“Let him go, he didn’t do it. If you want someone to pay for their crimes, it should be me!”
This gave Nevari pause, and he turned back to look at Leander, and came to stand over him with a cold expression. “Did you kill my father?”
Leander, breathing out a small sigh of relief that he had Nevari’s ear, but taken aback by the sudden accusing question, vehemently denied it with a shake of his head. “The king died of natural causes.”
“That is not what my physicians say. Poison.”
Tension gripped the room as Leander continued to deny it, though he was now questioning what he had been told by Machus, back when he first suggested the nefarious idea to the demigod. “I… don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t. The God of Lies, unable to discern the truth of a lie of his own invention, he says. Maybe I should let you live. Maybe I should parade you through Eslirie… let you sniff out the truth of the matter.”
“I… can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” Nevari’s accusatory gaze shifted from Leander to Jarryn and he opened his mouth wide. “Ah yes, Jarryn did mention… youhaveno divine powers. Your lie to me, however fantastical, will be your last. Take them.”
Pulled upwards, Leander attempted a weak effort to hinder the guards securing his hands behind his back.
“Jarryn is the rightful king! Have you not been listening to a word I have said? He didn’t commit the crime you’re executing him for.”
Nevari’s cool blue gaze, so like Jarryn’s in many ways, fell on the demigod again. “Ask me if I care what you have to say.”
“This is wrong! It’s your job to care, as king you should be seeking out the truth of this, not executing the wrong man!”
“Your breath would be better spent saying goodbye,” Nevari said coldly. “Actually... gag him. We don’t need his shouts disturbing the whole camp.”
“Nevari—”
The Desannian king raised a hand to silence his brother, but he continued to stare at the demigod.
“I would have liked to have given you a chance to adjust to the life in Eslirie and enjoy freedom once again, but I canfeelthat is not an option for either of us. Choose your last words now or die with nothing for anyone to remember you by.”
Chapter Forty
Mounted on horseback, with his hands secured behind his back, Leander’s thighs were aching with the effort of staying atop the horse. Fortunately they were walking at a comfortably sedate pace, which meant it was relatively easy to maintain his balance.
The twenty minutes of riding west were almost over, Leander guessed. The proverbial clock ticking towards their inevitable demise.
The gag in Leander’s mouth had started to make his jaw ache. But the pain in his heart was more palpable. He could not use this time to explain himself to Jarryn, who had done nothing but keep his cold, hard stare fixed straight in front of him.
It was cruel, really, to have them ride side by side. So close, yet the distance was utterly unacceptable to the demigod.
The one time Jarryn did glance at Leander, he didn’tknow if the prince was looking at him with… sadness, hate, fear, scorn? Maybe it was just indifference. But without Aesthesia, he was no better off in knowing how to tackle Jarryn’s silence.
Twenty minutes of riding to his doom gave Leander the chance for a lot of thinking. But not until it was too late and everything was already falling apart. Slowly moving forward on his guided horse with eight guards surrounding them, he had no semblance of a plan. He had no notion of what it would really take to right the wrongs of his admittedly short, but extremely destructive, life.
“We have each other.” They had said to each other, mere days ago.
What a fucking joke.
His life was crashing down around him. Crashing and burning and he was alone, no one there to catch him as he fell. And he had only himself to blame.
It was a good thing Leo was gagged: Jarryn’s rage and hurt was apparently too much for words. There was nothing more that Leander could say, nothing that could fix this.
“That’s far enough,” one of Nevari’s guards said and all of the horses stopped.
The soldiers dismounted first and two went to each of the condemned prisoners. Leander allowed himself to be pulled from the horse, valiantly trying not to hyperventilate at the thought of his fast approaching death.
Where, by the Nine, was Verin?
