15. Karul

Sunlight pierces through the gap in the drapes like daggers in my skull. I wince, head throbbing as consciousness reluctantly returns. What the fuck is this?

I peel my eyes open and immediately have to squeeze them shut against the painful brightness. Ah, yes, the aftermath of last night"s revelry. I groan. My mouth is dry as sand. How much wine did I consume in my victorious stupor?

As awareness filters back, I become cognizant of a soft form pressed against my side. Her. I crack an eye open once more to see her still slumbering form.

Panic slices through my hazy mind. What occurred last night after I stumbled drunkenly up here? I look down, relief washing over me as I see we both remain clothed. No... I did not take her in this state.

Thank the gods for that small mercy.

Still, finding her here seeds doubt. Doubt I sought to avoid by drowning myself in wine and spectacle. Yet, with my vengeance achieved, I find myself adrift... listless, even. I should feel jubilant, but I'm left empty, directionless; the drink-fueled bravado of the darkness past deserts me in the harsh light of day, leaving only uncertainty and a pounding head and unable to bear the spinning thoughts.

With utmost caution, I slip out of bed, making sure not to wake her. This growing attachment unsettles me. I need time alone to regain my bearings and subdue these troublesome emotions.

All I know is we need to decide our path forward since we have fulfilled our contract.

I slide hastily from the bed, putting much-needed distance between us. Her nearness scorches, yet I cannot pull away, fully at least.

Agitated, I pace the room, the sound of my footsteps echoing off the walls: Curse this lingering allure! Have I not taken sufficient pleasure from her flesh?

My restless steps carry me to the balcony, where I grip the balustrade, glaring out at the cheerful dawn as if it mocks my inner turmoil. The throbbing in my head builds to a crescendo until my stomach violently rebels against last night"s gross overindulgence.

Doubling over, I retch helplessly over the edge, the remnants of the grand feast making a second unwelcome appearance.

Below in the garden, a gardener looks up at the unseemly commotion. Catching sight of my utter humiliation, he hastily stifles a laugh behind his hand.

I straighten up, wiping my mouth angrily with the back of my hand. Fixing the impertinent servant with a baleful glare, I yell down, "You find your lord"s distress amusing, sir?"

Fear flashes in the gardener"s eyes as he anxiously lowers his head. "A thousand apologies, my lord," he mumbles before beating a hasty retreat out of sight before I can recall his name or face.

The conquering prince, laid low by his own reckless hedonism for all to see. How far I have fallen from the soaring heights of my vengeance last night.

This wretched vulnerability is intolerable. I slump down against the balustrade, all the fight gone out of me. Now that my all-consuming purpose is extinguished, the thrill of triumph has curdled into despair.

Who am I without the flames of revenge that drove me for so long?

A hollow husk adrift on the bitter ashes of the past.

With a growl of frustration I turn back, crossing to the bed where she still slumbers. So serene, so perfect... I am captivated against my will. Clenching my fists, I force myself to turn away. I must resist these unwelcome stirrings.

Our contract no longer binds us to intimacy. "Keep your distance, witch," I mutter under my breath as I stalk to the door. "Foul temptress." But glancing back, my traitorous heart twinges to leave her.

Shaking my head angrily, I quit the room before foolish emotion sways me.

Some time alone will cure me of this temporary madness.

It must! I cannot afford such vulnerability, not when my purpose now lies in shattered ruins around me. I storm through my estate, finding fault with all I encounter. Nothing is right.

The servants scurry about anxiously, struggling to satisfy my whims. I overturn trays of food deemed not to my liking, demand entirely new garments on a whim, and reroute my chambers for optimal sunlight. "This wine is far too sweet. Take it away at once!" I snap at the poor wine steward. "And have my study painted a darker shade of green."

The staff exchange worried looks but dare not disobey their tempestuous lord. In the library, I fly into a rage over mids-shelved books that have sat in place for years. "Must fools and incompetence surround me?" I shout to no one, hurling the offending tomes to the floor. It's no wonder I have no direction, have no purpose. The foundation is all wrong.

I critique minor flaws in the food that send the cooks into a frenzy over some imaginary taste I demand to be replicated. My restless malaise drives me to lash out, but I know if I look hard enough, I can find it.

Find what I need to fix to get out of this… hole I have found myself in.

