The Unfortunate, стр. 80

“TELL ME NOW!”

“And do you know what plagues your mind, Beadurof?”

The king refused to answer and again began to run as his wife’s maniacal laughter interspersed with taunts echoed behind him.

“Your first born. Your true heir. Dead, and it is all your doing. Your first born. Your true heir. Dead, and it is all your doing. Your first born. Your true heir. Dead, and it is all your doing.”

✽ ✽ ✽

My first born. My true heir. Dead, and it is all my doing. Why? Beadurof had fled from Caberton Keep even though a storm was approaching. Despite this the king continued to progress, and from time to time, he would glance quickly to where he had been. It was not entirely due to a concern of being followed. He wanted to know how far he was from the city, and satisfied that he had retreated to a safe distance, he knelt and deliberated what would occur next.

Having been raised in a monarchial society and having been the eldest son, he had known what was expected of him as his father’s heir. Strength, honor, and obedience. These virtues had been tested and judged. He had proven himself worthy and had been acclaimed the leader of Armania. Like his forefathers he had honored the King’s Creed. A king is strong when all are weak. His is the advice others seek. He is the one who cannot fail. For he will betray his people.

During the years of his reign, Beadurof had tried to be strong and wise, but to an extent he had betrayed both his people and himself. His strength had failed at times, and his wisdom had faltered. He had regrets he would do anything to amend, but his future had been determined. It was uncertain how he would be remembered. I have risen to power, yes, but what have I done? Despite numerous battles, I have never conquered another king. That, however, had led to years of peace, and I have kept my people safe, but at what cost and to whom? He was convinced it had been himself. Although arguments could be offered, the king had lost greatly. Among his losses were a wife and her love, if she had ever truly been his. After having learned of her betrayal, Beadurof had hoped she had once afforded him the slightest amount of love, but he knew she had not. Marlisa had called herself his wife, but her heart had always belonged to another.

And then he had lost Banan. Though they had not always seemed to understand one another, and though the young man had been responsible for numerous questionable acts, he had still been a Prince of Armania, and he had also been of the same blood that flowed through Beadurof. Fate had yet to unleash absolute cruelty upon the king.

There is little more I can do. It is for Fate to decide. The physician’s words returned as Beadurof’s thoughts concluded. The greatest loss had been Awiergan, his true heir. The son he had never known was gone, and it was his fault and his alone. To an extent what Marlisa had implied had been true. He had been a fool. Hate has blinded me, and now there is nothing I can do! The idea of everything he had lost was unbearable, and to be reminded that it was primarily his doing was even more agonizing. It was a burden of guilt he could take no longer, and the king took a deep breath, reached for his belt, and unsheathed his dagger. But soon I shall be at peace. He put the blade to his neck, closed his eyes, and smiled.