“Aleister!” I said, my tone biting, “how’s your spec-ops?”

He snorted. “Executed for their failure.”

I leaned forward, scrutinising the scene. Though Aleister took up much of it, I could tell he wasn’t in the same place as before. A stage stood behind him, soldiers milling around and performing activities unknown to me.

Dread gripped my heart. Obviously he was going to show me something, but what? My entire Council edged around to get a better look.

“Well,” I said, “aren’t you the forgiving one?”

“Forgiveness is not the mark of a good ruler,” he replied, “just a soft one.”

“Bet they love you at parties.” I rested my cheek on my fist, doing my best to look bored. “Is there a point to this, or are you just trying to depress me with the sight of your face?”

With a sardonic chuckle, Aleister took a step back. The stage behind him held a beam, from which hung several ropes.

Gallows.

I swallowed my guts. What was the point of showing me an execution? Who was he about to kill?

“You are young,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension, “and stupid. In truth, I do not believe it your fault you were brought to our world and given the throne, so I shall extend my offer once more.

“Give me the crown, or face the consequences.”

I waved my hands slowly, giving an ironic smile. “Oh no! Consequences. Let me guess, it’s gone up to the 4th generation now?”

He licked his teeth. “I grow tired of your attitude, boy. Should you fail to return to me what is rightfully mine, then you shall face a war. And rest assured, I will defeat you.”

“Rightfully yours?” I said, clicking my tongue. “What’s your claim, then? Cause last I checked, the crown was supposed to go to the King’s son, but he wasn’t up to the task. None of you were. That’s the entire reason I’m here and not in a mortuary.”

“On whose decision?” he said, scoffing. “The Arbiter? A lowly knight deciding who is worthy to hold the throne? Preposterous.”

“Not as preposterous as your haircut, mate.” At this point, I’d throw whatever I wanted out there. The more I pissed him off, the more likely he was to play into my hands.

He growled, so obviously it was working. After composing himself, he said, “I knew, of course, that you would not accept my, quite frankly, generous offer.

“Which is why I’ve prepared a demonstration. Bring them!”

Aleister stepped away, and in the background, a group of four people in shackles were led to the gallows by Riberan soldiers. One was a burly man in fine robes with a beard and dark hair. Behind him, a waifish woman with pink hair walked straight-backed and proud.

A pair of young men shuffled along behind, their heads bowed. It was hard to make out their features, but they shared the man’s hair colour.

“Meet Baron Verard and his family,” said Aleister, “though I believe you’re already familiar with one of his sons.”

I turned to Konstantin. The colour had drained from his face, and he trembled, clenching his fists. Tears streamed freely down his cheeks. No. No fucking way. Hadn’t I promised to protect them?

Fire and ice swirled together in my gut, making me feel sick. A deep rage gripped my chest, and every muscle wound itself so tight I thought they might snap. What had happened?

I glanced at Cannara, but she looked as shocked as I felt. Trying to swallow, I felt my throat closed off.

“No,” I said. “Leave them alone.”

“Why would I do that?” said Aleister, smug as his soldiers wrapped the nooses around their necks. One of the sons was crying.

I quivered, gritting my teeth. “Let them go!”

Chuckling, Aleister raised an arm. “I can’t do that, I’m afraid. You see, Baron Verard is a traitor, and I don’t suffer those lightly.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“ALEISTER!” roared Konstantin. “The only traitor here is you, you fucking snake!”

“Ah, Konstantin.” Aleister smirked, licking his lips. “I had wondered where you got off to. I told you what would happen, didn’t I?”

“My boy!” yelled the burly man, grinning. “Do not falter. We have made our peace. For so long, I was blinded to this man’s depravity, but you were wiser than I! I am not ashamed. You are on the right path, at the centre of the beginning of Larheim’s new golden age!”

He looked proud, in that moment, his eyes holding a defiance that even death wouldn’t break.

Aleister dropped his arm.

The stage gave way beneath the Verards, and their nooses went taut. For a few seconds, they struggled, and ice seared through my veins. I didn’t want to watch, but I couldn’t rip my gaze away.

Before long, they were dead.

***

I spent the next 3 days in my room.

