Chapter 43 - 42- Dinner

Darian was coughing up blood again.

Neria hoped this was a sign that he was dying. Maybe finally this horrible man, who was also her jailer, would get what he deserved.

It had started right after he said they would be leaving tomorrow. The coughs had become heavier, rough and chesty, each one forcing its way out of him with a small wheeze that made Neria glance towards him. She hadn’t realized he was coughing up blood too until Edina’s worried voice suddenly broke through the room.

"Blood."

Neria turned towards the sound. She saw Edina’s blurred figure quickly move around the table and pick up the jar that had been sitting beside Gale.

"Gale, go call the doctor again."

Neria remained seated, her hands still resting near her plate. She knew she would have to put on a worried expression soon. Edina was already frightened, and if she looked too pleased about Darian being sick, that would probably raise questions.

But honestly, she was far too hungry to bother pretending right now.

"No. I am fine. The doctor isn’t needed." Darian’s strained voice came from beside her. "It’s just an old illness"

"An old illness?" Edina’s worried voice now sounded disbelieving. There was a pause before she spoke again, as though she wasn’t sure whether to believe what she had just been told.

Neria looked up at the older woman, then quickly softened her voice. "Yes, it is. He’s had it for quite a while."

She reached out towards Darian, letting her hand rest gently against his arm. His skin was still warm beneath her fingers, and she could feel the faint tension in his muscles even through his clothes.

She was sure he didn’t like her touch.

Well she didn’t like his either.

Gale spoke when Edina seemed to be searching for the right words.

"You should have something lighter," he said, his voice thoughtful. "Did you have any medicine you used to take?"

Wonderful. The conversation was back on food.

Her stomach twisted when she remembered all the possibly delicious food on teg table right now.

Neria answered before Darian could.

"He does, but we lost it." She paused, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "But I think some rest and food will do him good."

She was getting better at lying.

The old couple went quiet for a moment. Neria could almost feel their confusion hanging in the air. Perhaps they were too concerned about Darian to question her, or maybe they simply didn’t know what to make of their strange story.

Neria hoped they wouldn’t ask anything else.

For heavens’ sake, she was desperate to eat.

Beside her, Darian’s hand moved towards hers. His fingers brushed against hers before he slowly lifted her hand away from his arm and placed it back in her lap.

"Neria is right," he said, clearing his throat. His voice still sounded strained from the coughing. "Some rest will be fine."

"Maybe after he eats," Neria chirped in.

"What?" Neria turned towards Darian. "It’s a strange illness," she added quickly.

She wasn’t sure if that made the lie better or worse, but it was the only thing she could think of.

Gale let out a long sigh from across the table. The old wooden chair creaked beneath him as he shifted in his seat.

"I don’t think you can leave in this condition," he said.

Neria turned towards where his voice had come from. Through the blur of her vision, she could make out his broad shape sitting at the table, one hand resting near his plate.

"You don’t seem to be in any condition to travel," Gale continued.

Beside her, Darian remained quiet.

Neria could hear the faint rasp of his breathing, followed by a small cough that he tried to hold back. The sound was genuinely disturbing, enough to almost make her worry about him.

That was a big almost.

Edina had now reached Neria’s side. The older woman’s dress brushed against the wooden floor as she moved closer, and Neria could smell the herbs and roasted meat still clinging to her clothes from the cooking.

Edina hummed in agreement.

"Gale’s right. Just stay here on the farm until you recover, dear."

Darian’s voice came a moment later, still strained from his coughing. "No. We’ll be intruding." he was trying to sound polite.

"Nonsense." Edina’s accent grew thicker around the word, as though she couldn’t believe he had even suggested it. "There’s plenty of room here on the farm. You won’t be intruding."

Neria looked down at her plate.

The food was still warm. She could feel the heat rising from it, and the smell of the stew made her stomach growl softly again.

She hoped no one heard.

"True," Gale added.

His voice sounded a little more bitter this time. "The Emperor hasn’t taken our land yet."

Neria’s head lifted slightly.

Obviously she couldn’t see his expression properly but the tone of his voice suggested they were supposed to feel welcomed but then the subtle anger in it was hard to missed.

Neria glanced towards Darian.

Anything about the Emperor was usually bad news.

"Taking lands?" Darian asked.

His voice had changed, it was sharper than before, making her turn towards him. She could hear the faint scrape of his chair against the wooden floor as he shifted.

"Since when?"

"Ahh, it’s nothing..." Edina’s voice suddenly became smaller. Neria heard her footsteps moving towards the kitchen, followed by the soft clatter of dishes. "It’s just a rumor."

"Mm. The farmers in Juvus thought it was a rumor too," Gale said, his voice still carried a bitter edge. "Now their land belongs to the Emperor."

Neria’s brows pulled together.

"What?" Darian asked. "The court hasn’t decided that yet."

