Филип Этанс - The Death Ray

The duke approached him, and Regdar turned.

“You didn’t fail, Regdar,” the duke said, loudly enough so all could hear. “Leaders lose men.”

Regdar nodded and said, “I never wanted to be a leader.”

“I accept this only as a leave of absence,” the duke said. “Return, when you can, and you will be Lord Constable again.”

Regdar nodded, and Maelani’s breath caught. She could see by his face that that would never be. He had resigned the post, refused the title, and he would never take it up again. He had lost men, like her father had, but Regdar had lost more. He also lost Naull, and Maelani imagined she could see a piece of him missing. When he walked it was as if he was both heavier and yet, somehow, less connected to the ground, less connected to anything—lost.

Regdar looked at her, and Maelani tried to hold his gaze but had to look away. Tears filled her vision but before that, she could see in his face that he didn’t blame her. Maelani had a lot to regret and a lot to repair, but Regdar didn’t blame her. She also saw that this man who she thought she loved…she didn’t know what that word meant, and she was beginning to understand that she wouldn’t until she found a love like Regdar had. And then, only if she was lucky.

Regdar mounted the horse and took the reins, turning the great beast to face her father again.

“Your Highness,” Regdar said, “I take my leave of you, with your permission.”

The duke nodded and said, “As reluctant as I am to do so, I grant you your leave.”

Regdar nodded but hesitated, looking out through the open gate to the setting sun beyond.

“Where will you go?” the duke asked.

Regdar looked at him and shrugged. With a smile sadder than anything Maelani had ever seen, he said, “West, with the night.”

Her father said nothing, and Regdar turned his horse away. When he passed through the gate and was clear of the mighty walls of New Koratia, Regdar spurred the horse to a gallop.

Maelani didn’t watch him go. She couldn’t. Instead, she drew a vial from her purse, a vial for which she had paid a pretty sum. It was the love potion she so foolishly planned to slip to Regdar. The sight of the witch’s brew, much less the thought of it, disgusted her. The sickening potion was what she possessed. Regdar’s heart was what Naull had owned.

Maelani opened the vial and poured the contents onto the gravel at her feet.

The duke stepped next to her and asked, “What is that?”

Maelani had to take a second to gather herself before she could answer, “Nothing.” And that was true.