Chapter 21 The Wretched Reflection
The Wretched Reflection
That night, after spending all day prepping battle ideas and helping train new recruits, Morfran entered his tavern room feeling like he did after a strenuous training exercise: achy, exhausted, and spent.
All in a good way, however. There was something satisfying about draining oneself, pouring thoughts and actions into plans that might be worth it down the road.
It was what Morfran had enjoyed most about battle—the sense of accomplishment at the end of the day.
He unbuckled his sword straps (he’d purchased a generic one from the smithy, though it didn’t feel right in his grip), set aside his gear, and began washing his face with a basin of water below a mirror.
And froze.
Because in the reflection of the mirror was Ravana.
He didn’t startle, as he thought he might should she make an unexpected and unwelcome appearance.
He didn’t see double, as he feared he might after all that had happened between them.
He just turned and looked her over, confirming that he was actually seeing her and wasn’t just hallucinating from exhaustion.
But no—she was there. Lying on his bed, dressed in a slim velvet dress the color of amethysts, her head propped up by her palm. He didn’t fail to notice she wore his favorite dress of hers, nor the fact that it looked as though she’d applied an extra coat of lipstick before he’d entered.
He exhaled, saying nothing. A simple “hello” didn’t seem like it’d suffice in such a tense situation.
She didn’t seem in a hurry to speak, either, instead appearing to take great satisfaction in leisurely running her eyes up and down him.
Then she burst into laughter. “I never thought I’d see the day when you’d don commoner clothing just to sneak away from me.” She raised her finger and twirled it. “Turn for me, my love. Let me see the full effect.”
He didn’t turn. He was still in shock, his mind going a thousand places at once. If she was here, that meant her guard was likely here. They would have the city surrounded. They might already have taken some of the others hostage. Brim. Bronwen. Grandfather Tortoise and Drezella.
That was when he saw the slight rippling sheen of light across her skin as she lowered her finger. On closer inspection, that sheen was over her entire body. He loosened his breath, relaxing ever so slightly. “You’re not really here. You’re projecting your spirit.”
“Mm-hmm. And I’ve seen your mind has gotten slower since I last saw you…
How long has it been? Eleven months? Almost an entire year.
” She clicked her tongue. “That’s quite the dry spell for you, dearest.” She sat up, scooting towards the end of the bed.
She left no wrinkles on the blankets. “But then again, you’ve kept yourself very busy these days. General Bernard.”
He swallowed. “You’ve been tracking me. How?”
She snorted. “You’re such an egotist, always thinking about yourself. How I’ve missed that about you. You were always far too concerned with your image rather than your kingdom. We were made for each other, you and I.”
Morfran thought of Rapunzo, how she was prophesied to fall in love with him, and how he’d come along and ruined it. “We weren’t made for each other,” he said. “I just made you into myself.”
She frowned, studying him with those beautiful eyes that he’d always believed were all the more beautiful because they’d always been on him. “I did receive the divorce papers, Morfran. I know you don’t love me anymore. Was it the foot thing? Don’t tell me it was the foot thing.”
He huffed. “No. It wasn’t. It was all of it. There is a precise art to being a dark ruler that you must master and find the balance of, because dark unfortunately shares a border with evil. You’ve hopped that border and never looked back.”
“And?”
“You spat in our allies’ faces for pleasure, Ravana,” he replied. “You’d set rabies-infected badgers loose in hospitals full of our recovering war veterans.”
“Yes.” She clapped, laughing, and then plied him with a joke. “Oh! What’s funnier than a one-legged veteran running away from a rabid badger?”
“Ravana, no—”
“A rabid, one-legged veteran chasing an entire room of limbless vets! Oh, Morfran, I’d forgotten about that. I do love reminiscing about the good old days with you.”
“Those days weren’t good. They were a nightmare. And you weren’t just evil. You were detestable.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I suppose next you’re going to blame me for this divorce.”
“Yes! Absolutely.”
She leapt to her feet. “Like you’re so much better than me.
You really believe that you’ve meandered my kingdom like some scuzzy traveler—I hate that beard, by the way—without my notice?
I’ve known every place you’ve visited this past year.
You really believe that you’ve managed to win battles and conquer cities as this ‘General Bernard’ ”—she said this with mocking finger quotes—“with your wits alone? No! I let you win! I’ve known each city you were going to hit before you hit it.
I only let you win so you could get this midlife crisis out of your system.
I was going to take them all back when your tantrum was finished. ”
Furious heat whittled down his chest. “You really let me win? Then why did that sea monster nearly eat me? What about General Killian’s army? I was shot in the shoulder—”
“Shoulder shots are never fatal,” she scoffed.
“But it could have pierced me a little farther to the left and then I would be dead. How can you say you planned that?”
“General Killian was sent only to kill rebels, not you. As was the sea monster. It was under strict rules to eat and devour everything and everyone else, but not you.”
“You seriously believe you could tell a flying squid what to do?”
“It was my pet. I raised it and fed it and taught it the Twelve-Step Course in Giant Squid Training. So yes, I seriously believe I could tell it not to eat one measly human, thank you very much.”
“Why?” he demanded, not daring to step anywhere near her. “Why send your minions out to retrieve me? Have you some new torture techniques you want to try on me?”
She looked stunned. She blinked her thick lashes—it appeared she’d applied a fresh coat of eye makeup as well—and said, “Why would I want to torture you? I want you back, Morfran.”
All went quiet as they both gaped at each other. He incredulously, she wistfully. There was no deception he could pick up as he scrutinized her expression for a long while.
