Chapter 42
Forty-two
Edwin
Knowing James wouldn’t be in the best of moods, I waved off the maids after they drew a bath.
I didn’t want anyone else in our rooms tonight.
When darkness properly fell, he came in, as I’d expected.
He didn’t train in the dark, usually; he preferred a dawn workout, so he’d quit when the light failed.
He did smell suspiciously of horse, and I saw some dark hairs on him, so apparently he’d gone to Titan.
He didn’t seem all that sweaty, so they must have just ridden around the palace grounds.
James grunted at me, shedding clothes on his way to the bathroom, and I followed him in as he dropped the last of them before stepping into the water.
Once seated, he let out a long sigh. “It’s still hot. You’ve got me timed now?”
“You don’t like to train in the dark, and you won’t risk injuring Titan,” I pointed out. “You’re normally back in by the time the sun sets.”
He gave me this sideways glare as if he hated I was right.
Oh, he was in a mood, all right.
The air was awkward as I sat on the little wooden stool near the edge of the tub, picked up the soap, and started to wash his arm. I didn’t meet his eyes as I soaped him up. Normally, I did this because I enjoyed having my hands on him, but right now the act felt almost like an apology.
Then again, knowing what I did, he probably did feel betrayed because I still wanted him to be king.
No words passed between us for several minutes. I went from one arm to the other, then shifted behind him so I could wash his hair. Only then did I dare ask the question burning the tip of my tongue.
“Was I like this last time, too? Urging you to take the throne.”
He gave a long, exhausted sigh, slumping farther into my hands. “Yes.”
I wasn’t surprised, somehow. It felt like me. “Same reasons?”
“For the most part. You felt I was the best candidate, that I’d be good at it and no one would take either of my siblings seriously.” He paused, then ruefully added, “You were right. As usual.”
“I’m almost sorry I was. If that makes sense.”
“I think you felt guilty for convincing me to take the throne. You sacrificed a great deal, personally, to stay at my side. You never dated anyone, barely saw your family, even went three months once without reading a single book.”
I paused with my hands in his hair, horrified at this news. “I didn’t even read?!”
“Nothing but reports. That’s how bad the situation was during the height of salence. We didn’t even have the energy or luxury for hobbies.”
“Gods, goddesses, and little demons,” I breathed, still horrified by this information. I’d never not read. In the entirety of my life, from the second I was old enough to carry a book, I’d always had one in hand. I would have sworn I would stop breathing before I stopped reading.
But I hadn’t read anything? For months?
“I never blamed you,” James whispered. “You were right. I really didn’t have much choice then but to take the throne. But now is different. Surely there’s no need to shoehorn me back into being king.”
I could see why he would think so, as he’d minimized one of the major disasters and hopefully had prevented the rest. Or could prevent the rest. I could see why he wouldn’t think us desperate enough to need him once more.
But he only saw the situation now, as it stood. Not all the pitfalls lurking ahead of us.
I wet my lips and tried to phrase my words very, very carefully. “Have you considered that taking the throne this time wouldn’t be nearly as difficult?”
“Because I won’t marry Valentina?” He snorted. “Granted, she was half the nightmare.”
“Not just her, either. You said Queen Beatrice and King Patrick gave you a lot of trouble as well. They were too busy nitpicking what you were doing or interfering with good intentions, which caused multiple issues. What if they, too, weren’t here to give you trouble?
If you used taking the throne as a bartering chip, couldn’t you convince them to retire? ”
I could tell my query caught him for a moment.
He mulled the thought over as I rinsed his hair, and only spoke when I started lathering it with conditioner.
“I can see how you would think so. I mean, it’s not wrong, my reign would likely be much easier.
I’d have to send them out of the palace entirely, though, as they can’t help but meddle.
I can’t imagine they’d leave without being forced out completely. ”
“So you don’t give it good odds?”
“Sadly, no.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. He was not likely wrong—those two enjoyed their power and position—but wasn’t the question worth asking? I felt so.
