death is the only ending for the trash queen

Part 13

"Is that how you normally speak to her majesty?"

Alberu was making a very grand attempt not to be personally insulted.

His conversation with Basen Henituse however had left him feeling like an abusive bastard who all but beat his wife.

With the revelations of his own shortsighted judgment of her and the potential reason behind her sudden change of behavior, Alberu was already feeling quite a bit like the scum that can be found at the bottom of other rot and maggots.

He wasn't a defensive man by nature but he had his pride and he knew that he wasn't the person that Basen insinuated him to be. At least, he'd never offered Cale a cruelty that she hadn't offered him first.

He wasn't sure that made it better. He suspected it didn't. Even with all of her worst flaws on display, he didn't want anyone to treat Cale with cruelty. Even himself.

So the very tense conversation with Basen Henituse had gone very poorly and Alberu was sure he'd said the wrong things.

He was out of sorts.

This wasn't like him.

Even that ill-conceived accusation towards Cale had been unrecognizable from his normal speech. He realized that Cale had also been uncharacteristically blunt in her criticism of him as well.

He'd heard that couples who lost a child had a tendency to split up from one another and he'd always thought that it was a strange thing, logically concluding that having a loved one by your side would be better than being alone.

Now he understood it.

Even just the possibility that Penelope could have died had him so irrational that he couldn't calm down. Under normal circumstances, he'd probably have been able to even handle Basen's dark insinuations in stride. If there was truth to them, reflect upon it. If they were false, refute it.

He didn't even blame Cale but in the heat of the moment, he had and he couldn't take it back and he couldn't calm down.

He was aware that in such a sensitive time he needed to find calm. He at very least needed a level enough head to juggle the various situations around him. He was the king. He couldn't falter to such feeble fears like anyone else.

He needed to be strong and confident.

Alberu sat in the garden, hoping that the fresh air would calm his chaotic mind and realizing with absolute certainty that it wouldn't. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the scene of Penelope fallen at his feet, bruised and nearly beaten.

He saw the hurt in Cale's eyes on the night he told her he'd take Penelope, clear and sharp and incomprehensible to him at the time.

He saw his own wretched reflection in the mirror, smiling for an audience of one as he slowly forgot how to find his own sincere smile.

He buried his head in his hands and let out a shaky sigh.

He'd fucked up.

He couldn't take it back, no matter what assurances he made or apologies he managed he'd broken whatever trust might have existed between him and his wife.

Cale was a complicated existence to him.

At one point, he'd thought she was a whole lot of things that she wasn't. Then he'd learned the hard way that she truly was everything that the rumors portrayed her as.

And still, he clung to her existence. He couldn't explain it. Couldn't fully understand why his eyes were drawn to the spectacle she made of herself and why he chose to constantly clean up after her messes rather than divorcing her and putting an end to this sham of a marriage.