Glass of Revenge

~11~

Dorian scowled to himself as he strode through the streets of Rifthold. At that moment, he wondered how things had gotten so bad. He wondered how the world had gotten so bad, so soon after the war. He had been meant to rise Adarlan up above his father's crimes – to make it great again.

But Dorian no longer knew what to do. His control over his kingdom had slipped through his fingers over the last few months, and he had no idea how it had happened. His people were no longer willing to swear allegiance to him, anger and outrage in the other kingdoms was growing. And if the other kingdoms began to move on him, on Aelin's behalf, which was almost inevitable, he would hardly be able to defend his kingdom, what with the dissent that was brewing in the military.

In fact, each day Dorian had the growing sensation that the military was leaning toward taking orders from someone else.

In a way that was why Dorian was currently prowling the streets of Rifthold. As he could presently trace all of his current misfortune back to a single person, that also meant that the same single person also had the power to restore to him his previous blessed luck.

But the problem was that Dorian didn't know where he was meant to be going. In all the time he had known Aelin, she had never once told him the exact location of the Assassin's Guild. He didn't know whether it was due to shame of her past or due to something far darker. For all he knew she'd probably decided that it wasn't knowledge that the Crown Prince of Adarlan should have in his arsenal. Quite ironic really, considering who Aelin had turned out to be.

But what killed him was the fact that he had never bothered to ask her. Despite having a major crush on Aelin during that ridiculous competition, he had never bothered to learn much about her. He just hadn't wanted to know.

Dorian had always believed Aelin when she said that the past didn't matter. That it was what you did in present – in the future – that mattered. In the end it was what you did to atone for the sins of your past that mattered.

Yes, Aelin had a shady past, but in the end, what she would be forever remembered for was unifying the world in the pursuit of defeating evil. But what would he, Dorian, be remembered for? What was to be his legacy? Was Dorian only destined to be the idiotic king who continued his father's evilly demonic work and let his kingdom fall to a foreign woman with a vengeance?

And if that was the case, what the hell was he doing, searching out the streets of his city for said foreign, vengeful woman? Did he honestly have a death wish? If Dorian had any sense left, he would have been able to see that what he was doing was beyond reason. If only Dorian would listen to sense, he would have realised that what he was doing now was sure-fire way to bring his kingdom to its knees. A sure-fire way to bring about the destruction of his kingdom.

But Dorian was unable to see it that way. At the moment he only saw Lyria as the woman who could help him secure his position on the throne. He had once thought that Aelin would be the one to support his claim to the Adarlanian throne, but Aelin had grown distant and uncommunicative over the last several months. At some level, Dorian knew that Aelin had her own kingdom to govern, and her own life, but the cold silence hurt more than he had expected it would. He missed the warm friendship he had once shared with Aelin more than he could possibly say.

Dorian scowled once more at the thought of the Queen of Terrasen. If she had only done more to dispel and control the threats being made against her and her husband, then he, Dorian, would not be in this situation, wandering lost through the streets of his own damn city. If only she had taken control of the situation – of the threats being made against her and her family – than his kingdom, Adarlan, would not be currently facing wreck ruin. Utter destruction and utter annihilation.