138. Lazarus
LAZARUS
Sprawled out on the balcony couch, Levi lies with his head in Violette’s lap.
Silent and pale in a way I couldn’t have previously imagined.
Despite my prior resistance, everything within me yearns to hold him against me in the wake of witnessing his heartbreak.
A soft knock sounds, drawing mine and Violette’s gazes to the bedroom door of the palace.
She nods her permission for me to answer it.
Crossing the room to open it, I find the bespectacled daemon king. “Charon.”
He bows his head. “Your Eminence.”
The glowing red infernum decorating Charon’s darkest gray skin oscillates with varying intensities of light. One large, monstrous hand lifts between us. Cradled within his lethal, meticulously manicured claws is a scroll sealed with a familiar wax stamp bearing an effigy of Cerebus.
The Royal Vassileon Sigil.
My sigil.
Already knowing who it’s from, my stomach sinks with dread.
“Thank you... Who delivered it?”
And why the fuck isn’t he here?
“It... appeared, sire. Willed into my hands with instructions, unsigned, and this scroll was within.”
Frustration burns through me.
What has he done now, and why couldn’t he just tell us himself?
Whatever the answer is, I know it can’t be good.
I nod in acceptance. “Thank you, Charon..."
Bowing again, Charon’s features flicker with concern, the recognition of which causes an unexpected swell of gratitude to fill my chest. Despite all my failures and shortcomings, this male has always been loyal and kind. Never cast a judgmental eye in my direction when so many others have.
“For everything,” I add, hoping he can feel the sincerity of these too few words as I lower my head and shoulders in a bow.
An appreciative smile graces his lips as he bows lower. “As always, it is an honor, Your Majesty.”
“Goodnight, Charon. Send Monette my gratitude as well, please.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Charon gives a final dip of his head in acquiescence before turning to disappear down the hallway. Drawing in a deep breath to brace myself, I shut the door behind me.
Stare down at the scroll.
Fuck.
The moment I look up, Violette’s gaze locks with mine. The fingers of one hand hover over her lips, her voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s from him, isn’t it?”
Nodding, I swiftly lift the seal.
My precious soulbound, Violette I haven’t concocted another way to die.
I am alive, physically well, and I have a new plan... since dying simply isn’t in the cards for me.
By the time you read this, I will have drunk from The River Oblivion, and all of my memories will have dissipated into the aether.
Consider it a much-needed sabbatical.
A healing.
After which, Mors and Persephone will return me to you.
I am yours—mind, body, and soul.
Closing my eyes, I roll it up again, wishing I could burn it to ash.
Yet more heartbreak for Violette and Levi to endure.