24. Haldric

twenty-four

Haldric

Haldric missed Benjin the instant he was gone. Goddess' mercy, he wished he could have asked that Benjin stay and keep him company while he spoke with his father. But he'd already been more brazen than he should have by bringing Benjin this far in open defiance of his aunt. His father never would have let him get away with it—not without demanding an explanation.

And what could he have said?

Sorry, Father, but I need Benjin here with me. Why? Because I'm in love with him. What about Lady Katalin? Oh, well, that's easy. I have no Void-cursed idea.

Clenching his jaw, Haldric tried to calm his restless thoughts as his father's hand clutched weakly at his own. "How was your trip?"

Haldric decided against mentioning the ambush. The last thing his father needed right now were more reasons to worry. Haldric would tell him later once he'd recovered.

If he recovers…

"Productive," he said. "Despite a few…challenges."

To his relief, his father didn't press the way he usually would have. Instead, he gave Haldric an absent smile. "Good. That's good. And Lady Katalin? Did our plan work?"

Our plan…

As though any part of this alliance had been Haldric's idea. Yet, he hadn't fought against it, had he? How could he not claim partial responsibility when he'd carried the task out willingly.

Haldric thought of Benjin, and for a single shining moment, considered telling his father the truth. That he loved someone else. That while he appreciated the need for allies, he had no desire to marry Katalin. That he wanted to call the entire thing off, find some other way to hold Ilthabard together.

But gazing into his father's wan, hopeful face, he knew there was only one thing he could say.

Swallowing, he nodded. "It did. Nothing is set in stone yet," he hastened to add. "But it's clear that Lord and Lady Galax are invested in the union, as is Katalin herself. Things seem…promising."

A heavy stone sank in his gut as his father's smile widened. "I'm glad." He shifted in his bed with a grimace, resting his head back against his pillow and closing his eyes. "I don't have much time left now. Soon, the weight of this crown will fall to you. It warms my heart to know you'll be well positioned ere I'm gone."

Haldric's jaw tightened to the point of aching. He said nothing, couldn't choke the words out even if he tried. Instead, he simply clung to his father's limp, all-too-frail hand until the room filled with the king's gentle snores. With his eyes closed like that, his face slack, his father looked almost at peace.

Or dead.

Setting his father's hand gently atop the sheets, Haldric fled the chamber. The room outside had quieted since his and Benjin's arrival. Disappointment filled him when he saw no sign of Benjin or the Grand Magus. The guards and servants had cleared out as well, leaving his aunt sitting alone.

She rose when she spotted him. "How is he?"

"Dying."

He regretted his harsh response almost instantly, but his aunt merely nodded, her expression grim. "Aye, that he is. It won't be long now."

Haldric's chest felt too heavy, each breath an extraordinary effort. Still, he clung to his calm fa?ade. "I'm exhausted after my travels. If you'll excuse me."

Bowing to his aunt, he started for the door to the hall.

"Word of the king's deteriorating condition is already spreading," she called after him. Though her voice was soft, a note of steel laced her words. Haldric paused by the door, listening to her with his back turned. "If you wish to solidify your support, now is the time. Have you given any more thought to my proposal?"

His calm mask fractured. "For civil war, you mean?" he asked wearily.

His aunt stepped closer, lowering her voice. "No. For doing what you must in order to prevent it."

Memories of the brutal attack on the road played before him, laced with his suspicions of Duke Westley. Perhaps Janelle was right—perhaps he should force the governors into line before he or anyone else he cared about died. Yet wouldn't that prove him exactly the tyrant the other governors feared?

"I need more time to consider."

His aunt snorted a humorless laugh as she started toward the door. "Very well. But don't wait too long, Haldric. A ruler cannot afford uncertainty. These are troubled times, and you must be strong if you are to rise to them. Melisie wouldn't have hesitated. Neither can you."

