21. sordid dissemination

21

sordid dissemination

Rivian

Lucynda has quelled my rage and inspired goodness in me. Not perpetually, but the kind of goodness that allows me to be free of my anguish and frivolous selfish agendas and see the true value of the things I hide myself from.

"Everything should be good to go." The sound of Kacian's voice shakes me from festering in my thoughts for too long, knowing that I miss her as she travels with my sister to find answers.

But I have to focus on the task at hand.

I turn around to find my wife's guard standing at my doorway. I wave him in as I reach the top shelf for a decanter of my oldest scotch, pulling down two glasses with it.

He approaches the desk and I can still feel the animosity radiate from him. Before taking off to my mother's house with Lucynda, I had a private meeting with Kacian. I explained everything to him, minus the back and forth sibling drama and he listened, though I know he wanted to do more than that. But I gave up everything from meeting Lucynda to her curse, to my secret agendas and the reason for needing Nathairia, and everything else in between.

He didn't speak a word. Not before. Not during. Not after. So, this is the first time I'm hearing his voice since the fight in the hallway and I'm surprised he's even talking to me now.

I pour the drinks and slide him his glass. He takes it eagerly before speaking, "I've been thinking…" He analyzes the golden liquid through the glass, then slams the four fingers I poured before placing the glass back down. "Why not just hand the reins over to Travois?" Kacian's question fills the space between us like a smoke grenade. Thick and out of nowhere.

I wasn't feeling an ounce of anything remotely close to anger when I woke this morning. I rose well before the sun, a clear and level-headed mind that I used to work hard in order to ensure this Society meeting can go as smoothly as possible, but I can't help but twitch at his random and absurd suggestion.

I lower my own glass, letting the scotch barely touch my lips for a second before I do, and wait with bated breath for him to explain his reasoning.

"He wants this. You don't, or at least you didn't. You'd be free of the obligation and you and Lucynda could live a somewhat restriction free life." He doesn't wait for me to respond or to argue. He simply spins the glass on the table as if it were a small dainty table-top spinner and then turns to leave.

What the hell was that?

I hold my own glass in my hands, taunting myself with the layer of confusion and irritation that berates me at Kacian's words.

I finally decide to swallow down my drink, but it doesn't do anything to get rid of the lump forming in my throat. So I reach for the whole bottle and tip the neck of it back to my lips, gulping a generous amount to eliminate the intrusion.

What the fuck does he mean, hand over the reins ? Did he not hear everything I went through just to be this . Forget the fact that I needed this position to ultimately seek the endgame I'd been planning for, but everything else I suffered because of what was expected of me.

I can't just hand it over . . . can I? And to Travois of all people. The man is a loose cannon, carved by the agony of the storm that conceals his own bewildering desires. Undeclared of what he wants as he slowly self-destructs. He may think he has everything and everyone figured out but the man is lost at sea.

The thought buzzes in my brain for a few beats though. Could Lucynda and I be happier not having to worry about ruling a kingdom together? Life as Royalty was never meant to be this difficult to prove. Granted, I started my run by creating a mess for her to feel obligated to help clean up. We now have threats to eliminate and if all that subsided, would Royalty still be ideal for us? Maybe Kacian’s suggestion was to help me, a suggestion for a life far better than the one he’s watched me live through.

But if that’s all he has to say to me in the midst of everything else, then I refuse to take his words for more than what they are . . . asinine.

Zharus finally knocks at the door just as I expect him to. Good , I could use a distraction by trading one mess for another.

"You summoned?" he asks, his eyes seeming sure and his demeanor fairly normal in comparison to the past few days. But I know he's hiding something, and I promise he's not leaving this room until I find out what it is.

"Come in," I wave at him as I pour my final drink. "Lock the doors behind you," I say, and he does as told. But he doesn't do it without the sliver of worry that layers his face, probably unaware that I catch it before he has time to wipe it off and feign an expression of calmness.

"If this is about the meeting. I can assure you everything seems to be in order. A few of the other guards were bombard with questions that they ignored but otherwise, all seems to be calm for now and-"

I hold my palm out, urging his silence. "That's not what I asked you here for, Zharus." I sip the amber liquid from the glass tumbler as I keep my eyes concentrated on him.

He suddenly seems nervous, like he can't stand the fact that he has no idea what I could possibly need him for, but I think after all the family secrets we’ve shared and how close his own secrets have teetered the edge of reveal, he should have a pretty good idea of what I'll be asking of him today.

The sun rises over the trees, the late afternoon settling in as its rays burst against the layers of snow, now melting into the ground.

"Sir?" he questions.

I set the glass down on my desktop and take a few steps in front of it before leaning against the edge.

"I have given you plenty of space and way more leniency than I like because…" I trail off for a brief second knowing that the real answer is not of knowledge to Zharus as I've tried my best to keep him hidden from the truth. But the truth is that I simply didn't care enough to pursue whatever secrets he hid because I was too focused on my own. That, and I thought I could trust him.

That all changes today.

"You are a person of trust in this castle. I have allowed you too much of your own privacy and I called you here, demanding answers." I decide to skip the pleasantries and be stern in my request. He's not free until he gives me what I need.

"Sir. Rivian, I-" He stumbles backwards, trying to escape my demand and ends up seated in a chair.

I stalk forward, letting him know that I will be heard and he will obey my orders to tell me the truth.

"That's not a suggestion, Zharus. That is a command." I let my voice raise a little too loud, but I don't care who hears this conversation. Let everyone know that I will not be so lax any longer.

