Shadows Of Desire

Luther Thorn stormed into Killian’s room after him. Greagor and his guards guided the young Lord into his bed chamber and though he fought them at first, finally relented and allowed them to lay him on his bed.

Greagor bowed to Luther as he entered the room, demanding to know what was going on and why his son had been dragged from the banquette hall.

“Your Grace.” Greagor greeted the older man as the two guards who had accompanied him left the Lord’s chambers. “The Princess Emilia had ordered us to bring her husband back here and put him to bed.”

“Why?” The Grand Duke snapped. “What right does she have to treat my son, her husband, with such disrespect?”

“My apologies, your Grace but Lord Killian was acting in a most irrational manner. The Princess feared for his safety and ordered him removed from the hall. I believe he has been in his cups and needs a night to sleep it off.”

“I’ve not been behaving irrationally.” Killian pushed himself up from the bed and stared at his father, red eyed and obviously distraught. “And I’ve barely drank a thing. No one believes me but I’ve got the Devil on my heels!”

Luther sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. “Thank you, Greagor. I can take him from here.”

Greagor bowed to The Grand Duke and to Killian then exited the room. Outside, in the receiving room, the two guards waited for their captain. Both men were chuckling to themselves over something when Greagor appeared before them. They stopped talking at once and stood at attention.

“And just what were the two of you laughing about?” Greagor asked as he looked each of them over with mild annoyance.

“Sir.” The taller of the two men spoke. “We were just commenting on Lord Thorn’s...condition, Sir.”

Greagor raised and eyebrow, curiously. “And, what condition might that be?”

“Sir, he’s obviously three sheets to the wind.” The second Guard, a stocky youth with sandy colored hair, proclaimed with a slight smirk.

“Hm.” Greagor stroked his beard. “I fear it’s more serious than that.” He remarked.

“What do you think ails him?” The first Guard asked, relaxing a bit in his stance.

“Madness.” Greagor said. “I fear the Lord’s mind is gone. Probably brought on by grief over the death of The Prince. He’s not been right since the funeral.”

Greagor stood watching the men who now had a more dire expression on each of their faces. “It makes me wonder.” He said, speaking to no one in general as it was more of a passing thought than anything else. He took a moment to ponder his own words then turned his attention back to his men. “Armin, you and Walt will remain here. Guard the Lord and report back to me if you see or hear anything suspicious.”

“Yes, Captain.” Both men responded in unison. Greagor gave one final nod then left the room. Armin and Walt moved into place near the bedchamber doors and stood guard. From within the room they could hear Killian ranting to his father, the Grand Duke, about the ghost that he claimed was tormenting him. Armin was about to dismiss his rants as the ramblings of a madman when something Killian had said caught his attention.

He leaned his ear against the door to better hear the conversation. Walt looked at him, questioningly. Armin held up a hand, telling the other guard to “wait” as he listened in on the private conversation between Lord Killian and his father. Walt too leaned his ear against the door, curious as to what had his friend so interested. Suddenly, he pulled back, eyes wide and stared at Armin as though he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Walt mouthed the word “Rowan?" Armin put his finger to his lips, urging Walt to remain silent as they listened in.

“There is nothing haunting you, son. It’s all in your imagination.” It was Luther speaking now. “All you need is rest.”

“Rest?” Killian practically screamed at his father. “How can I rest when all I hear through the night is his constant wailing and whispers in my head?”

“I’ll speak to the court physician. I’m sure he has something that will help you sleep.”

“No!” Killian shouted. “I must stay vigilant. He’ll come for me in the night. He always does. If for one moment I let my guard down it will be the end of me!”

“Think about what you are saying.” The Grand Duke persisted. “How crazy it all sounds. And even if what you say is true, why would he come after you? You didn’t kill him. He took his own life.”

“Because of me.” Killian groaned. “He’s dead because of me, because of what I did to him. Now he’s back to torment me and he won’t stop until I’ve paid for my role in his death.”

Armin looked to Walt, the concern clear on his face. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Walt opened his mouth to speak but Armin shook his head. He wanted to hear more.

The Grand Duke continued to argue with his son, trying to convince Lord Killian that he was not responsible but the Duke’s words had fallen on deaf ears. Lord Killian was convinced of his own guilt.

“It matters not what you say father for a I know the truth. I used him. Used him to spite Lady Emilia who pursued me relentlessly though I had little interest in her. I thought a marriage to Rowan would cease her unwanted attentions. I was quite taken with him as well. He seemed such an exotic beauty and I knew that I had to possess him for my own. He rejected me though. He never wanted me. He even begged his father not to force him to wed me but I was determined to have him. Even if meant he would hate me for it.”

“Hush now.” Luther warned in a gentle whisper. “Say no more. These walls have ears, who knows who could be listening.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Killian said, his voice sounding broken. He was on the verge of tears. “Rowan will have his vengeance. It matters little now who knows my sins.”

Armin jumped back as he suddenly heard a loud bang and the door he was leaning against vibrated from the force of the blow. Lord Killian had punched the door in his anguish and was now softly weeping, probably with his head against the door.

Walt took a step back, the shock and bewilderment was clear on his face. “Did...did he murder the Prince?” He whispered, looking to Armin for clarification.