Though she said the words with no hint of malice, they crashed into him like a slap to the face, exposing one of his greatest fears: that others would judge him against the example set by his late sister…and constantly find him wanting.

"Excuse me," he choked out, fleeing into the hall before she could say any more. His head spun as he retreated to his quarters, barely even noticing the flow of people around him.

All he wanted in that moment was to see Benjin—to wrap the apprentice in his arms and seek comfort in his lips. Yet how could he now that grim reality was setting in again? When he himself didn't even know how to move forward?

Retreating into the familiar safety of his chambers, he was surprised to find a package waiting for him on the table. Frowning, he approached, freezing when he read the name of the sender. Duke Westley.

For it to have arrived before him, the duke must've either sent it days ago or else used a mage to hasten its arrival. Haldric's hand trembled as he reached for it. If Duke Westley really was behind the attack, this could be a trap. Then again, if that was the case, he probably wouldn't have signed it and incriminated himself.

Suddenly furious at all these political games and deceptions, Haldric tore into the package, ripping it open to reveal a letter along with a small box. He opened the box first, quickly checking it for any obvious magic.

Inside was a beautifully rendered map of Ilthabard. It was higher quality than any Haldric had ever seen and must have been created via magic given the impossible level of detail. Every road and tree seemed perfectly rendered. Each province's name stood out in bold, care taken to delineate their borders.

Haldric stared at the stark black lines for a moment, so much deeper and thicker than the fine, thin lines used for everything else. Then, he set the map aside and opened the letter. It was short and to the point, Duke Westley's seal affixed to the end.

"I hope the rest of your journey was a safe one. Kindly give that mage of yours my regards. I had no idea he was traveling with you, or else I would have relished the opportunity to meet him at dinner. And all the best to the king. The other governors and I will be praying to the Goddess that he suffers as little as possible in his final days."

Haldric's grip on the scroll tightened as he read. When he finished, he hurled the missive across the room with a furious roar. Though there was nothing outright incriminating in its contents, Haldric could read between the lines.

He killed Melisie. Haldric had been suspicious before. Now, he felt all but certain. It made too much sense not to be true. Perhaps the duke had dared to present the same offer to Melisie as he had Haldric after all. And when she'd refused, he'd removed her from the equation, suspecting Haldric would be more pliable. Easier to manipulate. Weaker.

Aren't I? The governors hardly need kill me to get what they want. They simply need to sit back and watch Ilthabard crumble about my inept hands.

A tremor racked Haldric's body. He couldn't decide if he wanted to cry or scream, to rage or sob. This was too much—everything was too much. The people deserved someone better than him.

I can't do this.

Goddess' mercy, how he wished Benjin were there. He was desperate for Benjin's touch, his reassuring look. He had a way of making Haldric feel as if everything would work out by his very presence.

Haldric felt unmoored. All he wanted was to crawl into Benjin's arms and forget about everything else for as long as he could. His dying father, Lady Katalin, his aunt, the other governors…he wanted nothing more to do with any of it!

I need him.

The last of his resolve crumbling, Haldric strode from the chamber, his steps quick with desperation. To the Void with his responsibilities. Right now, he needed Benjin, and he intended to find him.

His determination soon turned to confusion when that proved easier said than done. Benjin wasn't in his quarters, and when he inquired of the passing servants, no one had seen him since their return. Growing worried, Haldric made his way to the Grand Magus' tower. Perhaps Benjin had gone to deliver that parcel before retiring to rest?

His heart sank when he entered the lab and found only Grand Magus Dexil there. "Your Highness." Dexil looked up sharply from whatever he'd been working on with evident surprise. "I expected you to be resting."

"I wished to speak with Benjin first." He swept his gaze hopefully about the room as though he might be able to will Benjin to appear by wishing for it hard enough. "Have you seen him since he left the king's chambers?"

"I'm afraid I had an urgent mission for him," Dexil said, his tone apologetic. "He's already departed. It may be some time before he returns."

