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“It’s fucking bullshit I can’t heal this,” Roth mumbled under his breath.
“Do you have something for burns?” asked Oriel.
“In the bathing room cupboard. Top shelf.”
“Has he ever done that before?” Oriel asked as he stood.
“No. Fists don’t usually leave scars.”
Oriel found an old jar of burn cream, and he dotted it on while trying to be careful. The skin was nearly blackened in some parts, and the red was vicious. After he put the lid on and sat next to him, Roth leaned against him.
“Do you need something else? I know it hurts but-”
“Nobody’s ever done anything. Not even Mother.” Roth wrapped an arm around Oriel and sounded like he was trying not to cry.
“I didn’t do much. I just put cream on and plucked out some glass. You healed your own cuts.”
“It’s still more than anyone else. I’m used to taking care of myself.” Oriel put an arm around Roth who continued. “I didn’t want him to take you, and I’m so fucking tired of being his punching sack.”
“You don’t have to justify it to me. He deserved it.”
“But I shouldn’t have dragged you into this too. You’re here with me. They’ll say my slave is an accomplice.”
“Both of us will go. We'll get so far ahead, that won't matter. All right?”
“All right. Thanks for hitting that bastard on the head.”
They stood in the entrance of the closet room to look at the lord’s body.
Roth took a deep breath as he leaned against the doorway while slightly hunched. “I should feel more guilty.” He lifted his red eyes to Oriel’s purple ones. “I don’t.”
“Why should you? He fucking you put in that room once.”
“He fed and clothed me.”
“Who the fuck cares? He doesn’t get a pass for that!” Oriel took a deep breath as Roth stared at the body. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell, but whatever he’s said or whatever good things he has given you, he had no right to hit you like that. It was sick that he also gave you a slave and expected you to fuck and torture me. He used you, and he only did typical Father stuff so no one would suspect the truth.”
“I need a minute.”
Oriel rubbed the bridge of his nose. This whole thing was beyond fucked up. Roth appeared like was still faintly in shock, but he couldn’t even get his thoughts in order and deal with things in his own time. Neither could Oriel. They both needed far more than a minute.
He guessed he could see why Roth still had a tiny bit of guilt. It would be hard to grow up with a parental figure and later kill them. Oriel couldn’t imagine killing his Father, but then again, King Leneer never would have harmed his children. Roth had experienced something that Oriel didn’t, so it made sense if they processed things differently.
“We can’t take the body out,” Roth said from the bed where he was sitting. “There’s no way to avoid everyone. I checked his rooms after breakfast, and I couldn’t find the key. I even looked in his office, and I checked the lock box too. I have no idea where he’s hiding it.”
Oriel tugged on the collar before he knelt to check the lord’s pockets, but he only found a little money. “He doesn’t have it on him, so he must have hidden it somewhere clever.”
“I wonder if he was suspicious that I’d grown soft with you. Or that I would after a bit.” Roth made a frustrated noise. “Take his sword and dagger, and tuck them under my bed. When we leave, you can have his weapons. As for him, we’ll hide him under the bed too.”
They rolled the bastard up in cloaks and used a couple of belts to strap them on. Afterward, they slid Lord Delwin under the bed, and Oriel walked around to make sure nothing was visible. The servants wouldn’t see anything odd unless they got down on the floor to peer under. It wasn’t the best hiding place, but it would work for a while.
Once he started to rot, someone would realize where the smell was coming from, and they’d look. For now, they’d think the lord was out and searching for the stupid cousin who ran away with his fuck buddy. With Roth gone, perhaps they’d suspect the same. That would likely buy them at least a couple of days.
Roth picked some clothes for them to wear and had an idea to give a guard the slip. He wasn’t supposed to go anywhere at night without a guard, although he knew someone that would help them.
Oriel didn’t like anyone seeing them later that night, but Roth’s plan would work to get them away for now. A servant couldn’t be called to clean up the glass, so Oriel used a balled-up shirt to protect his hands and sweep the shards into a pile. He pushed those under the bed too. The frame of the broken looking glass itself was tucked in the closet room behind some cloaks.
For the rest of the day, they stayed in the bedroom, and the doors remained locked.
