Page 8 of Henrikk’s Secret

There was nothing left to say.

No more attempts to paint me in a good light?

This was not what Henrikk had wanted, but it was what had needed to happen—because the evil within him could not be allowed to survive.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said softly, grabbing the back of Asher’s shirt and hauling him into a chair.

Henrikk did not sit. If he was going to die, he would do so standing on his two feet.

Time to get this over with.

“Let us drink,” he said.

Asher blinked slowly, then nodded. He pushed the silver goblet nearest to Henrikk closer.

Henrikk’s lip curled as his hands closed around the cool metal stem. “Any final words for me? A toast in my honour, perhaps?”

Asher raised his goblet with trembling hands but did not speak.

That’s it. Do not mourn me, Asher. I’ve given you no reason to. Years from now, you will be hailed as a hero for defeating a tyrant. My son will ensure you are recognised, I am sure.

Guilt slammed into Henrikk at the thought of Nathaniel, so forceful that had he not been trying so hard to mask his emotions, he would have crashed to the floor in despair.

My son…

The love he could not give him.

The lessons he could not teach him.

The support he would never be able to provide him as he came into adulthood.

Your mother; she would sing to you when she was pregnant. A happier, lovelier woman I have never known.

It was the last kind, real thing he’d ever told a younger Nathaniel. Before…

Before everything had changed. Before he’d gotten reckless, driven by ambition. He hadn’t meant to abandon his duties as a husband and father. But there had always been something more pressing that needed his attention. And then there was the lure of magic and conquest.

And always, his unrequited feelings for Asher—his one true love.

I thought I could have it all. A family to love. A kingdom to lead. A general’s love. And power beyond reckoning.

But my greed left me with nothing.

There was nothing left of him worth salvaging.

Henrikk’s vision swam with tears.

“Are you all right?” Asher whispered, reaching through his thoughts.

He quickly blinked away the tears and gave Asher a hard look. Wonderful, devoted Asher, who even now tried to care for him.

“I’m merely savouring this moment.” Henrikk lifted his goblet higher and gave the poisoned wine a swish. This was his last chance to tell Asher the truth. To confess his love, however pitiful an offering that love may be as it curled up in the depths of his mangled soul.

But that would be unfair. After everything he’d subjected Asher to, it would be wrong to make him feel guilt or regret for what was about to happen. Besides, knowing Asher would not miss him made the prospect of dying a little easier.

He lifted his glass and forced his lips into a smirk. “A toast—to your love for me.”

Asher raised his goblet, a gesture that seemed surreal as if it were happening in slow motion.