Page 95 of The Death King
Talon watched him, and his eyes remained on the sky long after he was gone—like he was listening. And then he looked right at me.
I knew Khazmuda had just told him about our conversation.
I felt guilty for angering Talon last night, but that anger had evaporated in light of that conversation. Now, I was angry again, hearing someone justify doing bad things for the right reasons when it suited them.
I turned away and sat on one of the logs, my stomach hungry for breakfast but my pride too strong to admit it. I didn’t know how to hunt, so the only food I received was whatever Talon and Khazmuda provided.
Talon sat on the other log a moment later, directly across from me, with the fire between us. He stared at me through the flames before his gaze shifted away. He seemed lost in thought, his consternation heavy. Then he broke the silence with his deep voice. “You’re right.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, the chill seeping through my clothes and penetrating my skin.
“Arid Sands diggers will now be paid volunteers. No more prisoners.”
I stared at the fire.
“Rape will be illegal throughout these lands. Any soldier who breaks this law will be put to death. Any soldier who reports the crimes of another will be handsomely rewarded.”
I kept my eyes on the flames.
“I thought this would please you.”
I raised my gaze and looked at him. “You should do it because it’s the right thing to do—not to please me.”
“It is the right thing to do, but you’ve helped me see that.”
“It wasn’t hard to see in the first place.”
His eyes gave a hint of anger. “I don’t expect gratitude, but I don’t expect anger either?—”
“It doesn’t take back the time I lost. It doesn’t take back my innocence. There’s nothing you could ever do to right those wrongs. So yes, I’ll always be angry.”
He stared at me, his eyes hard and unblinking.
“I respect you more as an unapologetic villain who takes what he wants with no regard for anyone else than someone who believes they’re a hero.”
“I don’t think that…trust me.”
I stared at the fire again.
“I’ve justified the terrible things I’ve done because they were done to me first.”
My eyes lifted once again. The world was suddenly mute. The fire didn’t make a sound.
“The body can only tolerate so much before it shuts down. I shut down a long time ago—and haven’t felt a damn thing since. I lack empathy. I lack understanding. I will use everyone and anyone for my own gains—just as I was used.”
“Tell me what happened to you.” I knew it was coming. Could feel the dawn chase dusk. Could feel summer cool to fall.
His eyes stayed on the fire for a long time. “It’s a long and harrowing tale…”
“I’ll hang on to every word, no matter how long it is.”
Silence passed as he stared at the fire. Seconds turned to minutes. His expression was devoid of emotion as he gathered his thoughts. “I come from a long line of honorable kings—and my father was the most honorable of all. He ruled the Southern Isles with both power and empathy. The people loved him because his rulings were always fair and just. If he sentenced a man to death, he did the beheading himself. I admired him so much that it was an honor to stand in his shadow.” He turned quiet, his eyes not blinking, his gaze locked on the fire. “My home is different from how it is here. Vibrant and warm, never hot like the Arid Sands and never cold like the castle I now call home. I’ve made love to women in the sand as the sun set over the waves. I’ve walked through the vineyards and ate grapes straight off the vine. I’ve seen flowers bloom all year. It’s a place so beautiful, I wish I didn’t remember it…because I’m afraid it’ll never be mine again…”
He trailed off once again, unable to make eye contact with me. “This is where the story gets complicated. According to legend, my great-grandfather had two sons. The oldest is my grandfather, and the younger brother is a great-uncle. My grandfather had fallen deadly ill one summer night and collapsed at a feast. He was taken to his chambers, and his skin was so pale that the doctor said he wouldn’t survive. It was declared that my great-uncle would become king once my great-grandfather had passed since he had no other sons to inherit the throne. But my great-grandfather journeyed to the free dragons and begged for their magic to save his son. After much deliberation, the dragons agreed—and that was the first fuse.”
I had questions, but I knew better than to ask them.
“My grandfather fused with the dragon, and his life was spared. He fully recovered, and once my great-grandfather passed, he ascended to the throne. But my great-uncle was vehemently displeased by this. Believed the throne should belong to him and his heirs because my grandfather didn’t survive by his own means. The resentment and entitlement have passed through the generations, creating a quiet hostility that’s lingered into permanence. My father, an inherent optimist, extended more olive branches than I can count, always tried to deepen those relationships rather than let them fall apart completely. He chose to see the good in people, which made him a great king, but that also made him blind to truth…which made him a bad one.”