Chapter Seventy-Eight

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Drayce was in the eastern sitting room when a servant told him the news. His uncle was dead. He pressed his lips together in a firm line. He wasn't particularly saddened by the king's passing, but it still felt like a punch in the gut. It was yet another thing to worry about.

Kamasia was without a king. That would mean his coronation was going to be moved up. He limped out into the corridor. He swore he could faintly hear Valloma's cries from where he was. He still wasn't sure he was the one for the job. It was a ginormous responsibility. But that wasn't what daunted him.

Moving the coronation up, meant moving up the prophecy's timetable. He got the distinct impression that all hell was going to break loose soon after the event. What if he wasn't the right person to defeat Keir? His cousin had thought he was the one from the prophecy, and what had happened to him? He had slowly gone mad like his brother before him.

Currently he wasn't worried about his inadequacy to be king or his madness, he was worried about Lillia.

So far, she had been more or less herself. Emotionally and physically as good as could be expected of a pregnant woman. But mentally? That was what he was afraid of. The other night she had tossed and turned for hours, making it almost impossible for him to sleep. The whole time she had been muttering about "voices".

That was disconcerting to say the least. But most concerning was that she had refused to talk to him about it. For the most part she had been good about talking to him about the troubling things on her mind. She had looked thoroughly disturbed when she had woken up. But when he had inquired, she had looked at him resentfully and gone back to sleep.

She knows you're keeping something from her. He thought. She won't talk to you unless you do the same. But he couldn't tell her. She would hate him for it. Wouldn't she? He would just hope that things would improve.

Drayce decided to take a walk outside. His leg was slowly mending, but the wait was excruciating. He was still relying on the crutch, but he could put some weight on his leg without too much pain.

He hobbled out onto the castle grounds and, as gracefully as he could manage, set out along the paved path. Drayce inhaled deeply, relishing the fresh, crisp air. The weather was starting to cool, causing the leaves on the trees to change color magnificently.

Eventually his leg started protesting the exercise and he found a stone bench to rest on for a moment. Drayce had hoped that the fresh air would help clear his head, but he had no such luck. His thoughts were still running a hundred miles an hour.

What would he do if Lillia started to go mad like his cousins? He sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that. He had been able to force Keir's power from his body, could she do the same? Besides that, was he ready to become king? That was going to be happening sooner than expected. Worry after worry stacked on top of each other. If Keir didn't find a way to kill him, the stress would.

He had moments when he was determined to be a good king, to make a positive difference, but he didn't feel remotely ready to take charge of the entire kingdom. Lud, he wasn't raised for this. This was his lot in life. However, he wasn't resigned to it completely. Not only did he have to worry about his role over the kingdom, but he also had to ensure the prevention of the destruction of the world. Otherwise there would be nothing to rule.

He heard a soft rustling of cloth directly behind him. Drayce groaned inwardly. Why couldn't he have a moment of peace?

"You're gutsy coming this close to the castle, charlatan." He said without turning around.

Zathrian sat on the other end of the bench. The hood of his cloak was up, partially obscuring his face. He nodded towards Drayce's leg. "Compliments of the elves?"

"You could say that." Drayce said curtly. "We succeeded."

"Where is it?" Zathrian asked.

"Why would I tell you?" Drayce asked, barely restraining himself from scoffing.

Zathrian looked unfazed. "To be fair, I'm the one who told you where it was."

"Vaguely. We still had to figure out the exact location and almost got killed countless times." Drayce said spitefully.

"Yes, but you knew it was going to be dangerous." Zathrian said.

Drayce didn't answer. He knew Zathrian was right. He regretted going after the Sword of Amasar. Though he couldn't accurately say anything until he saw payoff, if there was payoff.

"Why are you here?" Drayce asked sharply. "Things aren't going to go well for you if you're seen."

"I need your confirmation that you are all in, Mystic. The consequences of our endeavor will most likely be dire." Zathrian replied. Drayce could see the man's eyes shifting under his cloak.

Drayce didn't answer right away. Was he all in? He knew the right answer. But he didn't want to risk the one's he loved any more than he had already. But on the other hand, he didn't want to see his kingdom crash and burn around him. It really was a conundrum. If he helped Zathrian and defeated Keir, they all could die. If he didn't do anything, then they would all certainly die.

Drayce cleared his throat. "Yes I am. Though I'm afraid, we won't be able to train further until my leg is healed."

Zathrian nodded, standing. "We'll be in contact soon." he said and left.

Drayce's question died on his lips. He wouldn't have asked it anyways. He almost asked how he could help Lillia, but he wasn't even sure if there was something wrong, he may just be reading too much into the scenario. And anyways, shouldn't Zathrian be the last person he should ask? The man unfortunately had too much experience with corruption, but he obviously didn't know much more than Drayce on the matter.

He still didn't trust Zathrian. He was rotten to the core, Keir's corruption or not. He showed up flaunting his "good intentions", wanting to defeat Keir, but Drayce didn't buy it. He was still trying to figure out what his true intentions were. He didn't think for a second that they were good in any sense of the word.

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