Page 99 of The Moon Blessed King
‘You were a king. You led your people to their deaths. You were not a good king. It is time for something else.’ There is a breakfast table in Gillage’s room. Two chairs only. Alest glances at Elician, but Elician has no intention of sitting anywhere near Gillage. He easily leans against the wall at one end of the room as Alest settles into the closest chair. ‘Sit,’ he commands his brother once more. Gillage sits. For all his bluff and bluster, he is still, surprisingly, just a child. A child who has lost everything he held dear and is now stranded at the mercy of those he tormented. Elician doesn’t envy him. He hopes that one day he will not even have to think of him. He never wants to see Gillage again if he can avoid it. Sooner or later, he knows that’s exactly what will happen. They will outlive him. Eventually, they will move on.
Alest asks Gillage questions of state, things that a king should know but Alest has never been able to learn. Farming, taxation, important ports of trade and commerce. He asks about the plague and Gillage scowls and does his best to obfuscate. ‘Where is Eline de Carsay?’ he asks as well. Elician’s fingers dig into the tender skin ofhis crossed arms. He glares down his nose at Gillage and waits for the answer. They have searched all of Alerae. They found her office, clean and neat and tidy with no evidence of either the pendants or Elician’s time under her care. They found her assigned rooms, empty and free of all her belongings.
‘Glaika,’ Gillage replies. ‘She wanted to consult some researcher in the south. She left months ago.’
‘Months…around when Altas was attacked, then?’ Alest asks.
‘What does it matter? Call her back if you care that much about her.’ Elician has rarely had an opportunity to speak with anyone from his mother’s homeland. Adalei served as an ambassador there for several years, though. He can make use of contacts to conduct a search.
It will take time, but, ‘We’ll find her,’ he swears to Alest. He will find her and hold her accountable for everything she caused. One way or another.
‘Why did she even make those pendants?’ Alest asks Gillage.
‘Mother told her to,’ Gillage mutters mutinously.
‘Mother? Not you?’
‘Since when did anyone listen to me? Even when I had the crown…’ Gillage huffs, crossing his arms. ‘Mother thought if no one could die to Reapers then no one would fear you for being the freak you are.’
It almost sounds like the kind of twisted logic that would emerge from that woman, Elician thinks as he watches Alest nodding slowly, taking in the information with a pinched expression. Gillage likely embellished the reasoning, his bias and hatred slipping into the crevices where perhaps Alenée would have demonstrated if not love then decorum. But when Alest speaks next, it is not to follow up on Gillage’s declaration. Rather, to ask: ‘What do you want done with Nured?’, and that catches Elician off guard.
Nured, as far as Elician knows, has been remanded to his quarters. Neither of them wants to see the man milling about. Elician wasperfectly content with the idea of tossing Nured into the empty Reaper cells and leaving him to die. Clearly that isn’t something Alest has any interest in pursuing. But to askGillage? Now, like this?
Gillage stares at Alest dumbly, then flicks his wrist. ‘Whatever you want. He’syourattack dog now, isn’t he? Aren’t they all?King?’
‘No,’ Alest says. ‘I won’t use him for that.’ He’s watching his brother with such an intense focus, Elician feels as though he’s missed something pivotal here. It’s not the time or place to ask, but he wants to, badly. ‘I intend to have him executed,’ Alest continues. ‘But if you want him to stay with you—’
‘Kill him. What do I care?’ Gillage snaps. He slumps down in his chair as if utterly unbothered by the suggestion. But there is something more there. Elician reaches out with his senses, feels Gillage’s accelerated heartbeat in his mind, the flush of hormones that translate to emotions of relief.
‘All right,’ Alest murmurs. ‘I will.’ Then, finally, with great solemnity, Alest asks, ‘Why did you send the Reapers to slaughter Altas?’ Gillage shrugs his shoulders. ‘No, tell me. Tell me plainly. Why did you send those Reapers to slaughter Altas?’
‘Can’t be a war if everybody’s dead,’ Gillage mumbles. ‘With those pendants…none of our people would die and we could win, then we never would have had to fight again. And everyone would be happy.’
‘Except everyone in Soleb.’
‘But they’re the bad guys. Who cares if a whole city of theirs ends up dead?’
Oh.Alest’s lips part, his eyes widen, and Elician sees the exact moment Alest realizes he will need to break this news to a boy too naïve to know better. Alest is quiet, gentle. He doesn’t want to cause pain.
‘Have you heard about the city of Endura?’ Alest asks.
Gillage frowns, nose scrunching on his elfin face.
‘Death came to Endura after Altas was destroyed. And she killed everyone there.’
Gillage recoils. He presses his spine against the back of his chair. The blood leaches from his face until he is as white as the marble of Death’s statue.
He shakes his head. Tears bead in his eyes. ‘That’s…that’s not my fault.’
‘A city of your own people for a city of theirs. That was the balance created.’
‘But…but that’s not fair. That’s not…no, I didn’t…’ He thrusts a finger at Elician. ‘You brought Altas back, so it’s not fair!’
‘You were willing to let my people die for nothing,’ Elician replies savagely. ‘Now yours have. Because ofyou.’
‘That’s notfair!’
‘It isn’t,’ Alest agrees quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’
