The Raven Girl

Chapter 34

It was forgiveness that had released Asta of her frightened, weary mind, allowed her to be free of the fears that had tied her to the King. Seeing him in his feeble state had given her courage, for sure, but it had not been the single thing to rid her of all that had terrorised her those past months. He had still remained, after all, the same in her head despite his sickened, pallor of face and his weak body for it had never been a person she'd seen- no, perhaps it had, at the very beginning- but a monster, a demon, with no weaknesses and no humanity.

The fact she had been able to forgive him meant that he had appeared human again, either by something he'd purposely said and done or by a small glimpse of something else, something that didn't quite fit in a routine or act. By seeing the human, the near corpse's shock at what she'd said, she knew that he could just as easily die as she could. Well, in his present state, he was going to.

Just as she had left him to his fate, who could be heard lurching over the side of the grand bed and chucking up all the wine he'd guzzled, she saw Rickard walking calmly over, dressed in black as if pre-empting his brother's funeral, with as grave an expression as she'd ever seen. How queer, she thought, that he should be so austere when nobody important was about- he had told her himself on many occasions that he hated Eirik's ways, the falseness of their apparent 'love'- yet he seemed more subdued than usual, sparing only a nod in greeting before continuing on his way.

Asta turned to watch him for a minute, confused as to why he kept up the pretence, as he walked toward his brother's door, shaking his head ever so slightly as he did so. Perhaps he'd seen her stop, for a minute later, with his hand rested on the wooden door (which had been carved with all manners of intricate patterns and roaring lions who bore crowns upon their manes) he looked behind him and smiled a small, sad smile.

"Asta?" He asked. "Did you want something?"

She thought for a moment, knowing it would be far too impertinent to ask why he was so sombre at his brother's death.

"He's not getting any better, is he?"

"No," replied Rickard, his sad smile turning somewhat humorous now, "but then again, I wouldn't have thought you'd care."

"I care enough." She said, a wide, mischievous grin overcoming her otherwise passive expression- she could feel the treasonous words prying at the roof of her mouth and there was nothing to do but to let them tumble out, trusting that Rickard was a friend enough to overlook them. "I care that he won't get better, for his sake as well as your own." 

"For his sake?"

"The longer he is alive, the longer the list of sins he writes."

From the King's chambers, that same retching sound could be heard, followed by a large outburst of coughing and then a loud screaming, that seemed to mimic a vulture's cry, of "wine! I need more wine!"

As soon as he called, any servants that still remained scattered about the corridors looked to each other in sheer horror and began to make themselves sparse, pretending they had other duties to tend to. Asta sighed, watching them half in humour and half in exasperation. Before, they had never acted so strange, they had never been so scared to serve him. Why was it that when he was rendered beyond defenceless and unable to hurt them, they became too terrified to help their so-called beloved leader?

Eventually one servant took it upon herself to enter the godforsaken room, glaring at every other coward who had been present and not busy.

"I'll put the young girl out of her misery, shall I?" Rickard muttered and Asta walked off, chuckling at his reluctance, leaving him to speak with Eirik alone.