Fate and Destiny (The Fated Series, #2)

Chapter 64 - Darius - It Begins

"Darius? Darius!"

"What?" I look up, finding Lance and Garrison looking down at me with furrowed brows.

I zoned out again.

It's been happening a lot recently. People will be talking, either to me or amongst themselves, and my mind will just go blank. It's not the whole zoning out where I start thinking about other things and get distracted, but the one where there's literally nothing. I just tune everything out and stare blankly in front of me.

I know I've done it today more than before, likely because I saw Clarice today. She was so...frail. Not as thin and sickly as she was a cycle ago, but she still looked ghostly. She felt ghostly. My power tugged towards her as it usually does, but that wasn't what had me standing so still. It was her eyes. They recognized me, yet at the same time, they never found me.

She wore clothes that she'd normally fill out perfectly in every way, and the coat she wore with the feather lining made her look regal despite the still thinness of her. I didn't want to look at her, just as I do not wish to think of her, and yet she was still there. She never said a word whilst we stood across from her in the hallways, but a part of me knows that it was best that we didn't. We all might've cracked had we heard it, heard the words we've only imagined hearing before. At least, they would've cracked, I'm already fucked up as is.

And yet you still feel spiderweb cracks slowly forming the longer you think about her, a voice says in my head.

"Darius." My eyes snap back up to Lance.

Shit. I did it again.

"Are you alright?" Garrison asks, reaching out a hand towards me as if to catch me if I fall out of my chair.

I hate this chair, hate the gold paint I've been picking at, hate the matching carved desk in front of me filled with papers. Reports, things that need signing, things that I need to decide, all piling up as the day goes on. This used to be my father's desk. He would sit in this chair and go through each pile while I would play with whatever toy I had found the most interesting that day. All these memories and Clarice doesn't even have one.

"Maybe we should have Tanith put him to sleep." My eyes shoot back up again, and I mentally stab myself for zoning out. Again.

"No, no. I'm fine. I'm fine," I insist when they both open their mouths to suggest otherwise. "What were you saying?"

"Lord Roland is waiting outside," Garrison answers slowly, still considering the Tanith option. "He wants to talk to you. About your father."

Right. My father. The father who left after crowning me King without a single instruction as to what the hell I'm supposed to be doing. I suppose my lack of understanding on the job is partially my fault, as I always chose to be menacing to learn the duties I'd inherit. Still, he left, gave Roland a letter that said my claim to the throne was legitimate and rightfully given, and disappeared again. Who knows when he'll resurface again - if he resurfaces again.

I glance at the clock on the mantel, reading it somewhere around six-thirty. Gods and their Saints it's been five hours sitting in this chair. I shift in my seat once, trying to find a position that doesn't make my butt feel hard as stone. "Send him in."

They both hesitate to move, and I rub at my temples until Garrison leaves to go get Roland.

"Darius-"

"I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine, heathens, you definitely don't look fine."

"Lance-"

"When are you going to let us in? Not confiding in me, I get it, I haven't known you as long as the others, but the Bhaltayr, Darius...they've known you most of your life. Locking everything within yourself will only destroy you further - I mean, look what it did to your father. You can't shut people out, not when you need them the most. Not when they need you the most. They're family, Darius, you don't push away family. Believe me when I say that having more family to help you through the rough times, is better than having no family to lean on."