Other items delegated or ready to wait on his return, Darius slid the remaining business that urgently needed his attention into a case and left his office. He strode down the hall, the length of his legs causing his guardsmen to hurry in his wake. One last task before he could rush home to Lux.
He couldn't help but worry about her under the current circumstances. For all he knew how dangerous it would be for their enemies to attack her in the heart of her sanctum, he couldn't help but think of her as small, fragile, wounded. If only he had been there...
Up ahead he saw Yachof escorting Kara to the meeting place. Excellent. Waiting on her arrival would have been more time away from Lux. He lengthened his stride to catch up with them.
"Kara, with me," he said, motioning to the place at his side where she could follow him. Yachof nodded, and, releasing her arm, fell in with the other guardsmen. Kara hesitated before stepping over to join him. A bruise was yellowing on her cheek and the circles under her eyes showed that recovery would be some time coming. The rhythm of her steps faltered as she tried to match his speed, in response he slowed his pace, smothering a flare of frustration.
Lux's pale face resting on her pillow haunted his thoughts, and he found himself speeding up again and again only to check himself. He needed to stay in the present. He gave a sidelong glance to the woman laboring to follow beside him.
"You'll be glad to hear my wife survived your husband trying to stab her in the heart." Directing a comment her way might keep him in mind of the situation. She turned her face down, pacing him with less effort while he was watching his speed. Ahead, he could see the gate leading down to the High Command's dungeon. Finally. Just a little further.
"Thank you, milord," she almost whispered.
He grunted an acknowledgement into the pause, but she wasn't done. "...for not involving the children."
He felt a flutter of irritation.
"You know I leave the children to the street." It was one of the reasons he was popular as a commander. If that meant there was a thriving population of street children growing strong on the desire to cut him down, so be it. It was his job to keep his men loyal in the first place.
He stopped suddenly. Kara's steps fell out of rhythm again as she stumbled to a halt, turning to look back at him, puzzled. Did they not tell her?
"Kara." He tried to keep his voice gentle. It wasn't his customary tone, but marriage had taught him a few things. "You aren't here for reparations."
"What?" Confusion washed over her features, as if his statement didn't make sense - which, of course, it didn't. If they hadn't told her… She knew how the world worked.
"Once my Demacian wife has recovered enough to think of anything other than sleeping and healing, do you know what she'll ask me?" He couldn't help but make the bitter venom he felt toward that country be heard when he spoke its name. The way they had abused and twisted Lux's survival instinct into it's current defective state… Well, there were times, these days, when he wanted to burn them to the ground more than he ever had while they were at war.
Kara shook her head, wide eyed. He wondered if she thought he was toying with her.
"Where are Kara and the children?" He tried to match the worried cadence Lux would use. "Are they okay?"
His knuckles popped in the fist he didn't realize he was clenching and he made an effort to relax. Kara couldn't seem to look away from his face, her cheeks draining of color as he watched.
"If she had not survived…" he growled before rage choked his throat, boiled through his veins. Visions of a world without Lux rose up in his mind, a world where the stupid things he had said to keep her awake and talking were the last things she heard from his lips… He stopped that line of thought, teeth clenching, hands curling back into fists.
A flicker of movement from Kara brought his attention back to her. The full weight of his gaze landed on her and she flinched.
"You should be glad," he said, low and intense.
He saw her throat work, trying to swallow the fear that was plain on her face.
"Yes, Lord." Her eyes were very wide, her voice was very small.
He wiped a hand down his face. He wasn't here to terrorize a woman too weak to protect… Kara's second child was less than a month old. Everyone had known, Tharse couldn't stop talking about it. Until he had stopped. And nobody noticed.
It was Darius' own fault he'd let his enemies suborn one of his men. There had been a weakness in his defenses. It had been exploited. It wasn't her fault. He took a deep breath.
"Shall we?" He tilted his head toward their destination. The guards at the gate were eyeing them curiously.
She took a hesitant step forward, then paced him as he took the lead again. He tried to move slower despite the inner voice whispering go, go, GO. She followed him past the guards, through the gate, and down into the depths of the dungeon. She slowed further, flinching and shrinking at the screams and cries from the prisoners. Darius tried to contain his impatience.
"Why am I here?" she asked, voice wobbling.
He glanced down at her, torn between disgust with himself and an absurd resentment toward her. Taking the last few steps toward their destination in silence, he tried to form a reply.
"I don't know if I'm being cruel, or being kind," he finally said. He stopped in front of the door, reaching to lift the bar and rest his hand on the latch. "You're here to say goodbye."
"He's dead though," she said, expressive eyes widening again. "He's dead." A hungry hope was building on her face, one that he hated all the more because he knew it.
"He is." He didn't want to lead her on. "But he's not there yet. Soon." They couldn't draw it out as much as Darius would like. Lux would ask after Tharse as well, he knew for a painful certainty. But she understood deaths happened during interrogations, it would be easier to explain that way. They might even wring something useful out of him.
Kara's eyes were glued to the door, her body tense and thrumming with anticipation. Darius' eyes narrowed.
"You will not disappoint me in this."
She shook her head vehemently, never looking away from the door. He pulled it open and she flew across the threshold.
"You idiot!" she cried, tears already falling thick and fast. "You idiot!" She threw herself at her husband, paying no mind to the blood that immediately stained her dress. Sobbing, her hands scrabbled to find a way to hold him around the restraints that pinned him to the table.
"Kara?" his voice, raw from screaming, still managed to sound incredulous. "Kara?"
Darius leaned in under the lintel, and the movement caught Tharse's eye. The dawning horror on his face was everything Darius could have wished for. If only it could be fulfilled…
"No," Tharse said, watching the cruel smile curve Darius' lips. "No! Leave her out of this!"
Kara was trying to soothe him, her tearful babble all but incomprehensible.
"Shut up!" Darius snarled, the rage and betrayal flaring back to life inside him. "She," he pointed to Kara. "...is under the protection of my wife, much though you left her out of it."
He turned his attention back to Kara and barked "Five minutes!"
He retreated to the hall, closing the door on their naked emotion. Disgust roiled in his gut - he didn't know who it was for.
Yachof leaned back on his heels, his fine eyes half-lidded with feigned boredom. Darius counted time, waiting for him to say what was on his mind.
"Think she'll kill him?" Yachof finally asked.
"No." Darius shook his head dismissively. "Women always think of the children."
Yachof's delicate lips pursed in not-quite-agreement, but he dipped his head to the side to acknowledge the point. They waited out the rest of the five minutes, and Darius opened the door.
"Kara."
Her hands tightened on her husband for a second, but she stood, reluctance in every line of her body. One last spasm of her hand on his and she walked out the door, head high and proud, even as tears ran down her cheeks.
As Darius was closing the door his ears caught the faint words from within, "Thank you, Lord."
He leaned back in long enough to growl, "Thank my wife," before he slammed the door for the last time.