Weight of the World

Chapter Fifty-Nine

—Tregaar—

He was, by no means, a patient man. When he wanted something, he got it, no hesitation or questions asked, but there was no rushing what he wanted now, and so, Regis had no choice but to wait. But he would not do what Raler was doing, sitting at a bedside and fretting. It would do nothing, and so, Regis found himself back at his office, sitting at his desk and staring at the intelligence reports that had begun to file in. But he had read the same sentence three times. Regis closed his eyes, a deep sigh escaping him.

The moment Rhenna had doubled over and begun to moan in pain, Regis had known what was happening. She had stepped in front of him to take a fatal blow meant for him. Khalid's blade had pierced her abdomen. He wouldn't forget the way Hadrius had screamed his sister's name. Khalid had pulled the dagger free, shock evident on his face. He hadn't expected her to save Regis' life, again. In truth, Regis hadn't been expecting it either, and so, Regis didn't think twice. He just raised his gun, his last shot hitting Khalid straight in the temple.

When he realized she had been poisoned, Regis hadn't felt a twinge of guilt, exactly. This night had—more or less—accomplished his objectives, and though Rhenna Tor'Varyan's death was regrettable and unfortunate, he didn't have a personal stake in her life. He couldn't do anything for her except try to make her comfortable in the end. Not really for her sake, but for Hadrius, and so, he had been about to call for one of their helicopters to airlift her to the nearest hospital. But then, Hadrius too dropped to his knees, his wounds beginning to burn. Regis knew then that all of Eclipse's weapons had been laced with poison and only luck had spared him from getting nicked.

At the hospital, the news had quickly turned worse. Not just any poison. Something old and rare and impossible to cure. Regis had almost wished he hadn't killed Khalid yet. His first thought was to call the palace scholars in the hopes that they knew something of this poison and had a remedy.

What Regis wanted, he got.

Through sheer luck, the scholar he spoke to knew exactly what Magister's Blight was and informed him that they did, in fact, have a cure, but only one. There hadn't been a question of what he would do. The antidote arrived and without hesitation, Regis ordered the doctors to give it to Hadrius.

Raler had tried to dissuade him, tried to argue that Rhenna should be saved instead, but in the end, Regis couldn't be swayed. Hadrius was useful. He was loyal. And it would take him too long to find a suitable replacement, especially one he could trust as implicitly as he trusted Hadrius. Raler was his friend, and he knew Rhenna's death would affect his Silencer, but his decision was strictly business.

And the weight lifting from his shoulders when Hadrius' breathing had begun to steady was in response to knowing he would be spared the headache of searching for a new bodyguard, not relief. It couldn't be relief.

It was business. Nothing more. He had never cared for even one of his previous lovers. There was no reason for that to change now. But despite Regis' attempt to continue working while he waited for news on Hadrius' condition, he hadn't actually accomplished anything, his mind conjuring, instead, unwanted memories of their time together.

Hadrius on his knees before him, obeying so readily to his every request. The confusion in his gaze every time he received a gift. The sound of his laughter when Regis had unwillingly shared a joke Raler had once told him. The way Hadrius would remain somewhere nearby even when he was meant to be on break. The gentle reminders that it was getting late, and Regis needed to sleep. The heavy but welcome weight pressed against his side when he woke up the morning after his injury.