“Watch it,” I said, scowling at him.
A spark of humor flashed across Roccurem’s face, gone as quickly as it came. He had changed after Dianna released him from the prison Unir created for him, and I wondered just how deep that change went. They had grown close, that closeness making me a jealous fool at first, but then I was envious of anyone or anything that claimed her attention. I sighed and ran a hand across my head before sitting behind the large desk, frowning at the accumulation of scrolls, worn books, and scattered pages littering the wooden surface. I had spent so many hours researching houses and their descendants. Now, it all mocked me and my failed attempts at order and peace.
“You gave my father counsel before. One of the many reasons he locked you away, yes?”
Reggie stared at me, blinking only once before answering. “Yes.”
“I need that now.”
He glanced at the ceiling before looking back at me. His face drew distant. “Your scent is so entwined with hers, yet here you pace while she sleeps. You’re upset.”
“To put it lightly,” I sighed, “specters haunt the love of my life, one of them my dead father. My family is lost, brainwashed, and being used as weapons. The ones I have managed torescueare locked up in my dungeon, still suffering. Every attempt I have made to communicate with the seven remaining realms has failed. No matter that I speak of peace and a life free of her tyranny, the lords and ladies either deny my request to meet, threaten outright aggression, or are horrifically rude. In all cases, they have made it abundantly clear they have no intention of switching sides. Isaiah, while annoying, may be correct. My return means nothing. So, yes, I am upset.”
Reggie nodded and sat in one of the two chairs before the desk. He relaxed, placing his hands on his crossed legs.
“I’m supposed to be this beacon of hope, give people peace upon my arrival, yet … I’m an utter disappointment,” I said. “Maybe Isaiah is right. Maybe I am a failure.”
Reggie shook his head and cast his eyes upward again. “If the woman sleeping above heard how you’re speaking of yourself, she would grind the creature in the dungeon to ash or some other nefarious act I can’t fathom to prove her love and your worth.”
I smiled, tapping my knuckles on the armchair. He was right. Dianna’s protectiveness of me equaled what I felt for her.
“You see it differently than it should be,” Reggie said, drawing my attention back to him.
“How should I see it?”
“They follow your sister out of fear and respect, not love as they did your father.”
My knuckles tapped against my desk. “Yet I am treated with such hostility. It’s as if these realms aren’t coated in my family’s blood. In both their creation and protection, we bled for them.”
“Another reason they are sworn so faithfully to her, but it’s not the only one,” Reggie said, staring at me.
Resting my elbow on the arm of my chair, I sighed and rubbed my hand across my face. “I don’t know what I expected when the gates opened with my death, but it wasn’t this. I thought perhaps the realms would be in turmoil, or maybe that there would be nothing left at all.”
“A lot has passed between the stars while you were locked away.”
“Which was not my fault,” I said. “I didn’t leave on purpose, nor did I know where I would end up when I destroyed Rashearim.”
“I know.”
“Maybe I should have tried harder to come back. That is my fault.”
Reggie’s eyes softened. “You are a young king who has merely started.”
I huffed a laugh. “Young? You’re about a few hundred years too late to describe me as young, Roccurem.”
“Time is measured by mortals. Their lives are brief, and each day is precious. Time doesn’t have the same meaning for immortals. You have barely begun, my liege. Everything is happening as it was meant to. To dwell on the what ifs or what could have been will not affect what is now and what is to come.”
My finger slid across my chin as I studied him. My father had locked him away because not only did his visions predict what was to come, but he used them to help those he was not supposed to. He was meant to watch and relay, not shape or change. Yet, here I was, asking him for help. It was impossible to force a fate to do anything. Reggie risked everything because he believed in something better. Or, perhaps, it is the dark-haired vixen who owns my very soul he breaks the rules for.
“Have your visions gotten better?”
Reggie blinked. “Still the same as before, my liege. Scattered words and images that are far too blurry to perceive.”
“Perhaps in time they will get better, return fully even,” I said, dropping my hands in my lap.
“Perhaps,” Reggie agreed.
I fidgeted with my wedding band as another thought crossed my mind.
