Chapter 43 #2
I couldn’t help but think my death was a pawn in play.
Which sounded morbid even to me, but the strategist in me had to wonder.
I was sure that even though James had never said the words in his first life, people around him realized he loved me.
He wasn’t good at dissembling in matters of the heart, for one, and I saw how obvious he was now.
I truly believed others had picked up on those feelings and maybe used them to their advantage.
Knowing he loved me, was James right in his fear?
Had the unknown assailant killed me on the eve of battle in order to give themselves a winning edge?
Had the ones who had pried open the portal into the demon realm been behind my murder?
I couldn’t think of any other reason. The timing was all too suspicious.
James said he wasn’t sure how the portal opened.
One hundred years ago, when the Demon King rose the first time, cultists had been doing the legwork necessary to open the portal.
We’d all assumed those cultists had died out, but what if someone had resurrected them?
Or something similar to the cult had been created?
I couldn’t imagine who else would be able to undo a magical ward and open a demonic portal.
That took some serious strength, both on the divine and magical level.
I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose, fighting off a headache. There were just too many questions, not enough answers, and no way to find those answers. I could only guess.
If I was right and cultists were active, those stupid bastards might try to open that damn portal again. And my life was at stake—again—because of course I made a more obvious target now. Which might very well be another thing keeping James up at night.
No wonder the man had regular nightmares.
I’d already sworn to be more on my guard, but perhaps I should take even more precautions. To give James some peace of mind, if nothing else. I’d stick to the knights I trusted from now on. And James, of course. I wouldn’t get myself killed through carelessness.
My mind defaulted back to the original question. What had I promised to do in this life that was so vital, so pivotal, my own path to Paradise rested upon it? Was it even one thing? Multiple things?
James had had a finger on every single major event that had happened already. I couldn’t even think of what to contribute.
Or maybe one of the things he hadn’t thought important enough to follow up on should be my Task?
Ugh, it was far too early in the day to give myself a migraine. Maybe I should pray to Vuheia again, see if she’d give me a hint. I desperately needed a hint about now.
Captain Rowan stomped over to me and demanded, not exactly in a quiet voice, “What the hell is wrong with him?”
I sighed and sat fully back, my shoulders resting against the brick of the building behind me. “He’s not getting enough sleep.” Catching the leer on the man’s face, I corrected dryly, “Not for that reason.”
“Oh. Figures it’s something else.”
“He’s stressed and worried he’ll be made king.”
Captain Rowan’s jaw dropped for a second before he cautiously looked about, double-checking no one listened from nearby, then lowered his voice anyway. “I’d heard rumors the king and queen want him on the throne. It isn’t just rumor?”
“We can’t confirm it, but things are looking that way.”
“Personally, I’d prefer it.”
“I as well. I think James is the only one who doesn’t want himself on the throne.”
The knight captain grunted, seemingly amused. “I realize it’s rude to say, because of course it should be his choice, but his refusal relieves me. I feel better knowing he doesn’t actually want the throne. Men who want power can’t be trusted with it.”
I groaned, the line cutting to the quick. “You’re so right.”
“Does it really stress him out so much he can’t sleep?”
“Yes.” Mostly because he knew precisely what would happen after.
Captain Rowan shook his head. “And yet he’s the one best suited. I shudder to think of what this country will be like, what it’ll have to weather, if he or Princess Helena doesn’t take the throne. I trust her to try and be a good queen. Prince Royce doesn’t have the people skills.”
“Sadly, I share your assessment of the situation.”
Staring at James’s back for a long second, Captain Rowan muttered, “Surely he knows we’ll have his back?”
“He knows,” I assured him. Better than anyone, in a sense. “He’s said so to me. He knows. But if the queen and king came to you and offered you the throne, would you trust them?”
Captain Rowan made a face like he’d stuck his head in a hornet’s nest. “Ew. No. Good point there. They’re not good at being parents.
After all Prince James has seen them do with their own children, of course he wouldn’t trust them to leave him be and rule without interference.
” Shaking his head, Captain Rowan started walking toward James.
“I’m booting him out of the yard. He’s so tired and distracted right now, he’s going to hurt someone. Likely himself.”
Thank Vuheia. I’d been of two minds on intervening. James seemed to have worked out some of his stress and anger, though, so hopefully he’d calmed down some.
My eyes dropped to my hands in a sightless sort of way, my mind a million miles away.
What could I do to prevent the mistakes of the past?
What steps had I missed?
What had I failed to do that I must do this time?
I couldn’t just wonder. I had to figure it out. Both our futures depended on it.