I also felt like the trauma and horror of the past life wouldn’t repeat itself. With me firmly here at his side, without all the pitfalls he’d been hurled into, wouldn’t being king be entirely different this time? Did trauma keep him from thinking so? Or was I perhaps being too optimistic?
“I put the clause into the adoption contract because I will not entertain this.” James pointed casually to the southeast. “If either Patrick or Beatrice put their foot down and command me to take the throne, I’ll pack up that very day and leave.
I’ve got a wonderful villa waiting for me to retire in.
I will not remain in this country if they try their heavy-handed tactics again. ”
I paused once more, hands resting against the cool sides of the tub. Alarmed by the conviction in his voice, I demanded, “Wait, what of the Task you must do?”
“It won’t be done.”
“You’d skip Paradise rather than be king?!”
“If that’s what it takes.”
Now I knew he was being needlessly stubborn. Shit, he really wouldn’t run away, would he?
Fuck, he might.
James tilted his head to look back at me, his expression heartbreakingly vulnerable. “Would you go with me? If I left.”
I hated his uncertainty and immediately put my arms around his shoulders, hugging him to me, not caring that he wet my shirt. “I would. Do not doubt that for a moment.”
He sank into my arms, another sigh slipping out, but this one sounded heavy. As if he had no more strength in him.
“You’re afraid of what will happen if I leave Zuskal.”
I couldn’t refute his words. “Your Task is here, connected to this country. You’ll forfeit Paradise completely if you leave. I have no doubt of that. I fear…I fear what will happen.”
“I can’t say your fear is misplaced. I don’t want to leave. But being king is…”
He didn’t need to finish his sentence. Being king again was anathema to him. I must somehow convince him the experience wouldn’t be the same. There was no other possibility. James really would flee—put himself into exile—over repeating the reign he once endured.
I was at a loss. I had no idea what to do next, what to say next. How to convince him. How to navigate this issue. This was the first thing we’d ever fought about, or even disagreed on, and I’d rather fight about something mundane. Something that didn’t matter.
Not something like this, that would affect not only this life but our afterlife.
James lifted both hands, bath water sloshing as they came free, before resting his fingers on my forearms. Holding me to him. When he spoke, his voice was threadbare, barely above a whisper.
“Do you really see no other possibility? Am I truly the only candidate?”
Gods above, must I answer him? I hedged around the question.
“I can’t think of another good candidate.
Rather, I fear the void you would leave if you refused the throne.
A power vacuum will only bring the worst kind of people, those with more greed than sense.
The half-siblings and cousins you have, the other royals who can make a claim for the throne, are only stayed by your position.
If you were to leave it, they’d flood in. Who, if any, would you choose?”
He groaned, the sound emanating from his very soul. “Did I mention that most of those relations didn’t survive the war? They turned tail and ran or tried to barter with demons and became possessed.”
I filtered this information in and countered, “So you know for a fact that none of them are trustworthy?”
“Unfortunately.”
I wasn’t at all surprised. “Dearest, I won’t push you more tonight, but I want you to consider two things.
First, you have the knowledge necessary to avoid the same pitfalls that made your last reign such a horror show.
Taking the throne again won’t bring about the same result.
I’m confident on this. Second, you must remember to not let fear make any decisions for you.
Fears are not rational and will not lead you to good results. ”
“Wise words,” he muttered, sitting up. “But I’m done talking about this tonight. Let’s sleep.”
I’d probably pushed as much as I could right now. If he wanted a break from this topic, I could allow it. Hopefully our conversation wouldn’t stir up new nightmares. I prayed it hadn’t.
Still, sleeping on it and letting him mull over the decision seemed the wiser course.
If he didn’t change his mind, would it be cheating to ask Vuheia to put a word in his ear? Even if he didn’t want to listen to me, surely he’d listen to her.
I’d tuck that away as a last resort.