Apparently, the Baron—Silas—had been apprehended while in Aleister’s court. Cannara’s forces had rushed to evacuate his family, but were stopped by Aleister’s elite troops.

They were all dead, too.

All I could do was lie there, curled into a ball, and consider my failure.

I was just a lowly office worker who’d loved RPG and RTS games. What the fuck did I actually know about strategy? About running a country? What did a degree in economics give me, other than a little bit of applicable knowledge that was nowhere near enough?

When I’d met Konstantin, I’d promised to protect his family. It had been the entire reason he agreed to join me. But now, I realised how naive I’d been, that my assumption—and it was nothing but that—of having the power to do so was nothing more than wishful thinking. Because of me, he’d lost his family. Whatever I felt, he must have been 10 times worse.

I wasn’t a King. I was just pretending.

Cannara was the first to visit, a tenderness in her voice that I’d never heard before. It meant nothing. Nothing meant anything, anymore—even my old fantasies of slaying monsters and adventuring with a beautiful harem felt bitter and lifeless.

She told me that she planned to return to Zarua, and find out everything she could about Aleister’s plans.

I hadn’t responded.

Shia was next, trying to cheer me up with jokes and stories about ridiculous magic phenomena she’d encountered while reading. All I did was stare blankly at the wall.

Everything felt empty, like all my thoughts and feelings had decided our relationship was a poor fit. I couldn’t blame them.

I couldn’t eat. My stomach felt tumultuous, like anything I put in there would be tossed around like a ship on the waves and rejected. Every second, every minute, passed in both an instant and an eternity.

Wouldn’t it be better if I hadn’t been summoned? If they’d just let me go splat on the pavement, and supported Duke Kalvin for the throne, instead?

At some point, Hana came in without me noticing. Wordlessly, she sat beside me, laying a hand on my face and stroking my hair. Warmth spread from her touch, but it didn’t get far. The cold was far too strong for that.

“Oliver,” she finally said. I jerked at this—it was the first time she’d called me by name, at least while sober. “I understand your pain.”

“Leave me alone, then.”

“No,” she said.

I scrunched my face. “That’s an order.”

“I refuse.”

Finally, I looked up at her, and she favoured me with a soft smile. Her eyes held a warm compassion, and her gentle touch soothed me, if only a little.

“Wasn’t it you who told me everybody makes mistakes?” she asked softly.

“My mistake cost lives.”

“So did mine.”

Well, that was true. But here she was, not only still standing, but appearing to thrive.

Obviously, she was just stronger than me. All I could consider was throwing myself off the balcony and returning to factory settings.

“I know it hurts,” she said, “but you cannot let it consume you. If you do, how many more will die? How many more will know this pain?

“Allowing that will only force you into a spiral, one from which there is no escape. Please, Oliver. Listen to me. You must stand, for yourself, for Larheim, and…

“For me.”

What was she saying? Did it even matter? I was a failure of a ruler, and eventually, it would all come crashing down.

Better to end it here than cause more suffering.

“I don’t want to see you like this,” she said.

“Why?” What benefit did it have for her? Surely she could see by now just how useless I really was.

“Because you are brilliant,” she said, leaning closer to me. “Because you deserve to be happy. You deserve to succeed.”

In the end, was she just saying she cared about me? Was that true? Did any of them? Or did all of them? Did it matter?

No. What mattered was my failure.

But damn it, she was right. I couldn’t make up for it from my bed, and if I let myself waste away, Aleister would take the throne, and I knew full well how that ended. For all the pain I currently felt, I couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be if I lost them all. My gut wrenched just thinking about it.

Looking up at her, I forced a shaky smile. I couldn’t just get over it, and the self-flagellation wouldn’t leave my thoughts—every time that gallows scene flashed before my eyes, they filled with tears.

Every time I considered the blood cost of my decisions, and the potential for even more to be spilled, bile flowed up my throat. But seeing the way she looked at me, it became clear.

She believed in me. They all did. And who the hell would I be if I betrayed that belief, absorbed in a self-indulgent depression? I had to get up. I had to do it—for them.

This lowly office worker was going to save the kingdom.