Luka
Never in a zillion years did I think I’d be the one solely responsible for the entirety of Dullahan. Such an enormous burden shouldn’t be entrusted to a mere Common fey like me, and while I was grateful for the show of faith that Baz had in me, it did little to calm my anxiety. How many times had I watched over my friend’s shoulders while he worked tirelessly hunched over mounds of papers? I’d never envied him, but I respected him a bit more after having to do it myself.
He had named me regent moments before departing on yet another adventure with his fiery red-headed companion. And suddenly, I was responsible for the entirety of Dullahan. My parents were probably proud, though I didn’t have the time to visit. Probably wouldn’t have, even if my schedule allowed.
My duties were varied and numerous, ranging from having to field interrogation style questions concerning the type of hydrangea I’d want to use for an upcoming event center piece, to engaging in small talk with the various guards outside the castle walls. Not only did I have to find ways to fill my days without Baz around, but I knew that my time in his stead meant taking on a new role that I was wholly unprepared for.
No wonder he ‘d always been in a foul mood.
His job literally never stopped. As his second in command, I could finish a shift, kick off my boots, and sleep comfortably in my bed at the end of the day. As regent, my time alone was limited. Nothing was sacred.
Not even a delegated bathroom break.
I’d been in my bathing room, minding my own business, when one of the kitchen maids burst through my bedroom and knocked on the door to ask what I wanted for dinner.
“Motherchrist, woman. I’m taking a shit!”
That did not go over well. Emerita scolded me for it later, promising to tell Baz I was letting my new position compromise my once kind heart. Whatever the hell that meant.
Not that he would care. Thinking about anything other than the Driech seemed to have become a distant memory. It consumed him in such a way that it was as if a thick fog loomed over his mind all the time. He didn’t seem to pay attention to much of anything else anymore, and it was an all-encompassing obsession for him.
I had kept the truth of King Solas’ fate hidden from everyone, grateful that Baz trusted me enough to do so without a magickal seal of silence. Of course, it was unlikely that he had planned far enough ahead to have considered it.
He and the Driech had used their magick to change the memories of anybody who was close to the King, making it appear as though he had never been there at all. Then they created some elaborate story about him seeking out something called the Soul of Daphne in the Southern lands, and that he’d asked for a few groups of trackers to join him on his hunt.
I was deeply concerned for Baz. Not only had he gotten involved in some unsavory arrangement with the Dreich and lost Rhen to his brother, but he’d also been dealing with an inner beast that seemed on the verge of losing control over. The combination of these three events started to take a toll on Baz’s mental health; he was beginning to fray at the edges. Each night, his shouts echoed through the halls. His days were filled with fitful naps, and more often than not, he ended the day in isolation.
Some days, he was a vacant shell of a man. Others, he was nothing short of a raging lunatic. He’d departed over a week ago and had yet to return, leaving no indication of when, or even if, he would return.
I had no enthusiasm as I rifled through the first pile of paperwork on Baz’s desk. They were likely mundane, bureaucratic taskings that would require little thought or effort from me. I sighed heavily and picked up a document to skim, my eyes drawn to the tiny print and incomprehensible sections of what seemed like legalese. Why were these things so tedious? It was enough for me to want to bury my head in my hands and wait until the work was gone.
The thought of stepping down occurred to me, but that wouldn’t fly with my new king. As the only person who knew his secret, he kept me on a short leash. If I abandoned my post, he’d see it as a betrayal.
And with his true self deteriorating by the minute, I wasn’t sure what he’d do if I swayed. If killing his own father had come that easily to him, my ass could suffer the same fate.
The sound of hurried footfalls from the corridor outside shook me out of my daze and took my attention away from the tedious paperwork on my desk. Sams, the Second I had appointed myself, came into view in the doorway. I quickly rose from my seat and made to meet him halfway. His face was filled with worry; whatever news he had brought must have been dire for him to be in such a state. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my back to prepare myself for whatever he had come here to tell me.
“My Lord,” He took in deep, shuddering breaths. His goatlike snout trembled, lips pursed and eyes wide with fear.
With darting eyes, I understood the fear behind them. I’d been him once, fighting for the right choice of words to deliver bad news.
“Spit it out, Sams. What happened?”
His throat bobbed as the gravity of his words settled in. He opened his mouth tentatively, taking a deep breath before he spoke.
“Daemons. Someone released them from Hell,” he said with a heavy sigh.