Rejection stabbed Haldric to the core. Benjin had left just like that, without even waiting to say goodbye? "Very well. I'll leave you to your work, then."

Willing himself not to fall apart until he returned to his chambers, Haldric started for the door.

"Hold on, Your Highness," Dexil called, making him pause. "Tell me what troubles you so?"

Haldric turned, raising an eyebrow. "Am I really so easy to read?"

Dexil fixed him with a kind smile. "I've known you since you were a boy, Your Highness. I should hope I would notice when you're upset."

Haldric hesitated, torn between his desire to leave or to confide in someone. But with Benjin gone and his father fighting for his life, who else was there to turn to except the Grand Magus?

Taking a deep breath, he let it all spill out. His frustration and fear. His despair and loneliness. His uncertainty over how to handle the governors, Duke Westley and Duchess Janelle each with their own agendas. His creeping worry that he'd never live up to his sister's memory or his father's legacy.

And he told Dexil about Benjin—about the feelings he'd developed for the apprentice and the threat they posed to any potential alliance with Khordan. About how he felt as if, no matter what he did, he was letting everyone down.

When he was finished, he felt utterly drained. He'd hoped that getting it all out would make him feel better, like excising the venom from a snake bite. Yet if anything, his doubts weighed only heavier on him now, each fresh admission another boulder set atop his shoulders, beating him down.

Dexil peered at him with such sympathy that tears brimmed in Haldric's eyes. He held himself together through sheer force of will.

"The burden of rule is harsh indeed," Dexil said. "I'm sorry at everything you've been forced to endure."

Then, tell me," Haldric pleaded, his voice desperate. "Tell me what I should do. You've ever been my greatest teacher, Dexil. Guide me now when I need your counsel the most."

A strange look passed over Dexil's face, something almost like regret. The Grand Magus bowed his head. "If I may speak frankly, Your Highness, if you are not wholly committed to your chosen course, perhaps it would be better for everyone if you stepped aside."

"Step…aside?"

Haldric blinked, considering the notion. What a relief it would be to relinquish his right to rule. To give up that burden and allow someone else to carry it in his stead. The more he thought about it, however, the more impossible it seemed.

Eventually, he scoffed and shook his head. "Even if I wanted to, it would never work. My aunt and the other governors would always view me as an opportunity or a threat. They'd never leave me in peace. And to keep the throne only to sit idle upon it and refuse to rule properly would be even worse than failure." A great sigh ripped from deep within him. "If only there was a way for me to…"

"To disappear?" Dexil suggested quietly.

Haldric nodded.

Dexil played with the rings on his fingers. "What if I had a…a path to offer you, Your Highness."

Haldric furrowed his brow, his heart quickening. "What kind of path?"

"The kind you do not take lightly." Returning to his workstation, Dexil rummaged about it before raising a scroll. "This spell would permanently alter your memories. I could grant you a new life far away from Revesole, abdicating the throne while leaving everyone else no choice but to honor your wishes. Once used, however, there'd be no going back. You'd never be able to return to the palace again."

Permanent exile? The thought twisted Haldric's stomach even as it filled him with intense relief. He'd be freed from the burden of the crown, able to make his own decisions and chart his own course. With no clear heir to continue the Demeroux line, it would fall to the Provincial Council to decide. The governors all seemed to have their own ideas for Ilthabard's future anyway. Let someone who actually wanted to rule figure things out in his stead. No doubt they'd do a better job of it. And Benjin…

The thought of leaving Benjin behind, of parting from him forever, tore at Haldric. Yet, what kind of future would they have if he stayed, always sneaking around behind Katalin's back, never able to be together in the open? No, better for Benjin as well if Haldric simply disappeared. Better for everyone.

I'm sorry Benjin…but this is goodbye.

His gaze hardening, Haldric met the Grand Magus' questioning violet eyes and gave a single jerk of his head. "Do it."