The Infernal King | 1 ✓

CHAPTER XX | SEEKING ANSWERS

       A MYRIAD OF questions prickled the back of Maarit's throat, nearly forcing their way onto her tongue as she walked alongside the warlock. She waited, agitated and acutely aware of the fact that Theodoracius was watching her leave. Her thoughts were completely muddled and she swayed ever so slightly on her feet, as though the ground beneath them had just quaked.

Pondering after pondering filled her head to the brim. She felt the sensation of her brain pressing against her skull. As she turned a corner with Picard, she slowed her pace and placed her hand on the wall to steady herself. Her fingers brushed against the frame of a painting and she immediately retracted them. Her knees, meanwhile, wobbled with apprehension.

"Picard!" she whispered to the warlock, bringing him to an abrupt halt. He turned around, coming to the realization that she was no longer following closely behind him. Curiosity pulled his eyebrows together until Maarit spoke. "I won't follow you until you give me some answers. What is he talking about? What did he mean by everything that he just said?"

Picard ran an alabaster-skinned hand over his close-cropped dark hair. His chest visibly heaved, as though he was being constricted by his clothing. "His Majesty just enjoys being dramatic," he stated, interlocking his fingers in front of him. "I can confirm with absolute certainty that he meant absolutely nothing by what he said. Now come along, he wishes for you to see the rest of the castle. It is quite a sight worth seeing; notably, the ballroom and the view of the—"

"No, just—stop," Maarit said, shaking her head at him convulsively, dark tendrils of hair lapping at the sides of her face. "Why can't anyone around here give me a straight answer?" Her eyes bore into his and he squirmed uncomfortably under her scrutiny. "Picard, please don't do this to me. I should not be kept in the dark. I know that you know something."

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "I... am not entirely sure what it is that you want me to tell you..."

"Everything around here is just... strange," Maarit insisted. "Why are you even here? Why do you voluntarily serve him? How did you come to be a servant in the first place, especially when you're a warlock and can fend for yourself? Why do you not just walk through the castle doors, leave Bonvalet and never come back?"

He sighed, licking his lips. Maarit noticed sadness flicker in his eyes for a fraction of a second, but the spark never became a flame. When he spoke, his voice was so low and monotone that Maarit had to lean in to catch every word.

"Madam, I owe my life to this family," he murmured, his head bowed. "I am in eternal debt to them."

"Wait—wait, see? This is precisely what I meant. I cannot get a straight, direct answer from anyone. Are you indebted to King Theodoracius?" she scoffed disbelievingly, wondering what he could possibly have done to help the warlock he so often overworked and mistreated.

"No," Picard said without missing a beat, "not to him."

"To King Tevenot, then?"

He pursed his lips and said nothing, but his inky, enigmatic eyes gave it away.

"It seems I'm still failing to fully understand," Maarit said, crossing her arms over her chest. "If you truly were indebted to King Tevenot, what would that have to do with his son? Especially when said son murdered in cold blood the very man you were indebted to..."