Word Count: 1778

~Avila

I stumble back a step, shock stealing all the feeling from my body.

My father is lying dead on the floor at my feet. The King...

"Ah...Vade?" I cast my gaze back up to my mate, my husband, and now my father's murderer.

He looks far to calm. Nothing in his expression would allude to what just happened, which is all the more disturbing.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Avila," he murmurs, setting the knife down on a side table to his left. "But now was the perfect time."

"The perfect time to murder my father?" I can't entirely believe what I'm witnessing, or what's even coming out of my mouth. I'm so numb, unable to comprehend that the man lying on the floor face down is actually my father.
 
"Trust me, he had it coming." Vade surveys his bloodied hands distastefully. "I'm going to frame his personal guard."

I blink. Frame? How can he be thinking about anything right now? I can't even get my mind to catch up.

The man on the floor is barely my father. I feel no emotional connection to him, but I know what just happened is not okay.

"You can't do that," I hiss, looking toward the closed door.

"He beats every new guard to a pulp as a form of hazing," Vade tells me, nudging a vase until it tips over. "He will finally be paying his penance."

I watch him, bewildered, as he stages a scene of struggle. He tosses some cushions on the floor and even tilts a painting off kilter.

"W...why did you kill my father?"
 
"Come, let's go out this way," he motions to the side door. "I'll explain everything once we are in private."

He offers his hand to me, but I just stare it down. My father's blood stains his skin, almost seeming like a permanent part of him. He seems to realise, pulling his hand back quickly.

"Please let me explain, Avila..." He murmurs, backing toward the door.

"Alright."

I follow him from the room because I can't think of anything else to do. I thought I knew Vade, trusted him. There has to be a reason why he stabbed my father so ruthlessly.

We stalk quickly up the stairs and to our shared bedroom here. He sweeps into the bathroom to scrub his hands and forearms clean while I sit on the edge of the bed awkwardly.

"We won't have much time to talk before they realise what happened," Vade says as he emerges from the bathroom. "But they will believe us, don't worry."

His hands are clean, but there are still splatters of blood on his shirt. They may be small, and his shirt may be black, but I can still tell.

I gape at him. "Don't worry? You killed my father!"

"I've been planning to for some time now." He folds his arms over his chest, speaking like this is nothing more than a conversation about what meal we plan to eat together later.

"Why?"

"He is a bad man, and he wasn't a good father to you," he explains, his eyes darkening. "He is destroying this territory, turning the people against him. Against you."

I frown. "The people have turned against me for their own reasons."

"The rumour about dark magic is only resonating with people because of a deep mistrust for your family. It was far worse before you died," he explains.

I let out a long breath. Yet another missing link in my mind. Roel has been careful with what he has told me about the history of my family. I have no idea how people felt about me and my father before I died.

"It was?"

"There was threats of revolution in the year leading up to your death. It wasn't just Emerick's rebellion that was plaguing the area. There were many others." Vade's mouth settles into a solemn line.

"What stopped it?"
 
"Your death, or sickness, in their eyes. People were so rattled at the lack of an heir, of uncertainty." He slides his hands into his pockets. "They realised they had gotten what they wanted, but it wasn't truly what they wanted."

I shake my head. This is far too much to wrap my head around when I'm still reeling from watching my father be murdered right in front of me.

"What does this have to do with my father?" I question, gripping the duvet cover tightly.
 
"People blame you for a lot for your fathers actions. You are going to have no chance to prove yourself in the wake of everything that he has done." He starts pacing, rubbing the back of his neck.

As usual, he's withholding something. I know we don't have time for a full run down of my father's history as King, but I need to know at least some of the reason why he did that.

"What has he done?" I ask warily.

"As a leader, he's performed poorly, prioritising all the wrong things. He's been cutting off access to certain resources at the edges of the territory, for example. He claims he's cutting off dead weight, but he's starving people. Due to them being so isolated, no news has gotten out about it yet, but it will." He runs a hand through his hair, his shoulders tense.

