The Curse Of A Stranger's Gift 25 Father

She suppressed a sob when the door creaked. "L—leave me alone," she whispered.

Vladimir ignored her and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm here to apologize." He swallowed. "I admit I'd lied but it was for your own—"

"Zip it. I don't want to hear your excuse." She blinked profusely, stopping her tears from flowing.

He brushed the top of his head. "Listen, Zheira. There are things that you shouldn't have learn—"

"You cannot decide that!" She sat upright, releasing a steamy glare. "You have no right to choose whether or not I need to know such things. All I want is for you to be honest, but you fooled me with your words." Her fist was shaking as she balled it.

"You're not being fair." His eyes stared at the ground as though it's the most interesting thing. "You've broken your promise, too."

"This isn't about that—"

"Are you going to shut me out by just one lie?" He looked at her. His brows were furrowed while his lips curved sadly. "You're not even giving me a chance to explain."

Her heart crumpled and pain flashed in her irises. She opened her mouth, changed her mind, then closed it again. His words caught her off-guard. Before her tears could betray her, she concealed herself in the blanket.

His hand shot in the air, hovering inches from Zheira's erected shoulder. He'd have a second thought, clenched his fist, and put it inside the pocket of his cloak. "I'll give you time to think." He stood and made his way to the king's quarter. His hands were shaking as well as his jaws.

He bustled through the door with his head held high. His footsteps were heavy as he walked towards the king's throne; he stopped the moment he felt gazes steaming from the room. The Elite guards were standing in each post, wearing their gray cloaks; the castle's crest was encrypted on the higher region of their chest. It's clear they're not happy with his presence around.

Near the king was Eleanor who had her brow raised while her long, pale arms were folded in her chest. Louise, on the other hand, had his left knee lowered to the heavily matted ground while the other was buckled strongly. His mouth was parted, perhaps he had been talking before Vladimir entered.

He ignored the glare Louise was giving and stared instead at her father, who had his head inclined while sitting on his golden chair.

The king caressed the arm-rest, and a gong-like sound issued from his touch. The corner of his lips was raised as his red eyes focused on Vladimir. "To whom do I owe the favor, my son?"

Vladimir glared, letting a snarl issued from his throat. "Why did you do it?" he asked with gritted teeth.

The king faked a laugh. He pointed himself. "Why did I do what?" he murmured, his lower lip overpowering the upper.

"Stop the c.r.a.p! I know you're the one who did it." He looked down with his fist balled, stopping the urge to attack his father.

Louise b.u.t.t in, "Forgive me, your majesty! But, I think your son has forgotten who he's talking to." Angry lines draw his face.

"What do you expect from a traitor?" Eleanor replied with mockery tracing every part of her porcelain face. The Elite's hisses of agreement followed.

"Ssh, ssh, dear ones! Let us refrain ourselves from insulting our guest. He, I believe, is mistaken, and he's here to amend all of that. Right?" The king inclined his head while looking at his son intently.

"Tell me why you did it?" Vladimir asked for the last time. The short string of his patience was starting to run out.

"My son, what have I done? Probably, I have not interrupted you for so long nor have I been pestering you. In fact, I've been too merciful to even let you bring that filthy mortal." His hands were outstretched while he tried s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g his scarred face.

Vladimir's face turned red. His breathing was heavy as he yelled, "Why have you let her see it?" He didn't want to be reckless. His father wasn't the type to forgive easily. Zheira might be in trouble if he wouldn't be cautious.

"Oh!" The king's mouth curved slightly into a simper. "Was she able to decipher it? That easy?" His eyes twinkled. "She's starting to impress me."

"What are you intending to do?"

The king chuckled. "None, of course!" He shook his head. "I must commend you, though. You fabricated your thoughts and even your memory just to make her believe. I wonder how long will it take for her to find out."

Gulping, Vladimir diverted his gaze. "I—I don't know what you mean."

"You don't have to lie. I know everything, my son! I could read your thoughts from here. You're trying to calculate things, weighing your chances." The king walked slowly towards him, making the Elite moved closer towards him, but he shook his hands. "Why? Why are you so intent to hide what you've done, Vladimir? Are you afraid she'll leave you for good?"

"Shut up!" Vladimir clenched his fist so hard his skin turned reddish.

The king pats his head. "I know their deaths weigh on your consciousness. You're slowly overcome by remorse. You don't really love her. You're just taking care of her, so you can erase your guilt. You're no different from me!"

"You don't know anything!" He looked at him straight in the eyes. "Stop letting her see things that she's not ready to know or else you'll lose your heir." He turned. Tears were threatening to spill in the corner of his eyes. His father's words echoed in his head, taking him from sanity.

The king laughed darkly. "I'll lose my heir? I'm starting to pity you, my son! Your threat is futile. Do you really think it did not cross my mind that you will refuse? Tch. Tch. You have too much to learn and too much to master. I tell you this, you'll never be able to protect her with that strength."

Vladimir turned abruptly, glaring at the king, who stared at him sanctimoniously. "I can. Even if that's the last thing I will do," he affirmed.

"Oh! The question is, will she let you protect her once she found out the root of her parent's death? The real reason why they'll have to die?" The king shook his head. "You have washed your hand but it was too hasty, you left a crumb and it will stain everything."

A s.h.i.+ver ran down Vladimir's spine. "She doesn't have to know."

"Sadly, I hold the truth. I'm warning you! One wrong move, and you'll lose her." The king sat to his throne with a triumphant look encrypted in his face.

He left the king's quarter with his heart so heavy with guilt and regrets. It had not crossed his mind lately that he'd been one of the reasons why Zheira had to be an orphan. Maybe his father was right, he washed his hand by saving the poor mortal, forgetting along the way that he somehow triggered her parent's death.

His back hit the wall as he collapsed. He wrapped his knees with his hands and let his head leaned to it. It was a great mistake going back to his father's terrain. The reality he's trying to escape from flourished in his consciousness. Alic died because of his recklessness. He's way to full of himself that it was too late for him to save her. If he could have learned his gift a little earlier, he could have controlled it.

"d.a.m.n!" he yelled as his fist connected to the ground; cracks danced to it with the impact of his strength.

Eleanor's throaty laugh made him stop. She was leaning on a wall opposite to him. "You look pathetic right now? You've changed."

"Leave me alone!" He punched the ground once more. Every time a bruise made its way to his knuckles, it would heal in a blink of light.

"If you really want to protect her that much, tell her the truth. Don't let the king used it against you." Eleanor crossed her arms while looking down at him.

"Why does it even matter to you—"

"Let's just say that it's the last of my respect to the prince I came to know." She smiled slightly before walking away from him.

He closed his eyes. It's easier than done. He yelled one last time before creating a hole to the ground out of his fist.