Chapter 52: The Death of a Dream
Simon felt the fury rising in him, but it was premature, so he held it in check. Everything happened at once in that instant, and it was impossible to completely hold back his anger as the world turned red and shrank to a single point of focus. He felt the rage that his wife would cheat on him, only to watch in slow motion as Freya used the distraction his entrance had provided to wrest her right-hand free and stab Varten in the belly with the dagger Simon had given her so recently.
“Simon, this isn’t what it— Fucking bitch!” Varten’s excuses were interrupted by his scream of pain as he cuffed Simon’s wife, sending her careening off on the wooden table before she fell to the floor as limp as a rag doll.
“Gods, I’m fucking bleeding,” he muttered to himself as he pulled the dagger out and tossed it on the ground. “That bitch fucking stabbed me…”
Varten was a practiced duelist, but he only faced foes weaker than himself, so he was always the one doing the wounding and not at all used to the sight of his own blood. Simon’s lip curled in pleasure at that. For better or worse, he’d been on the wrong side of a blade dozens of times now. That realization didn’t stop him from advancing on the man with murder in his eyes.
“You’re supposed to be some kind of miracle worker, right?” the noble babbled. “Heal me as the men claimed you’ve healed them, or my father will hear of this!”
For a moment, Simon let that fantasy play out in his mind. He thought of how easy it would be to touch the other man’s bleeding shirt and whisper the magic words that would end his suffering. Those words weren’t the healing words he knew but the words of destruction. He imagined filling that gaping wound that his wife had left behind with molten pain that consumed the awful young man until his prattling was finally ended forever, and he was reduced to ashes.
Those idle thoughts all ended when he looked to Freya and saw the blood pooling by his wife’s head where she lay on the floor. That was the only thing that saved Varten as he walked past him to get to her.
“Get out,” he said coldly, not even bothering to look at the man that had done this as he cradled his wife. He could have Varten’s corpse any time he wanted it. So, at this moment, she was all that mattered.
The noble took the opportunity and bolted immediately. That show of cowardice would have made Simon smile if things weren’t so grim. It wasn’t like he could get away. There was, after all, no place in any world that the young Raithewait could go to escape from what was coming for him after he’d hurt the only woman that Simon had ever loved.