I let that information settle over me. The way Vade speaks makes it obvious there is so much more to this then he wants to divulge right now.

"He's starving people?" The words taste sour on my tongue.

"He would rather do that then concede more territory, or focus on plans to resolve the issue."

I wrap my arms around myself. I knew he wasn't a good father, but I didn't think he was a bad King. Then again, no one here would tell me otherwise, and Emerick never got the chance to let me in.

Not that I would have believed anything he said anyway.

"What else has he done?" I ask shakily.

"He..." Vade drifts off, grimacing.

The hairs on the back of my neck immediately stand up. He's hesitating, which means whatever he is holding back isn't good.

"What? Tell me," I insist, standing.

Vade pauses, but when I give him a sharp stare, he relents. "He contributed in your death."

"Me being sick?" I frown.

He gives me a flat look. "I think we both know you were never sick, Avila."

My stomach twists. Accepting that I was sick has been the hardest hurtle for me to jump over. It just never felt right. Whatever the truth is, however, has been something everyone has felt the need to dodge around.

"What happened?" I ask, feeling the urge to reach out and grab him, but I refrain. "I've been desperate to know for so long."

"It's not exactly something that is easy to hear." He rubs the back of his neck.

"I was murdered, wasn't I?" A cold sense of dread drapes over me. I've been considering the notion, but I never gave it a voice before.
 
Vade winces again. "Not exactly..."

"Tell me, Vade," I snap.

"It's a long story, and the day everything happened was very complicated." He shifts from foot to foot.

I roll my eyes. "Just tell me."

"You took your own life. But like I said, it was complicated."

He may as well have just slapped me in the face. That was the last thing I expected him to tell me.

"Wait...seriously?"
 
"No one wanted to tell you because they were all scared it would encourage you to do it again." He steps forward, ready to console me the moment I need it. "I knew that wasn't true, that it wasn't something you wanted to do. They made me promise to keep it from you, though."

I delve my fingers into my hair, pressing them against my scalp. This has only made everything more confusing.

"Why would I take my own life? Was I sad?" I ask.

"No. Your father found out about the rebellion and was going to torture you for information," he explains. "You made sure that didn't happen, I guess."

I take a step back. "I was that loyal to the rebellion?"

I was getting hurt by Emerick, and I still cared about the rebellion? Either I felt strongly about the cause, or something else was going on.

"I don't know all the details. I only found this out from Roel, who found it out from a guard who is loyal to him," he tells me softly, scanning my face for any indication that I'm going to break.

As hard as it is to hear, I'm not upset about it. I'm more confused than anything.
 
"I need to know what happened." I throw my hands up. "Now I can't because you killed him."

"He would never tell you the truth anyway," Vade reminds me quickly. "I'm not sure you will want to know everything that happened that day. For you to take you own life, your headspace may not have been in a place you want to return to."

I rub my arm, nodding slowly. He's not wrong.

The man lying dead downstairs is nothing more than a stranger to me. Part of me was dedicated to a rebellion, that ended my life to preserve its secrets. All because of my father.

Even in my confusion, I know that has to mean something.

"I can't believe you killed him..." I whisper.

He steps forward, bracing both hands on either arm. I let him touch me, even after what he has done. I crave his comfort, his presence. Even after everything.

"It had to be done. Things can't continue as they are." He brushes a knuckle over my cheek, gazing down at me with a beautiful softness in his eyes.

The sound of a door slamming followed by commotion sounds from downstairs. Vade sighs, dropping his arm.

"I think they finally found him."

I back toward the door, knowing we are going to have to face this at some point. "Let's go."

Vade pauses, giving me a long look. "What are you going to tell them?"

"Nothing," I sigh. "You're right. Things can't continue on as they are. And he wasn't really my father anyway."

Vade swallow thickly, but nods, following after me.

The King is dead. And now, I'm closer to being the Queen than ever before.

🖤••🖤

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