Page 85 of Morfran, Dark Lord Reformed

Ravana shrugged, still casually holding her goblet. She said to Morfran, “You seemed restless here, dear.” Gueldefore frowned at this, but she continued. “I couldn’t help but take a few precautions in case you slipped away. I’m glad I did, for it helped me track you when you left. And I’d enchanted the right item, too, because like I said before, you are one vain man.”

It clicked. Morfran looked at Gueldefore’s legs. “You enchanted my pants to track me?” Of course she did, and of course he was too egocentric to simply ditch them on the side of the road. They could’ve avoided a lot of pain if he’d just done that. As it were, Morfran was his own worst enemy. As always.

He shook his head and raised his blade. It was time to get this over with. “I’ve come to—”

“Kill her?” Gueldefore interrupted. “No, you foul wretch. It is I who will kill you.” He held up his own sword, a fancy new thing with a red bloodstone in the center, just like Morfran’s old one.

“All right,” Morfran huffed, out of patience with him already. “Can you wait? I’m trying to speak with my ex-wife.”

“Do move, Gueldie. I want to know what he has to say.” Ravana waggled her fingers.

Gueldie? Morfran mouthed, giving her a long-suffering look.

He’s a rebound, she mouthed back.

A terrible one, he replied, before saying, “Ravana, I haven’t come to kill you. At least not yet. Not if you agree to step down from the throne and pay for your crimes.”

The room echoed with her laughter. “You want to lecture me? Have you paid for your crimes, Morfran? All those heads you severed from their owners’ bodies, have you apologized to them yet? Sewn them back on, waved your fingers and told them to rise from the dead, and sent them on their merry ways?”

“I’ve been trying to pay for what I did.”

“Ha!” barked Gueldefore. “No, you haven’t. You’ve just been parading around with the rebels because you liked the attention they gave you. You liked the attention that Bronwen gave you. That made me sick, watching you flirt with her like a schoolboy.”

“I never did that.”

“It is I, Gueldefore, who deserved their attention—”

“Sit down, Gueldefore,” Ravana urged with a sharp tone. The knight’s jaw snapped shut, and he grumpily plopped on the seat like a three-year-old who’d been told he was to have no dessert. “Now, what were you saying? You were trying to convince me to become good?”

Morfran started up the dialogue again. “Look. The rebels have taken the majority of the kingdom back, all under your watch. They’ve taken Lestershire and Mestershire and are probably advancing towards Warchester as we speak. You’ve proven to us and yourself that you can’t rule as I once did, and I’m clearly not coming back to join your side. Step down, Ravana. You’ve already lost. I promise I won’t let you be killed when they come. I might even be able to swing you a country estate to live on if you surrender now.”

She smiled tightly, the makeup powder along her eyes embedding in her wrinkles. “I loathe the country. Far too much dirt. And the rooster crowing only makes me want to strangle it, and then myself.”

“An estate in the city.”

“The only ones worth my time are those with great shopping, and you aren’t going to let me stay in Warshire, are you?”

“An estate along the sea, then,” he replied, growing more irritated.

“Even just staring at the ocean makes me seasick, Morf. You know this.”

He lost his patience. “Then I’ll tie you to a firework and blast you to the moon!”

She blinked before fluttering her eyes up towards the ceiling with a smirk. “The moon? The moon doesn’t have catering, dearest.”

Morfran brought his hands up to his face. He’d forgotten just how annoying she could be when she got in one of her moods, which was all the time. “I’m giving you options, Ravana. To do something good again in your life. Don’t you remember being that person before? You were so kind, so generous—”

“—so silly, so naive, so powerless,” she finished, saying it in a low voice to mock him. “I love what I am now. Why’re you trying so hard to change me? Why’re you trying so hard to turn me good?”

“Because there is an entire army beelining towards the castle to come drag you outside and hang you, all right?” Morfran shouted. “I’m being good right now, trying to save your life. See how being good can benefit you in a roundabout way?”

She tapped her lips, accidentally smearing her lipstick. Then she dropped her hands. “You were so much more attractive when you were beheading people. Truly, it is a shame.”

“Ravana—”

“What’s next, Morfran? Are you going to use the power of friendship to make me regret all my horrid decisions?”

“Well, it—it worked for me—” he stammered.