"I'm ashamed," Zharus breathes, and his admission has me quite confound but curious as to what he means.

"Elaborate," I request and he takes a deep breath.

I watch as he battles with the fact that after this, things might change between us. I can’t expect that whoever he might name, should be this detrimental to his reserve unless he’s going to say the one name I don’t want him to say.

He twitches with hesitation, knowing that he has no choice but to unveil his secret. But something feels suspicious. Almost performative in the way he reacts. I’ve always known Zharus to be strong in his convictions and willing to do whatever it takes to abide by my command. He’s never disappointed me up until this very moment where he seemed to have let his need for privacy pivot into a point of dishonesty and the way he’s reacting seems faulty to his character.

I've never seen him act so seedy and nervous before.

But I step forward to instruct his response.

“Now, Zharus,” I demand and he can’t even look at me as the forbidden whisper leaves his mouth.

"It's the king." My Factotum closes his eyes in shame and shrinks into himself as every vein in my body boils over with hot, white rage, feeling betrayal rise in my blood and the need to crush his skull surfaces rather quickly.

"Viktrum?" I question through gritted teeth and a low, growly tone. Fury crashes in my chest, causing me to flip over the side table that separates me from him.

I then find myself at his feet and lifting him up, crashing us against the wall on the opposite side of me. "You're sleeping with my enemy?" I shout, fury dripping from my tone as I grip him by his shirt and hold him inches off the ground to face me.

"He-I… I don't- Rivian I-" Zharus stutters and mumbles over his words as he shakes in my hold. I could end him right now. Rip out his heart and it would be over for him. No extra steps to rid of a vampire not of Royal blood. Just watch his body decay with his littered heart screaming for life next to him. His heart will outlive him, and that will be the punishment he deserves for daring to betray me and this kingdom.

But I can't act foolishly or hastily. I have to figure out what to do with him and I can't have my people thinking I've gone mad. Though they won't be too happy to find out that I let Zharus' actions slide for any reason. They have to know that I will seek retribution.

I release my hold on him and let him slink to the floor like a pathetic waste of skin and bones. I turn my back on him and take a few steps, rubbing my jaw as I think about what the fuck I'm supposed to do now.

"How long?" I ask, still seething at his confession.

"Since… since the be-beginning of the year," he admits, and nothing can stop that anger that churns inside me.

I turn to face him and point an accusatory finger his way. "So you mean to tell me that all the bullshit you fed me about the Rogue and the suspicions that Valor had; the claims you state come from your informant, they all came from Viktrum?" Disgust lines my face as the realization hits.

The whole time he gave me intel, the whole time he assisted me in seeking answers for the accusations that were made against us were by the very person he had been secretly visiting.

How did I miss this?

"I didn't know that he was going to accuse you or the Society. At first he told me about the attacks and swore he saw Travois and-"

I pick up a wooden chair and rip a leg from the bottom of it, not an ounce of hesitation eludes me as I send it flying straight into his stomach which causes him to sputter on his own fucking air.

I can't listen to this. Whatever excuse he plans to give will not be good enough to rid of the aching fury that I need to release. I could very well burn his fucking body and walk away not blinking an eye but I need to think straight. I have a meeting to be at in an hour and he was supposed to stand by my side as my trusty Factotum, not as some sordid traitor who thought getting his dick wet was more important than his duty to the kingdom.

"I am your king. Zharus. I find this to be a form of betrayal punishable by whatever force I deem necessary," I state in an unforgiving and rigid tone, preparing him for the discipline I plan to enforce.

"Please…" he grunts as he pulls the wood from his stomach, blood spurts out from the wound before slowly healing shut. "I can explain," he pleads and I find it offensive that he even thinks I want whatever sorry explanation he could give.

"I'm- I can-" he tries to stand as he finds the words he wants to say but instead I push him back up against the wall and he gasps. I know my Factotum is stronger than this, but he's not putting up a fight because he answers to me. So why did he feel brave enough to go behind my back and fuck the only person on this planet who seems to have a problem the way I run my kingdom?

I press my forearm into his collarbone, holding him tightly as I force his eyes to mine. "I have trusted you for the last twelve years of my life, and you have been sleeping with the one person who has done nothing but seek out the end of me and my kingdom. And for what, huh? I don't suppose you know why he is so hell bent on my downfall, do you?" I push further, squeezing him between me and whatever has his face twisting in pain on the wall behind him.

He doesn't break eye contact though, despite his weakness to fight against me. But before I can threaten him with another stake or plunge my hand into his chest, someone rushes through the door, splintering the wood as it breaks off its hinges and breathing harshly as they interrupt us.

We both look over to see that my sister, Troian, has busted her way through with a look of panic on her face.

"It's Lucynda," she exclaims, and I immediately let go of Zharus to rush out of the office. But before I get too far, I give my sister a serious glare and point to the weak betrayer slumped against the wall.

"Get him in the dungeon, chained…" Troy stops my thoughts with a harsh shake of her head. " She's down there." And that's when I know my wife's curse has resurfaced, the only reason to chain her would be of that revelation.

Defeat plagues me.

I need to keep Zharus locked up but the last place I want him is in the same room as my wife.

"The Vitrival," I state surely, knowing damn well that such device is sinister and of a torture like no other. "Get him in the Vitrival and make sure he has no way of getting out." Troy nods at my request before I continue, "Then meet me in the Center Hall," I insist before I leave.

She tries to say more to me, but I brush her off to find my wife.