A/N: September first. We're closing in on a full year since I published the first chapter of this story. It's almost been a year since Vampires Don't Exist ended. Can you believe that? And a year since I published Just One Dance.
Also, happy back to school season! *crickets* Really? No one happy to go back? *silence* Alright, on with the fan fiction, then!
Chapter Fifty-One: A Proposition
As the queen walked out, Dorian turned to Chaol.
"I'm going to talk to my father about the murders."
"What? No, Dorian, you're already in enough trouble as it is. You don't want to land yourself in even worse of a mess!" His tone was warning, but his eyes were concerned. Dorian appreciated that. "If you talk to him, you'll simultaneously eliminate any bit of surprise and edge we have along with any bit of good regard he has for you!"
"Exactly! I'm already in so much trouble, how could it possibly get any worse? And someone needs to tell him that they know he's behind it! Maybe he'll think twice about it—we could go to the press with this, completely destroy him. And besides, if he's behind this all then maybe we could get him right now. All we need is for him to admit to what he's done." He wasn't sure what he'd do yet, but he was going to make sure that his father didn't leave that room without being convicted or dead.
"We don't know he's behind it, though!" Chaol groaned. "We only know that Perrington's involved! And sure, all signs point to your father as well, but we have no evidence!"
"I don't care that we don't have evidence. I need to talk to him about this. In private, where hopefully he'll give me some answers. This has been going on for far too long now."
"And I don't care that you think that, Dorian! He could literally kill you for this! Especially if we're right about him! Your name is already on the list, Dorian, as a possibility. Do you really want it to become inevitable?"
"I'm going, Chaol, and you can't stop me." His voice was so forceful that Chaol decided that he better step aside. In reality, Dorian made sure to give Chaol's mind a nice little push with his magic. It was just to calm Chaol down a little, and he swore silently that he'd never do it again. He just had a feeling in his gut that confronting his father was what he needed to do.
"Fine. But this is a really bad idea, and if you end up dead because of this I will never forgive you for it!"
"Noted," Dorian responded, and marched out of the room. "Things need to be fixed," he called over his shoulder.
Chaol groaned. This was not going to end well, but sometimes, there was just no stopping the prince.
Dorian marched into the throne room where his father was lounging on his glass chair examining a sheet of paper.
"Leave us," Dorian commanded, his gaze fixed on the king.
The king nodded to the guards and servants in the room, who all filed out.
"What do you want?" the king asked. "I sense a fire burning in your soul. What's gotten you so riled up, my son?"
"This has to end, father. I know what's going on."
"Do you now?" the king asked, raising an eyebrow. "And what is it that you think you know?"
"I know that you're behind the murders. I know that you are considering killing me. And I know you are considering Chaol, too. And several others as well. They've defied you, these people, and you've been sending Perrington to fix them up, haven't you? To shut their mouths forever. And that lord that Chaol saved? You killed him yourself, didn't you? When you walked in to talk to Chaol you slipped the lord some sort of poison so that he couldn't tell anyone about what had really happened."
Dorian was struggling to keep a hold on his magic. He'd been practicing for years now, but he still had slight issues every once and awhile, especially when he got emotional, and accusing his father of murder was pretty emotional for him, and it was all topped off by their conversation the previous night.
He felt ripples of cold move through the air.
"No, you're right," his father cooed. "What I'm doing is wrong. And I promise that I'll stop."
Dorian paused. That was not an honest answer. And paired with a simple admission? "What's the catch?" he asked skeptically. The King of Adarlan would never so easily surrender himself, nor would admit to something such as this.
"Such a perceptive boy," his father smiled. "I was thinking we could duel. I want you gone, you want me gone—or at the very least, locked up," he added when he saw Dorian's face. "We both know that each of us feels that the other is an abomination, so winner gets their way. Loser… gets to see the afterlife."
"A duel?" Dorian asked. "I can't agree to that."
He knew he'd lose. He hadn't practiced with a sword in ages, and that was the weapon his father was sure to choose—he was virtually unstoppable with Nothung in his grasp.
The king would come out on top of this, no matter what. Not only was his father skilled with a sword, but he was also an incredibly smart man. He would always be several steps ahead of Dorian, no matter what the prince attempted.
And not only that, but this man was his father. No matter what the king had done in the past—he was still Dorian's father.
"I think you can. You're afraid you'll lose. But I know you better than that—you think more about others than yourself." The king said it with a sneer. "You know I won't stop because you beg me to. You also know you'll have to leave here—one way or another. I want you out of my way. So, you can either die with dignity, trying to protect people"—the king rolled his eyes—"or you can live in exile the rest of your life, or end up dead anyway—because that's how I'd prefer you. Dead men can't speak. So, what do you say? A duel?"
"What is this really?" Dorian cocked his head. What did his father have in that odd mind of his? He seemed so confident with himself—what did he have up his sleeve?
"A magic duel," his father whispered.
Dorian watched his father. "How do you know about that? The magic?"
"Because I can feel it inside of you, growing. You still have magic, though everyone else does not, because of me. I freed it for myself, and in doing so I must have passed on that freedom to you without knowing it. But despite not knowing of my mistake, I started noticing what was going on inside of you a while back—probably when you were around 14 or 15. Tell me—when did you discover it inside of yourself?"
Dorian calculated his response, but then decided that it shouldn't get him in any more trouble than he was already in. After all, his father was proposing a duel to the death.
"I was 13."
"And when did you start practicing?"
"How do you know I've been practicing?"
The king laughed softly. "I love your spark. You always want to learn more, and you ask the right questions. It's such a shame that you enjoy sticking your nose in places where it shouldn't be. After all, this could have easily been avoided if you'd just done as you were told, believed what was said. Regardless, I know because of how much this has grown inside of you. It would not have done so naturally."
Dorian nodded. "Alright." His father wouldn't stop—he understood that. He had no choice. One way or another, this was going to end—tonight.
"Is that an 'alright' to dueling?" the king asked.
"Yes. I will duel with you." Dorian took a deep breath. "To the death."
Chapter Release Date: September 1, 2018
