XXVII

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(Comment mfs. This is the second last chapter)

"Quite the warrior you've become, your majesty." Louis opts to hum with resting eyes, the air extremely cold and he is certain his limbs are turning the shade of venom. A moment floats where they allow the wind to speak before Seilri speaks again, "You haven't found peace, have ya?"

"Have you?" Louis retaliates, sensing Seilri sitting beside him.

"I haven't." She answers in a heartbeat, though Louis knows well that is the last thing she can experience. "I am apologetic, you know." He looks at her from the corner of his eyes, her face just as pale as his yesterday. "I almost did not wish to do it at some part, not when I would catch him talking to the pup."

In the silence of the woodland, Louis hears his heart shatter again, and again, and again.

"Then, why did you?" He croaks. Seilri stiffens, her lifeless eyes searching Louis' face. Why did she do it if she had even an inch of a doubt? Why is she saying this now? Only to kill Louis again? Give him a taste of the chance he had with Harry, and remind him of the fact that he shall never truly have it.

"You are too naive for someone who holds such power." She riddles, now staring straight into the vast cold, darkness covering every portion of the sky. "You still aren't aware, are you?"

"Would I be here, in the presence of the murderer of my mate, if I was aware of whatever it is that you are hinting at?" He gulps, blinking his eyes to get rid of the tears. "Just say it. What can be worse than what you did to me?"

"Be careful there," she laughs, standing up. "I shall tell you someday, but today is for your bodily wounds to heal. Can't have you dying of a heartbreak."

"Wait!" He pays no mind to the ache that sears all over him, pushing himself onto his feet to stop the undead. Seilri halts, nothing visible in the dark but her glowing eyes of death. "You cannot do this to me. I have done nothing to you, nothing, yet you have taken all that I ever had. All I am asking for is the truth. Do tell me, please."

"I am no saint, my king. I shall see you where there is salt in the air. Heal until then..... your heart too." And she is gone like a swift wind, leaving Louis with a screaming mind. He can hear the distant shouts of his name as he stands frozen, looking at nothing but the emptiness ahead of him, correlating it with his insides. What was it that he was not aware of?

But as the burning torches begin to float at a distance, a cluster of panicked calls, he realises that no matter what the truth is, it still won't bring him his Harry.

"Have the Weheldrum's grains arrived at the port?" Louis asks with distaste on his tongue, wanting to be anywhere but at the table, surrounded by his ministers and advisors, all of whom Louis has murdered at least thrice in his mind with a mere butter knife. But he fixes a mask of morphed pleasantry, listening to whatever the men have to say.

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