"How would you know what the court has decided?" Gale scoffed.

The old man’s chair creaked as he leaned back, and Neria could almost hear the anger building in his voice.

"They’re all a bunch of rotten scum."

Edina’s footsteps came again.

The warm smell of roasted meat and herbs still filled the room, but the comfortable feeling from earlier had disappeared.

Edina’s blurred figure eventually appeared again. She seemed to be carrying another tray, the dishes on it giving off little sounds as she carefully made her way towards the table.

"That’s enough, Gale," she said gently. "The wind gossips too."

She placed the tray down between them, and the smell of fresh bread and warm herbs drifted towards Neria. Her stomach immediately reminded her that she was still waiting to eat, but even that couldn’t completely distract her from the conversation.

Neria sighed quietly. What was with all this talk about land? She had only wanted dinner.

Unfortunately for her, Gale didn’t seem ready to stop. "If only the previous Emperor were still around," he said.

His voice had changed again.

The bitterness was still there, but something softer had replaced the anger. There was sadness in his words now, almost like he was remembering someone close to him he had lost a long time ago.

Neria slowly turned towards Darian.

His figure was still nothing more than a dark blur to her, but she could clearly see the change in his posture. His shoulders had gone tense, and he had become completely still.

Neria frowned.

If the current Emperor was Darian’s uncle, then the previous Emperor had to be his father, right?

She wasn’t completely sure, but she had a feeling she was.

"The old Emperor was kind," Edina said quietly as she finally took her seat.

"He was," Gale agreed.

He paused for a moment, his fingers tapping once against the wooden table before going still.

"Unfortunately, his brother is nothing like him." he sighed "And neither is his son."

Oh.

____

Darian couldn’t sleep.

He lay on his back with one arm tucked beneath his head, staring quietly at the ceiling above him. The room was dark except for the faint glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains, leaving pale patches across the wooden floor.

The night wasn’t as quiet as he wished for it to be.

Outside, he could hear the hoot of an owl somewhere beyond the farmhouse, followed by the steady chirping of crickets hidden among the grass. Every now and then, the wind brushed rustled leaves outside.

And beneath all of it, he could hear Neria breathing.

She was lying on the floor a few feet away from the bed, exactly where she had decided to sleep despite the fact that there was enough room for her to take the other side.

Darian closed his eyes.

He tried to sleep. But every time he came close to drifting off, Gale’s words returned to him.

And neither is his son.

No. That wasn’t what bothered him.

Darian knew he was nothing like his father. He had tried to be, though. Gods knew he had tried. He had spent most of his life trying to become the kind of man his father had been. Strong. Wise. Someone people could trust.

But Darian wasn’t him.

He wasn’t as strong, and he certainly wasn’t as wise.

He made mistakes in the court.

Sometimes he wondered what his father would think if he could see him now.

Would he be disappointed?

Darian stared at the ceiling again.

Perhaps he would.

After all, Darian couldn’t even stop Erik from taking land away from people who had done nothing wrong.

That was what truly bothered him.

His absence had given Erik the opportunity.

While Darian had been gone, the court had apparently decided to push the matter through. They had taken advantage of the few days he had been away, when no one was there to delay the decision or challenge it.

And now families like Gale and Edina’s were left wondering how long they would be allowed to keep their own homes.

Darian let out a slow breath.

The people already thought he was in on it.

They saw him as another noble sitting comfortably beside the Emperor while ordinary people suffered. His reputation was already in shambles because of Neria, the Calypso everyone believed was nothing more than his exotic pet.

His fingers tightened against the pillow beneath his head.

A quiet rustle came from the floor.

Darian opened his eyes.

Neria had shifted in her sleep.

He watched her for a moment before turning his gaze back towards the ceiling.

Speaking of that Calypso...

"Are you going to hurt Edina and Gale because of what they said?"

Her voice was quiet.

Darian glanced down at her. Apparently, she wasn’t asleep after all.

"No, I won’t, Neria. Go back to sleep." His tone should have been enough to tell her he wasn’t interested in having a conversation.

Apparently, she didn’t receive the message.

"They’re nice people," she said.

Darian stared at the ceiling again.

He didn’t think there would ever be a day when he heard Neria say something nice about landwalkers who weren’t Fiona.

"What makes them nice, Neria?" he found himself asking.

There was a short pause.

"They helped us," she answered sleepily. Then she yawned. "They didn’t hurt us."

Darian looked towards her again.

Such a simple way of looking at the world, almost unbelievable for how manipulative she could be.

That was what she considered nice people?

They had given them food. Called a doctor. Offered them a place to stay.

That was enough for her?

Darian almost scoffed. "Go back to sleep, Neria."

She was quiet for a moment.

Then he heard her settle back onto the floor, the blanket shifting softly beneath her.

Darian turned his eyes towards the ceiling once more.

___

Hiii! I am still fixing these sorry.