Bereft: Demise

42 | Of Reasons to Live and Die

Time passed. Hours became days, and the days compiled into a week. Prior to his leaving, I hadn't seen much of Darius around Crow's End, but I'd been aware of his presence. It'd been a constant pressure, not unlike a hand at my back nudging me in the right direction. His absence wasn't keenly noticeable, but I sensed it. It yawned in the peripheries like a chasm where the winds echoed and died.

Darius was beyond my help. He was somewhere outside the ward with his deranged brother and Balthier. He'd been gone for a week and I hadn't heard a word from him.

I knew I should have bought him a damn cell phone back in Verweald.

Frowning, I rolled over and buried my head underneath the pillow. Despite it being well past dawn, I had no drive to get out of bed. I hadn't for nearly a week. I didn't eat breakfast with the wolves. I didn't study with Cage. I didn't see the Vytians.

I was tired. Just so very tired.

"Gaspard."

I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended to ignore Amoroth's voice. I hadn't heard her come in, but the woman was fully capable of bypassing locked doors.

"Gaspard, get up."

"Go. Away," I grumbled without moving. "Why are you even in here?"

"Peroth is tired of you moping and refusing meals." Exasperated, the woman kicked the side of the mattress and made the entire bedframe shake. "Get up. I am not your butler or Peroth's servant. I won't tell you again."

I unearthed my arm from beneath the blanket and gave the Sin a decidedly unfriendly hand gesture.

"Have it your way." 

I was convinced Amoroth would finally leave me to my wretched state—when the bed suddenly lifted and turned. I yelped when I slid off the inverted mattress and landed in a pile by the nightstand, the pillow falling into my face with an ungainly flop.

Amoroth dropped the bed frame and brushed off her hands. "Christ, clean this room. I'm covered in dust." 

I coughed on the dust she was griping about as I extricated myself from the twisted sheets. I tested the bandages against my side and was relieved to find no blood on my fingertips. "You do realize I'm injured?!" I shouted at the smirking Sin looming at the other side of the bedroom.

"You do realize it could be much worse?" she mocked as she tucked an errant curl back into her chignon. "Honestly, Pride must have weighed the option of living with your bitching against being chased by Balthier and decided the latter was the easier choice."

Her glib remark cut across the raw wound of Darius's departure, but I didn't rise to her bait. "I told you to go away."

Amoroth made a show of stepping to the opposing side of the bedroom's threshold, one of her manicured brows risen in challenge. "Peroth wanted to speak with you."

I huffed and levered myself upright. "So?" 

"So it would be in your best interest to appease the man providing you with asylum."

Irritated as I was, I knew Amoroth was right. If anything, Darius would expect me to be cordial to Sloth and I didn't wish to offend the man. He didn't deserve my disrespect.

"Fine," I replied, glancing down at my rumpled pajamas. "I'll go speak with him. Get out so I can get dressed."

Her message delivered, the Sin of Lust disappeared with a final disapproving tut. She was already gone and I was half undressed when I realized I hadn't asked her where Peroth was. His morning routine was utterly unpredictable. The Sin could be anywhere.