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“Or they may not believe King Taven’s lie. You’re Father seemed respected.”
Oriel leaned his head on the railing. It wouldn’t bring back his family if he took his Kingdom. They’d still be dead, and he’d be the King in an empty Castle. Making his own family seemed impossible. He didn’t even know what Aspen would be like when he woke up.
He tried to imagine these two coming to live with him. Neither had a real home to go to now, and he could protect both if he was the King of West Bay.
It was too much to consider right now, especially with whiskey burning in his gut.
He lifted his head. “Did you put the balm on?”
“Yeah. It still hurts.” Roth leaned back and carefully laid his upper body down on the stone. “I feel rather free at the same time too. Every time it hurts when I move, I know he won’t touch me again. That was truly the last time. I won’t be told how I’m an ungrateful bastard or look at his face and think of how he justified things to keep his image and shift blame.” He paused. “Everyone will think I’m simply a murderous son once they find his body stuffed under my bed like old rubbish. They won’t know, and I’ll seem utterly evil in their eyes.”
Oriel patted his hand, but Roth quickly grabbed it and squeezed like he’d been looking for someone to do that too.
“You should go to bed,” said Roth. “The sooner we leave the better, but you need rest.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I picked a room to set my stuff in. I'll be three doors down.”
Oriel’s head spun a little when he stood, and he grabbed the railing. The whiskey hit pretty hard. No wonder Aspen was out, and he was a lightweight to begin with.
“Can you walk?” asked Roth.
“Yeah. I’ve been more smashed than this. My brothers beat me in a few drinking games." Never again would that happen. He also wouldn't see Father's disapproving gaze like the next morning when all three sons looked hungover after a night of too much. Oriel's throat tightened as he let Roth take the bottle.
Once he left, Oriel thought about collapsing on the bed, but he didn’t want to leave Aspen alone. He went into the sitting room, collected him, and brought him into the bed. Hopefully, he didn’t throw up in the night. Oriel wrapped him in his arms under the blanket.
“I’m not letting you go again,” he whispered.
He fell into an uneasy sleep that seemed too quick and not restful enough. He awoke to a hand shoving on his chest, screaming, and someone kicking at him.
“Get off! Get off me!”
Oriel jerked back as his heart rate soared, and he grunted as he hit the floor. The blankets were still half-tangled around him, and he thrashed at them, terrified that someone was hurting Aspen who gasped in the bed.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”
Oriel looked up at the crazed fairy on the bed as his heart thudded behind his ribs. “It’s just me!”
“Get the fuck out! GET THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW! I’ll kill you, you fucking piece of shit.”
Oriel scrambled away from the bed, and Roth burst in, apparently having heard the screaming.
“What are you doing in my house?” Aspen shakily scooted back against the headboard. “I didn’t say you could come to my home! Get your fucking slave out of here!”
“He’s not-”
“Whip him too. How dare he get in the bed with me?”
The order to have him whipped made Oriel’s insides clench. “I’m not his slave anymore. It’s complicated, but he’s with me now. He’s not my Master, and we’re running away. We came to get you.”
“What you saw-I had to act,” said Roth. "It’s a lot to explain, but-"
“Get out,” snapped Aspen. “Whatever the fuck you’re doing, I don't care. Get out.”
“I’m not leaving without you,” said Oriel. “That’s why we came here.”
“You’re supposed to suffer, you cocksucking bastard,” said Aspen. “I’m not going with you.”
