∷ Chapter 51 ∷

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CLARA'S LIFE HAD fallen into a mundane routine following her return to Farrador. For the most part, her days were spent with Zephyr, who made it a point to, rather uncharacteristically, fuss over her well-being despite Maya being on her beck and call.

Although she would often portray annoyance at being treated with a kind of fragility she wasn't used to, she was grateful for the company nonetheless. But Zephyr was a demon with status and even he had responsibilities he could not defer for extended periods.

And so, the day finds Clara alone with her thoughts as she stared at the open window, her mind lost in a faraway place. The silence was nice for a change.

But just as the haziness of sleep started crowding the edges of her mind, she heard the door click open, a sign that her moment of quietude was lost. She assumed her visitor to be Zephyr but was surprised to find someone she least expected.

"Your Majesty," she said, the surprise evident in her voice as well as her face.

The king closed the door behind him as he ventured further into the room, stopping by the bed. He had a solemn expression on his face—lips set in a grim line and brows furrowed over his eyes. Clara's shock, on the other hand, had since turned to annoyance. And though she was curious as to the king's unprecedented visit, she remained quiet, forcing him to break the silence first.

It took a moment before he finally did, saying, "How are you feeling?"

He sounded tired, his voice gravelly and soft, the hint of concern she'd detected not quite a facade as she'd assumed it to be.

"I'm fine," she said.

In truth, she wasn't particularly keen on having a conversation with him, her opinions having determined her dislike towards him. Still, she couldn't bring herself to outrightly tell him to leave. She'd be lying if she claimed she wasn't interested in anything he had to say to her. If he had anything to say, that is.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, sighing. She knew if she didn't say something, neither would he, and a prolonged silence was exactly the kind of situation she was trying to avoid.

"To see you."

His response was abrupt, bringing an end to the conversation even before it started as the silence stretched on to the point of aggravation. She glanced at him, only to notice he was lost in thought, seemingly finding solace in her company.

Just when she assumed he had nothing else to say, he exhaled, shoulders slumping in apparent defeat.

"I never wanted to kill anyone."

The confession came as a surprise and even more so when he continued by saying, "I had no intentions of starting a war with Heaven."

"But you sent Marek to spy on us," Clara said.

"I did," he agreed. "I had no idea you were planning to assassinate the general until I discovered that the weapon had been stolen. By then it was too late to retrieve it so I feigned ignorance and instead sent Marek to tail you. I knew sneaking into Heaven would give the angels a reason to wage war against us so the only option was to stop you from leaving the Underworld. As long as you were under my jurisdiction, the laws of the agreement cannot be overruled and the angels have no basis to interfere. But, of course, nothing ever goes according to plan."

He paused to collect his thoughts before continuing.

"As a last resort, I sent Marek after you, knowing you wouldn't turn him away. I instructed him to use the disc by any means necessary to get you back to the Underworld but I was too late."

"And Lucan?" Clara asked, unable to grasp the logic behind the king's explanation.

"Lucan is my trusted aide and one of the few demons capable of traversing the shadow realm. Naturally, I'd send him to retrieve everyone and put them back where they rightfully belong."

"This is where I belong, then?" Clara asked with clear disdain in her voice. "In the Underworld where you can use me as your pawn?"

"I admit, I did bring you here to make you my heir. But it was also to protect you from the general's contractual claim. I never wanted or needed, you to be a demon. Although I cannot deny the convenience of you being one of us."

There was a lilt in his tone that gave away the fact that he knew she was no longer human. A silent understanding on the matter ceased the admittance of the realisation as the conversation came to a sudden close. The anger she thought she felt towards him had simmered and died. She no longer saw a tyrannical demon king in him, only the reflection of a man worn out by the consequences of his actions.

After a moment's contemplation, she asked, "What becomes of me now?"

Luther was dead, the contract on all fronts had been nulled and void, and she was a demon now. It was clear even to her that there was no going back to her old life. The Clara Avery she once was on the Surface no longer existed. She didn't know who she was, or what she was supposed to do. Worse still, she didn't know if she even had a place in the world, as confused as she was at the moment.

"I'm sorry," the king said. "The Avero blood is a curse I had to bear and it is now yours to endure."

Clara stared at him, an unspoken fear clinging to her as throngs of anxiety forced their way down her throat.

"I don't understand," she said, wincing at the way her voice sounded choked and uneasy.

"I can no longer protect you; if my actions could even be deemed as a means of protection in the first place."

"What are you talking about?" Clara urged, exasperated.

"You are an Avero, Claretta. You must rule. You were made to rule. The Crown behests your rulership . . . More so now that you have become one of us."

The king stood, leaving her to dwell on the meaning behind his words.

"Take care of yourself," he said.

"Why did you come here to see me?" Clara asked before he could leave.

Keeping his back to her, the king said, "I told you, I came to see you."

"Why did you come here?" she repeated through gritted teeth.

The moment stretched on as the king debated on outing the truth. He shifted on his feet and turned a fraction, enough to be heard clearly, but not so that they'd be able to see eye to eye.

"I came to say goodbye."

The void between them became almost suffocating before she could bring herself to say, "What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

"This is my goodbye, Claretta," he repeated. "I'm glad we had a nice conversation."

He paused, weighing his next words carefully.

"You are what the Underworld needs. Not me."

The king pulled the door open a crack but was stopped by her anguished cry.

"You can't just leave. I don't know anything about ruling a kingdom. You can't be this selfish. We're meant to be family!"

The king froze upon hearing her words, a ghost of a smile finding its way to his lips.

"Perhaps, next time, we might meet again," he said.

And with those final words, the king stepped outside and disappeared even before the door clicked shut behind him, leaving Clara alone with her growing state of confusion.

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