Part 1 Chapter 3

 

CHAPTER 3

 

 

M

oira watches the door close gently then drags the chair closer to the bed, closer to Gremborlin. She looks at his barely-awake form with concern and sadness clear in her eyes. She leans toward the bed and gently takes his hand; Gremborlin slowly turns his head to her but stops and cringes at the pain. She gives a weak smile at his attempt and lightly brushes some hair from his face.

  “Are you sure of this?” she gently whispers. Gremborlin opens his eyes wider, not out of pain or surprise, but just to see Moira clearer and to let her see the seriousness of his answer.

  He tries to nod his head but grimaces in pain.

  It doesn’t matter, she gets the message and, after a hesitant moment, nods back, “very well.”

 

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Olraym is indeed angry. He is fuming. He and Sertia are alone in the main dining hall; Olraym standing at the left-hand side while Sertia is standing on the right. Sertia is pacing with her arms crossed in front of her while Olraym is stock still with his at his sides. The eight torches are now lit; giving the room a dim, almost private feel and emitting the smell of burning wood.

  “Did you know about this?” yells Olraym, although he is still pacing he is now glaring at Sertia. She isn’t fazed by his anger, “Did you!”

  “I knew he was considering it,” Olraym shakes his head and raises his arms in annoyance and frustration, she speaks louder, “but I did not know he had made a decision.”

  “I can’t believe he did this,” he stops pacing and leans, feeling tired, on the table, “he knows more than anyone that I don’t want this, that I don’t want this power and responsibility.” Sertia looks on him with sympathy and leans on the table from her side.

  “I know dear brother, but you cannot blame him for this. He made this decision the best way he knew how and he chose you.”

  “Why, is it because he wanted to get back at me for leaving?”

  “No. He knows you’re the best choice between all of us.”

  Olraym takes a deep breath, holds it in, and then lets it go. “He can think that all he wants, but I’m not so sure.”

  “Then what would you suggest?” Sertia questions, he sympathy being replaced with irritation. Olraym looks up at her; he looks both angry and scared.

  “I don’t know, just someone who is not me.”

  “Well the only others are me and your brother Thorne. While I may be good I don’t know anything about running a kingdom no matter how much good advice I get, and Thorne only cares for himself.”

  At this Olraym slumps down, Sertia speedily walks around the table and hugs him he doesn’t hug her back but neither does he push her off. She then lets him go and takes his hand, “come, I’ll take you to your room.” She leads him away, going out of the main dining hall and through the other door-less opening.

  It takes a few minutes; going up staircases and through almost empty halls, and halfway Olraym regains his composure and lets his hand fall from Sertia’s, but finally they reach the door to Olraym’s room. They say their goodnights and Olraym enters his room, closing the door with a low-pitched bang behind him. 

  His bed chamber is very different from his parents’; it is slightly smaller and square, the window is also smaller, but still lets in a good amount of moonlight. The bed is more modest while at the same time eccentric. The wardrobe is the same as the one his parents have.

  He changes out of his clothes, gets into some night wear, and gets in bed. It doesn’t take long for him to fall deeply into sleep. In other parts of the castle Sertia and Thorne, after finishing some personal business, do the same, each turning in their respective heads what they will do with Olraym.