Then he asked, “Why?”
“Why?” She seemed bewildered that he’d ask that.
“Because I need you back. I miss you. I miss your ruthless villainy and cruel laughter. I miss watching you make the servants wet themselves by telling them they’ve failed at a job.
I miss making love with you in the graveyard.
I even miss bowling with your decapitated skull collection—remember how we used to do that every Tuesday night with friends? ”
He rubbed his eyes. There were some good times he’d had with her.
He had to admit that to himself. And yet he’d left for the thousand other bad times, all of those times pressing aggressively in on him as if he were in a room getting stacked shut with a thousand bricks and threatening to close him inside with no air, no food, no water.
Maybe she did miss him, as much as someone like Ravana could miss a person. But the fact that she hadn’t announced his desertion to the entire kingdom during the past year told him one thing—she needed him. Not as a husband, but as a war strategist.
She needed him back in the war room and on the front lines, commanding their soldiers and injecting terror into the hearts of men.
Without him, she was just a nasty woman hiding in an impregnable castle telling equally nasty—but exceptionally dim-witted—generals where to go and what to do.
Eventually, however, the mob would come for her.
And no one wanted to see what she was capable of when she was forced into a corner.
Lowering his hands, he asked, “What if I’m not the same person I was a year ago?”
She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “What kind of person are we talking about?”
He shrugged. He himself didn’t know who he was anymore.
Brim told him he thought he was cooler than sliced bread (which Morfran didn’t consider much of a compliment, as that bar was rather low).
Gueldefore believed him to be a devil in hose who liked to spit on his honor and hoard all the attention.
Bronwen obviously trusted him more than he deserved, as did Tortoise and the three Fleet Foot children.
As for what he thought of himself? He was a bundle of doubts and regrets and guilts and shames and hopes.
Some days he wanted to live alone with only Beni and the kids as company.
Other days he wanted to continue traveling with the rebellion and finally see the many lands his men had conquered.
And sometimes all he wanted to do was leap onto the nearest sword and put himself out of his miserable shame. And so on and so forth.
One thing was for sure. None of those futures he’d envisioned included him going back to Ravana.
She’d stiffened, her expression going cold at his growing silence. “Oh, please don’t tell me that you’re on a road to repentance.”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “There are days I still want to behead people and push others in the mud. But I no longer care to wage war against people and conquer land.” He paused. “I want to meet people and see the land instead.”
“You know, Morfran, some people have affairs when they reach their midlife crisis. I’d prefer that opposed to you becoming good.
” She said it like it was an infectious disease, propping her hands on her hips.
“This is those stupid peasants’ doing. You think you’ve made friends?
Friends don’t tell lies, Morfran. They tell each other the truth.
Especially the truth about you being their evil Dark Lord, responsible for many of their loved ones’ deaths and demises. ”
“I’ll ease them into that one,” he responded, but it sounded dull and toneless.
“They’d burn you at the stake if they knew.”
She was being macabre, but she was right.
He knew there was no chance they’d accept him if they knew.
Brim had lost his wife. Tad and Toothless and Drezella had lost their home.
Bronwen had lost her mother and her true love.
They were all castaways drifting throughout this burned-out land, joining together like family and trying to create a raft large enough for them to survive on, and he was a shark in fish’s clothing, seeking refuge among them.
Eventually they’d see his sharp teeth and boot him off the raft, thinking he might try to take a bite.
Hey, that wasn’t a half-bad metaphor. He made a mental note to jot that down and write a song on the lute about it.
“The only one who will accept you is me, dearest,” she said.
“You know this. Though if you don’t come back to me, I suppose I could do the predictable thing and just threaten your little rebellion’s lives.
” She smiled nastily. “I know where you all are, obviously. I have three times the manpower you do. I could just sic them loose on your ragtag band of merry men.”
Panic instantly lurched through his gut. He shook his head roughly. “Ravana, please—”
“I always liked it when you begged,” she responded, tipping her chin back, her eyes half-lidded.
“But I won’t be harming your rebellion, at least not yet.
Because soon, and I think it will be very soon, when you’ve appropriately bonded with them and forged lifelong friendships and perhaps even found a new little vixen to play with, they’ll find out who you are.
And that’ll be the day of your downfall.
They’ll turn on you, Morfran, and gouge your eyes from your sockets and your tongue from your throat, and that’ll be more torturous to you than me simply murdering them.
After that, you will only be capable of hearing their screams as I burn every last one of them at the stake. ”
As she’d spoken, she’d drawn closer to him, and he could see her overly powdered face, white as bone. “All I ask is your return as my evil lord and husband, in name only, if that’s what you’d prefer. But come back to me. I need you.”
She was so close. But she usually only got this close and personal when she wasn’t sure she could back up the threats she’d made.
He stood his ground and made a guess. “The reason this rebellion has been successful is because you’re hoarding all the firepower in Warshire.
” When a flash of anger hinted in her gaze, he continued, half smiling.
“You’re afraid. And even without my help, I’d bet these rebels could reach Castle Atrago and find you. Didn’t one already, once?”
The sheen against her skin was rippling.
A sign of the magic fading, all too soon.
Before she vanished, however, she drew even nearer, and if she’d been physically present they would have been touching.
“They’re not coming just for me, Morfran.
And if they breach the walls and invade the castle and I’m dragged out, that’ll mean they’ve already learned who you are and have strung you up and beaten your body cold and bloodless.
Because, dearest, when you married me, you vowed to leave me only when death do us part… ”