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Garroth was to marry the daughter of Scaleswind. He didn’t even know her name.
It was just politics.
Just politics.
Garroth lived, breathed, and died by politics.
Scaleswind and O’khasis were powerhouses divided by the enchanted forest and their eternal feud. This marriage would provide a link between them. The heirs of Esmund and Irene creating peace across Ru’uan. It would be almost poetic.
Garroth could feel the bile rise in his throat.
His hands trembled, hidden in his lap. He stared at the untouched food on his plate. He should eat it. Or at the very least pretend too. Twiddle with the fork to feign disinterest. Meet the eyes of his father and accept the proposal with glee.
His fingers did not move and his eyes did not blink.
“Garroth.”
Garroth didn’t flinch. “Yes, Father?”
“This is an honor I am proud to bestow upon you.”
Garroth nodded slightly, swallowing harshly. “I’m well aware, Father, and for that I am forever grateful. I suppose I just need a moment to think.”
The wooden chair screeched as Garroth rose. He pressed his hands close, his shoulders drawn tight. With a simple bow and flourish, Garroth sped out of the room.
Oh, Irene.
Irene.
Did Irene forsake him?
Dangling freedom in front of him before taking it violently away?
Garroth couldn’t do this anymore.
He just couldn’t.
He slammed open the door to the privy. Lurching over the toilet, Garroth heaved. He heaved and hacked as his empty stomach came rushing forward. He gagged, his clutched hands a ghostly white.
With ragged, stuttered breaths, Garroth began to laugh. He shook. Tears burned into his eyes, falling freely. The vile aftertaste coated his tongue.
Garroth sobbed. He pawed at his face, sweaty and frail. Pathetic.
This was a privilege!
But…
Garroth choked on his breath. He shoved himself away from the toilet, burying his face into his hands.
But…
Garroth coughed, his hot tears burning his flushed skin.
Calm yourself! You are Heir of O’khasis! You shouldn’t be acting so childish!
Garroth shuddered, curling into himself, his breathing turning even more erratic.
He buried his fingers in his curls, squeezing tightly.
He couldn’t– Garroth couldn’t stay here.
Someone was bound to find him.
No matter how grand the palace, it was filled to the brim with servants. And even if one of them did not miraculously find him, Father was sure to send Zane to search for him.
Garroth swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing. He pressed his back against the cool stone. If he were to be found, which he was sure to be, the privy would surely be an embarrassing place to be caught. He should move. At the very least, make the short walk to his bedchambers.
But even something as simple as moving to the next room sounded agonizing.
There was saliva building in his mouth. He…
Garroth gripped the wall, his shaky legs barely supporting him. Coughing, he wiped at his lips. Irene, when would that bitter aftertaste leave?
As graceful as a baby fawn, Garroth stumbled out of the privy, gasping. Clutching the doorway, he stared out at his room. There sat Zane, patient as ever, at the edge of Garroth’s bed.
“What are you doing here.”
Zane shrugged. “Father asked me to ensure you did not do anything… reckless.”
Garroth snarled. “What do you want.”
Zane crossed his feet, tilting his head.
Garroth slammed his hand against the doorframe. He swore he heard it crack.
“What do you WANT?!”
“Now, now, brother! No need to get so aggressive!”
Garroth was stepping out of line. He needed to control himself. He…
His hands shook. What had gotten into him? “Right. My… apologies.”
“Good. Now that we're on the same page… what’s with all this… fuss?”
“I… I cannot marry that woman, Zane.” He just couldn’t. It felt wrong in every meaning of the word. All the hand-holding, the public events, the ceremony, creating heirs. It made Garroth just sick thinking about it. He wasn’t sure how he’d react if he were to actually… do it.
“Why not?” Zane cocked his head to side. It was clear he was watching Garroth’s every minute expression. “She is powerful, just as we are.”
“...Y– yes, I’m not denying that, it’s just–”
“Why wouldn’t you marry her? Ru’uan’s strength could be unmatched!” Zane spread his arms wide, as if that would truly encapsulate the depth of his words. If O’khasis and Scaleswind had a truce… With their powers combined… Well, Garroth wasn’t quite sure what they could do.
But for some reason, that didn’t matter to Garroth.
“Yes, I know! Your logic is sound, Zane, but I do not know her. I have never met her in mine life! I… I don’t even know her name!”
“You will get to know her, no?”
Garroth sputtered, throwing his hands around wildly. “I DO NOT LOVE HER!! Is THAT the answer you were looking for? What is the POINT of a marriage without love?”
Zane blinked, utterly confused. “Aren’t all marriages loveless?”
“…”
“Oh, poor Garroth. You’ve always been so drawn to fairy tales, haven’t you?”
“Get out of my room.”
“Are you sure? We’ve been having such a lovely conversation, you know?”
Garroth gritted his teeth. “Get. Out. Of. My. Room.”
Zane smiled– though Garroth could not see his teeth, on account of the mask, Zane’s eyes still crinkled all the same– and rose from Garroth’s bed. With a gracefulness that Garroth had never quite managed to attain, Zane made his way to the exit.
Before he left, Zane turned around, looking straight into Garroth’s eyes. “This arrangement will be happening, Brother. Loveless or not. I know you know that just as well as I do.”
And with that dramatic little flourish of his, Zane was gone.
Garroth stood there, for a moment.
What had Zane said, again? That all marriages were…
But, just because Mother and Father’s marriage was…
Well, it didn’t matter, right?
Zane… was right.
Garroth didn’t want Zane to be right.
Garroth wished for the level of detachment Zane seemed to so easily possess.
He considered, for a brief moment, how easier his life would have been if that had been the case.
A powerful marriage. An unmatched city for him to rule. No need to become a guard just to escape his life. Maybe, just maybe, the lies he told his father would have been truth.
He….
Garroth couldn’t stay here.
Garroth would die if he stayed here.
…
Now wasn’t that a foolish thought.
Here he was, twenty-two years of age, thinking of something so childish as running away from home.
Garroth was struck with the sudden, invasive feeling of melancholy.
The last time he had run away was with…
When Vylad was here, everything had just been easier. There hadn’t been an empty seat beside him at the table.
It had been brighter, then.
After Vylad…
Well, maybe things would have been better off than they were now.
Maybe Mother wouldn’t be as closed off. Maybe Zane wouldn’t hate Garroth so. Maybe Father would just be a bit nicer.
When Vylad was still around, they could run around and hide. When Vylad was still around, there wasn’t any responsibility. When Vylad was still around, O’khasis wasn’t nearly as grim.
But Vylad was gone.
And Garroth wasn’t.
And maybe that was the only way…
Mother would be distraught, Garroth was sure. She had already lost one son. She wouldn’t bear to lose another.
But if the alternative was to marry someone Garroth did not love, he was sure Mother would be able to handle it fine.
In fact, Garroth was sure that at the very least, Zane would be elated. With Garroth gone, Zane would instantly become the next heir. He would want nothing less.
And maybe Father won’t be too upset over the disgrace he was too perform upon their family name.
There was just one miniscule issue.
Garroth didn’t want to die.
But he couldn’t live, either.
Garroth stared at the quill across the room. With a heavy heart, he seized a piece of parchment paper.
He knew O’khasis like the back of his hand. He knew ever exit and every entrance. Even the ones that the thieves guild used to enter. Guard Academy had prepared him enough for the wilderness. He would be fine.
He knew what he needed to do.
O o O o O
“I’ve already tried to fake my death before.”