There were some like Anwar’s lover who might never return to their bodies and, worse, not return to the Wheel to be reborn again. They would be lost forever. Now that was a far harsher sentence than anything the Behemoth would receive from the Dragons in return for its evil.
Is there just punishment enough for what it has done? Valerius wondered as he blew on his hands once more and rubbed them brutally. And Jasper… What will I do with him? If Chione dies, too, then there will be no quarter for him. No mercy! And…
He stopped. She would absolutely hate it if he used her death to hurt someone--no matter how deserving--because she would want him to do something constructive, not destructive.
“Use it as a touchpoint. Make my death mean something good, Valerius. Don’t create more darkness with it,” he imagined her saying and smiling at him.
His chest grew tight and his eyes burned as he thought of her. He pictured her in the throne room. The doors were thrown open to the courtyard and sunlight was streaming in. She wore one of her golden wrap dresses that had elaborate stitching at the hems of palm trees. There were diamonds sewn all over the dress so that it sparkled in the sunlight. She’d be barefoot. A single gold chain would be around her right ankle and another around her left wrist. Gifts he had given her. Of course, she’d have one of her tablets held against her chest as she looked at him with such hope, such belief and such love.
“Make use of my death. Make it into something to help people,” she urged.
“I don’t want to make something bright out of your death! You should be by my side! Making good things happen!” he imagined saying back to her. “I need you, Chione. You’ve always been there to steer me in the right direction.”
He imagined her holding her tablet to her chest and her smile gentling. “You’re wrong, Valerius. You did those things all on your own. I just said the words already in your heart and so you couldn’t deny me.”
“You always gave me too much credit,” he imagined telling her as tears fell down his cheeks. “I would have gone back to my mountain if I hadn’t known you’d have come and dragged me back down.”
“Now who is giving whom too much credit?” She shook her head in amusement. “You have always done what you wanted to do in the end, Valerius. I haven’t been playing queen through you. You’ve always been the one and only ruler.”
He shivered as tears coursed down his bare front. He was so cold and imagining her in a summer frock with no shoes was not making him warmer. Yet try as he might to put her in a long fur coat with huge boots and fuzzy mittens in his mind, she remained in the gauzy, diamond-studded dress with bare toes against the marble floor of the throne room.
“Raziel chose me because I am just as big a cuss as it is,” Valerius growled. “Both of us are bad tempered and misanthropic.”
“Maybe. Or maybe not. Because I haven’t seen hide nor hair of that Valerius or Raziel since Caden and Iolaire arrived.” Her eyes sparkled.
“Well, they are our mates.” He shrugged and then pulled his arms around his knees.
“Just like in the stories. Only better,” she sighed.
He snorted. “You must live to help us put on a ridiculous wedding, Chione. Would you really want to miss that?”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted. “I…”
“Caden thought we could model it after one of that horrible Werewolf movies--”
“Oh…” She looked like she might pass out at the thought. “Oh, really?”
“So if you die then you can’t help plan it,” he pointed out.
She looked stricken and then shook herself. “That’s not important!”
“My wedding is not important to you? Caden’s happiness is not important to you? Come now! I will realize that this is just my imagination and not real if you say that!” Valerius challenged her. “So I--I won’t listen to anything you say about making your death a touchstone or whatever ridiculous thing you’re telling me!”
Of course, this was his imagination. She was still and silent and unmoving.
She blinked. “Valerius, I assure you that you and Caden, Raziel and Iolaire are all the most important to me.”
She put a hand over her heart and he felt the pressure of anguish building inside of him.
“Then you cannot leave,” he said. “You cannot leave if that is true.”
Her head hung down for a moment like a too big blossom on a too slender stem. “I know you think that Raziel chose you because you wanted revenge for your brother’s death--”
“Revenge for all I lost. My family. My friends. My life!” he snarled and wiped tears away. “The whole purpose of my life was gone when they killed my brother just as I found him! Right in front of me! They… they took him. And I could do nothing…”
Just like I can do nothing for you, Chione, Valerius added silently.
“Yes, yes, exactly. I think Raziel chose you because you understand loss,” she said, nodding as she began to pace the throne room. “You understand the cost of war and strife. How much loss will result. So it’s always made you careful with the powers Raziel gave to you. It’s caused you to use them only when necessary. And that’s made you a great king.”
