The Heir of the Fallen

Chapter 26

Horseman of Famine, Adelaide

The anticipation was bubbling inside her, yet Adelaide's brain could not devise a simple thing she wanted to say to her parents. Or Ms. Rose. Beelzebub had left her be, letting her know how to initiate the conversation with the living world when she was ready. All she was doing in the meantime was watching her parents stab at the food on their plate, mixing it around, sometimes taking a nibble purely for the fuel that food provided. This dinner they sat at provided no pleasure; that much was clear.

How would they react once Adelaide spoke to them? How much convincing would Adelaide have to do for them not to think they were going insane?

Was this even a good idea? She paused and stood from the chair. The chair started spinning so fast that it wobbled slightly. She watched her mom, her dad, and Ms. Rose. They all appeared to be mourning; she knew it was about her. Deep in her heart, she knew they would always be mourning her until the day they, too, passed and joined her on the other side. Was it wise now for her to interact with the living? Instead, should she embrace death and focus on 'living' her life now instead of looking back over her shoulder the whole time? Her parents could be alive another fifty years, and she knew from the experience of living in this realm that it could be like eons. Barely any time had passed since she died in the living world, yet she had been here for months now.

She had decided. She was going to let her parents be alone in their mourning. It was unfair to break their hearts again for her selfish gain. Tears brimmed her eyes as she stood, heading to leave the room to tell Beelzebub what she had decided.

But as she opened the door, he stood there, his arms open for her. She threw herself into him, burying herself into his chest. She sobbed into him, and he held her.

"Sometimes, it's best to leave our past alone," he said, ever so softly as he laid his chin on her head. "I just knew you had to figure that out for yourself."

Adelaide sat up, rubbing at her eyes before opening them slowly, yawning as she did so. Looking around, she recognized her rustic cottage decor and relaxed. She was in her own room, in her own bed. Until her eyes landed on the chair by her bedroom door. Beelzebub sat on the chair, his face leaning on his fist, hair cascading down his face as he slept. His elbow rested on one knee, and the other arm laid on her windowsill. How had she gotten to her home and her bed?

Instead of looking for answers, she got up, thankful she still had clothes on. It was the shirt she had worn under her jacket and the same pants she had worn yesterday. She slowly moved past Beelzebub so as not to wake him. She headed to her kitchen and put the teapot on. She figured she could at least make him some tea before waking him. She grabbed two large mugs that someone had to use both hands to grip, and their fingers still wouldn't touch.

There was something... different about how she was feeling now. She felt almost renewed as if her decision yesterday had weighed on her long before she was given a chance to talk to her family. She knew they would be okay and would see them when it was their turn to pass, which she hoped was not for a long time. Life was so fleeting, and they deserved to live long whole lives. Her parents were still relatively young, only having her in their early twenties, so they still had plenty of time.

A small groan echoed from her bedroom. Moments later, a disheveled Beelzebub stumbled into her kitchen, sitting at her small, two-seater dining room table. His hair was a mess. He wore a white shirt that hugged his biceps and dark slacks from yesterday's funeral. She couldn't help but stare at his arms for a second longer than she should have before going to the tea kettle on the stove as it started to whistle. Slowly pouring the steaming water into the mugs, she plopped a jasmine tea bag in each cup and walked over, careful not to spill as she sat across from Beelzebub, placing his mug in front of him. He moaned his thanks and stretched.