Allowing voices to doubts only caused them to grow stronger. Darius had become victim enough times to know, but perhaps this was the worst of them all.

He was now certain that he was a cruel, evil man. He’d come to be a butler for you, himself to be so noble. His king had sent him as a spy, attempting to take down your father’s tyrant rain, and now he’d found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place.

On one hand, he owed all his loyalty to his king, the man he’d served so faithfully for so long. On the other, how could he betray someone like you? Could he truly find it in himself to leave such a sickly person in the middle of a battle field?

Despite himself, he did not abandoned his post alone. On the night of his supposed betrayal—his escape before the attack began—he snuck into your chambers far later than he usually would. Frantically, he began to pack any belongings he thought you may want to keep in a small bag, clumsily slinging it over his shoulder.

He knew the nightly medications you took almost completely knocked you out, and he found himself incredibly grateful for that as he ran through the large corridors. The sounds of his panting mixed with his shoes hitting the cobblestone underneath his feet.

A wave of relief consumed him as he finally got to the escape carriage, and he felt peace at last. The plush seats felt like heaven as he sunk into them. He could finally relax knowing that at least he managed to get one innocent person away from the inevitable.

His early celebration was in seemingly in vain as you began to shift lightly. Instead of getting even a moment to breathe or think, he now had to explain his sins. He’d have to finally bare the moment you found out about his treason.

“Your majesty, allow me to explain,” he began, watching as you sat up in the carriage. “Please, may I speak freely?”