Yet, no amount of arbitrary condemnation can fill the aching void within me. I am adrift, bearing down on my beleaguered household to silence the uncertainty and longing plaguing my weary soul.

I pick at my bland breakfast, wishing I could avoid facing Jasmine this morning after my dramatic exit earlier. But keeping up appearances as mates necessitates some pretense of normalcy.

As I hear her enter, I quickly compose my face into an expression of nonchalance. "Ah, good morning, my dear," I say with obviously forced casualness.

She bids me a timid good morning and takes her seat, and an awkward tension hangs over us. She smiles at me. Content. How could she be? After everything? What game is she playing?

We eat in silence. Then, she had the audacity to ask me how my morning was. I push the food around on my plate on a merry dance.

"Well, this is quite dreary. We simply must plan some diverting entertainment, or I shall go mad from tedium!"

Jasmine looks taken aback by my sudden shift in mood. "I... of course. Did you have something in mind?"

I wave a hand flippantly. "Oh, I"m sure I can contrive some amusement to pass the time now that the main event has concluded." I force a nonchalant laugh. "Can"t have life getting dull, can we?"

"Already? After all the festivities?" she says sleepily.

Inside, I cringe at my performance.

I hate her. I hate being attached to her.

But most of all, I hate myself.

Silence.

I stare at her.

She stares back.

I swallow a barrage of sharp words, instead speaking through gritted teeth, "Come now, a change of scenery will do us good." Composing my features into a facsimile of a smile costs great effort.

But maintaining appearances remains imperative, however vexing. "I did promise to help find your family," I continue in a measured tone. "Let"s travel to your childhood town and see what clues we may happen to uncover or what have us."

"Really! I will prepare right away!" Jasmine exclaims joyfully at the prospect of the journey. Despite myself, her unrestrained happiness makes my heart swell with warmth… the witch.

I quickly force down the unwelcome feeling, turning away. "We shall depart as soon as arrangements are made."

Suddenly, she throws her arms around me in an impulsive hug. "Y-you"re the greatest, sir!" Before I can react, she plants an enthusiastic kiss on my cheek.

I disentangle myself, clearing my throat. "All right, all right, let"s act like we belong, shall we?" I say, waving my hand in a pretense of nonchalance to cover my flustered reaction.

Composing myself, I offer a thin smile. "Yes, I"m a man of my word. Let"s be off as soon, shall we?"

She flushes, catching herself. "But, of course, forgive my outburst. I"m just so grateful for this chance… for everything, really…"

As she beams, I nod, trying to conceal the whirlwind of emotions that her presence has stirred up. "I am simply fulfilling a promise, that is all. Nothing more."

Observing her unrestrained delight in the hope of locating her loved ones evokes an uncomfortable sensation in my gut. Before I can examine them too closely, I turn away.

An hour later, when the carriage arrives, she is once more delirious, in a fit of happiness. "Oh, thank you again for this, my lord!" she exclaims, clasping her hands as the footman opens the carriage door. "I can scarcely believe we are truly embarking on this journey."

"Yes, yes, contain your enthusiasm," I remark sarcastically, making a flippant gesture. "Anyone would think we were embarking on some fantastical quest rather than a mundane genealogical survey."

Her smile falters slightly at my acerbic tone. I wave a hand dismissively, keeping my manner aloof. "It"s of no matter. I simply aim to temper expectations."

"Of course, sir," she replies politely, settling into her seat, gazing around in wonder at the wealth demonstrated, no doubt.

I scowl inwardly, perversely wishing to extinguish that radiant smile from her face - anything to better match my sour mood. What foolish sentimentality to envy her simple joy. I turn away before she can glimpse my dark countenance. "Shall we be off, then?" I call briskly to the coachman, eager to depart.

As the vehicle lurches into motion, she suddenly wraps her arms around mine and rests her head on my shoulder affectionately. I stiffen in surprise at her familiarity. But I suppress my instinct to pull away, not wanting to draw attention to my inner turmoil.

Keeping my eyes fixed ahead, I try to ignore her nearness and the conflicting emotions stirred up.

My focus should remain on the task at hand, and I should not be distracted by troublesome feelings I do not understand. There will be time enough to unravel their meaning when we are well away from here, and our roles permit some distance.

For now, I must play the doting mate. However, vexing her touch proves to my battered heart.