Page 40 of Henrikk’s Secret

“So I gathered. But returning to your story…” He frowned down at his hands. “Are you telling me that on the night of that festival, you murdered a fortune teller, plundered his belongings, passed through a portal to another world to meet a legendary creature, and then…bedded Vivian?”

Henrikk straightened. “In my defence…”

Asher shot him a sceptical look. “Yes?”

“I did not want to bed Vivian.”

A dangerous silence followed—one that sent a chill through the warm air.

“And you have nothing to say of the wizard you murdered?” Asher asked.

A pang of guilt shot through Henrikk’s chest. He’d been more vulnerable to such feelings of late. He didn’t like it, this constant state of vulnerability. As if he was waiting for Asher to notice him and pick up the pieces. But there was not much else to do on this damn island except think. Asher was the reason he was here. Him, and the damn dragon.

He offered Asher a shrug. “The wizard is long dead. I cannot undo what has been done.”

“No,” Asher agreed coolly, “I suppose you can’t.”

Perhaps it was the piercing way Asher stared at him, but Henrikk had a sudden urge to provide some scrap of proof that he did regret murdering the wizard. “I pushed him,” he said. “When he refused to read my fortune again or to help me in any other way, I pushed him. He’d been standing in the doorway of his caravan, and he fell and struck his head against the corner of a table. And that was the end of that.”

Asher tilted his head. “So…it was an accident.”

“Murder,” Henrikk clarified.

“I see. To be honest, I thought you were boasting before. But I see now that I was mistaken. You never meant to hurt him.”

“I stole some trinkets,” Henrikk interjected, growing uncomfortable with Asher’s softening gaze. “Unusual coins, vials of powder, a music box, and the like. They’re in Dargotika’s lair now. She claimed them for herself—she thought I’d come bearing gifts. That was the only reason she didn’t kill me on sight.”

“Your thievery was rewarded, then.” There was no condemnation in Asher’s tone.

Henrikk wrung his hands, preparing for the final part of his story. The most difficult one to tell, even though Asher had already guessed much of it. “You are right. Dargotika is an evil creature who lives and breathes dark magic. I was not fully cognisant of that fact at first. I was lured by the power she promised me, and I did not fully consider the consequences until it was too late. The dragon leant me use of her magic, but it came at a steep price.

“It corrupted you,” Asher said softly. “It drove you to do terrible, evil things.”

Henrikk nodded.

“I’ve known you for a long time. I saw you transform from an ambitious man, who I greatly admired, to a shadow of who you once were—formidable but lost. I wish…that you had told me all of this sooner.”

Henrikk couldn’t quite meet his gaze. Would it have made a difference if he had? Would the burden have been easier to bear?

“The dragon’s powers helped me achieve all that I am,” Henrikk began. “But…I question whether it was worth it.”

“Thanks to you, there’s no more conscription,” Asher said. “The poor are exempt from taxes. The medical facilities are much improved.”

“The wolves are enslaved for vampires to feed upon,” Henrikk countered. “Humans are less than cattle.”

“You expanded Wintermaw Keep.”

“You’re grasping at straws now,” Henrikk said, thinking of the grandiose renovations he’d exerted on the ancient castle. “And just between you and me…”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“…I feel as though the new renovations don’t quite match the rest of the castle’s aesthetic.”

“It’s ugly as fuck,” Asher chortled, and Henrikk laughed too. “You fixed King’s Road, at least. Cleared the trees, reduced the frequency of highway robberies.”

“And no more potholes.”

“No more potholes.”