember, that scream would still be a battle cry."
Because even though I distance myself from her, I'm still fighting for her. I'll always fight for her, and maybe that's a sign of love, or maybe it's a sign of obsession or mother hen protectiveness over a killing machine damsel who doesn't need a Prince in her story to rescue her. Maybe it's just the result of everything I feel and all the stress and fear gathering around me as the days go by and we wait for an attack.
Maybe it's this, maybe it's that. Maybe I'll never know what it is, but I know it's strong, and I know it's roaring like the last dragon chained far beneath the earth that simply wants to be let out to fly.
Lord Roland stand, and I snap my eyes to his hoping he'll give me something more to go on. "Think about what I've said to you for an hour or two, and after that, let your mind wander. Don't fight where it wants to go or who it wants to think about, just...set it free. Then, as you lay in your bed to fall asleep, count how many times you thought of her. If the answer is once, then you love her, and you should go to her and never leave her side."
"Why once? Why wouldn't love be thinking of a person multiple times?"
"Love means that you never truly stop thinking about them. They enter your mind, imprint their touch, taste, and feel onto your heart, and then they never leave. No matter where they go, what they remembers, or who they become, your love for them never leaves. It's always there, even in death. You think of them once, and then they're simply there forever."
He leaves without another word, and I'm left sitting in my office alone with nothing but my thoughts. I should call Lance and Garrison back in and get rid of this stack of papers, but...
I end up pushing the pile aside and sit back in my chair, resting my head against the back of it while I close my eyes, and I let my mind wander.