She frowned. “That’s a disturbing mentality to have for someone who will one day be an advisor to a king.”
“He was a Dark.”
“And some think Darks are only those who have lost their way.”
I laughed. “Is that what you think? They’ve made their choices. They’ve set themselves on a path where they know what will happen. There is no one to blame but themselves.”
“I wasn’t speaking of Lartin, though he does add to my point.”
I blinked. “Who the hell were you speaking of? I haven’t murdered anyone—”
“Wan. The Dark Hunter.”
“Wan,” I said. My skin felt cold. “I had nothing to do with Wan.”
“But you were there.”
“How did you—”
She pulled open a drawer of her desk and pulled out a bundled-up newspaper. She slid it across the surface of the desk until it was in front of me. I looked down at it. It was a copy of the City of Lockes Gazette, dated a week ago, just after we’d left for the desert dragon.
“How did you get this?” I asked. “They don’t distribute the Gazette all the way out here.”
“I have my ways. And I thought the story on the front page would interest you.”
I didn’t want to look, because this felt like another of her games. Like this too was an illusion. But curiosity had always been a weakness of mine, and I unfolded the newspaper.
The headline was sensational and accusatory:
DARK DIES IN CAPTIVITY WHILE BEING QUESTIONED BY SAM OF WILDS!
The article was pure speculation, and aside from saying that I was present and that Wan had died, was completely false. It said sources had revealed that Wan was under duress given the Wizard’s apprentice’s interrogation techniques and that Sam of Wilds refused to render aid when it became apparent that there was a medical emergency. It went on, making sure to skirt that fine line of fact and fiction, saying, although this has yet to be corroborated, what has been confirmed by the official spokesperson to the Good King is that Wan the Dark Hunter did indeed pass away while incarcerated. “Details will be provided once the investigation has been completed,” the spokesperson said. “Given the serious nature of the matter, the King cautions his subjects against conjecture, that the truth will come in due time.”
When reached for a comment on the matter, the president of the We-Hate-Sam-A-Lot Castle Lockes Chapter, Lady Tina DeSilva, said, “It is unfortunate that yet another person has met their end by the hands of Sam of Wilds. Allegedly. It is also unfortunate that people are just now learning what I’ve known for years, that Sam of Wilds is a danger to the populace and will stop at nothing until his machinations are fully realized and he has usurped the throne. Allegedly. Since I have my ear to the ground, I’ve heard that Wan the Dark Hunter met an end similar to that of Lartin the Dark Leaf, violent and bloody, which is no surprise, given Sam’s unending rage. Allegedly. And where is Ryan Foxheart in all of this? One might say he is complicit, but one would be wrong. In fact, if one says that at all, one should be dragged out into the street and tarred and feathered for having the audacity to say something so atrocious—ahem. Excuse me. What I meant to say is that an operation to rescue Ryan Foxheart from the clutches of Sam of Wilds should be mounted immediately and performed without regard to Sam’s life. Ryan is undoubtedly under some sort of mind-control spell because that is the only reason he would have left Prince Justin at the altar. Ryan must be returned where he belongs, at the side of the Prince, so they can be in love and have babies and hold hands and whisper how much they love each other and give each other forehead kisses, because everyone knows that forehead kisses are the sweetest and most adorable thing that has ever existed. Long live Rystin!”
It should be noted that a petition to have Sam of Wilds removed from his position as the apprentice to the King’s Wizard has garnered over ten thousand signatures….
I set the paper down.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
It didn’t matter that I was out here, so far from home, working off a prophecy from the gods in order to save the world. It didn’t matter that the very people I was trying to protect were apparently turning against me. None of that mattered. It didn’t change anything. I would still do what was being asked of me. When this was all said and done, the people of Verania would see that everything I’d done had been to protect them. They’d see. They’d all see.
I ignored the little voice that whispered I was lying to myself. That I’d done this for selfish reasons. That I was here because I couldn’t let Ryan die. That I hadn’t even thought of the fate of the world.
“I can’t control what they think,” I said, voice even. “And there’s nothing in here based in fact.”
“True,” she said with a nod of her head. “But since when is the news concerned about truth?”
“Was there a point you were trying to make?”
“My point, Sam, is that I am trying to help you become the leader I know you’ll be. You may not believe this, but I want nothing but the best for you, chava. I want you to succeed.”
“But you want me to do it the way you say.”
She shrugged. “Can’t the same be said for Morgan? For Randall? Are you or are you not following the path they set for you?”