Armin just stared at him for the moment, unsure how to answer that. Honestly, he didn’t know. It was possible he supposed. If Rowan had rejected Killian as Killian had said. Perhaps the rejection sparked a fury within the young lord that he was unable to control and had killed his betrothed in a fit of rage. But no, Rowan had been poisoned. Such a murder would be deliberate, planned, and carried out with care. A murder of passion would be...messier.

“It seems...” Armin shook his head as he carefully chose the words he would speak next. “I think it is possible that he may have killed our Prince or, at least had a hand in his death. Either way, we should report this to the Captain.”

Walt nodded. He looked back to the door and frowned, his face becoming dark and troubled.

“What is it?” Armin asked.

Walt let out a deep breath and turned to face Armin. His eyes narrowed and his expression dire. “If Lord Killian could be responsible for the death of the Prince...” He paused for a moment, moving closer to Armin as he spoke. His voice was low and guarded and shook with unease. “Do you think maybe he...”

“Say no more.” Armin warned him, glancing again to the door. The question hung, unspoken between them but they both were thinking the same thing. If Killian were capable of murdering the Prince, he would be capable of killing the King as well. Perhaps they had been searching for the wrong man all along. Armin shivered internally. The Queen had clearly remembered an elven servant as the assassin but if Killian had been the killer than that meant one of two things. Either the Queen was in shock and her memory had failed her, or she was involved and had covered up the truth.

Armin groaned. Something was terribly amiss within the Palace walls and the mystery was growing deeper. Who could be trusted now? “We should report to the Captain at once.” Armin whispered. “And say nothing to anyone else. The Captain will know how to proceed.”

Walt nodded but before he could say more, the double doors of the bedchamber burst open and Killian rushed past them, out of the reviving room, through the antechamber and out into the corridor. The two guards were frozen in shock as the Grand Duke next ran past them, shouting at Killian to stop. He paused, looked to the guards and hissed at them. “What are you two standing around for? After him, you fools!” Luther raced away, following his son, his pleas to return echoing down the hallway.

Armin and Walt took off down the hall after the Grand Duke and his son. “Halt!” Armin shouted but Killian would not listen. On and on he ran, coming to the end of the hall where he entered the winding stair case that led to the fourth level of the Palace. He raced up the steps, two at a time with Luther and the two guards close behind. Once he’d reached the fourth floor landing he darted to the right, sprinting down the hall. With a sickening revelation, Armin understood where Killian was going. He was headed for Princess Emilia’s personal apartments.

“Stop!” Armin bellowed. His voice was deep, hard, and commanding but Killian did not stop. “In the name of the Queen I order you to stop!” He shouted again.

On Killian ran, ignoring the shouts of the other men as though he hadn’t even heard them. When he made it to Emilia’s door he didn’t even try the handle, figuring it would be locked. Instead he kicked the door in with such force that it splintered then broke away. He barreled into the room, much to the horror of the ladies that were gathered in the receiving room. They protested as he barged through the room and to the door leading to Emilia’s bedchamber. One of the ladies reached out to stop him but he slapped her hand away.

Before he could even reach the chamber though, the doors were flung open and the Princess stood there, staring at Killian with a look of complete contempt.

Killian narrowed his eyes and his lips curled into an ugly scowl as he growled. “You.” His eyes began to turn red and his hands clenched into clawed fists. Blood dripped from his fists where his nails bit into his flesh.

“What the hell are you doing?” Emilia snapped at him, looking to the shattered door and the frightened ladies that had backed against the far wall, shivering against each other.

“Is it true?” Killian demanded, his voice sounding cold and demonic. “Did you kill him?”

Emilia huffed, crossing her arms at her chest as she stared at him smugly, one eyebrow raised. She pursed her lips. “I have no idea what you are talking about but I suggest you...”

Before she could finish her sentence, Killian lunged forward and grabbed her by the throat. He wrapped his icy fingers around her slender neck and squeezed, his claws sinking into her delicate flesh causing a spray of blood to hit him in the face. Emilia gasped, her scream choked off as he tightened his grip. Her hands went to her neck and she clawed at his hand, trying to force him to release her.

“I’ll kill you.” He growled then he flung her backwards, violently, tapping into all the strength he could muster. Emilia flew through the air, hitting the far wall of her bedchambers. Her head smacked against the stone with a sickening crunch. A trail of blood smeared against the wall as she slid down to the floor, shaking and whimpering as she reached back and touched her throbbing head. When she brought her hand around to her face and saw the blood she began to scream for the guards to come and help her.

“He’s gone mad!” She wailed in both fear and anger. Killian lunged for her again, screaming over and over that he was going to end her. Luther grabbed a hold of him before he could once again attack and he fought against his father with a strength he didn’t even know he had. Armin and Walt appeared beside the struggling men and it took all three to finally subdue him.

“Murderer!” Killian screamed at Emilia. “You vile, disgusting, harpy! You killed him! You killed the only man I’ve ever loved.”

“Shut your mouth you raving lunatic.” Armin sneered at him.

“How could you?” Killian continued to sob, glaring hatefully at Emilia. “Why? Why him? Why couldn’t you just kill me?” Finally, he stopped fighting and collapsed on the floor, sobbing, completely destroyed.

“You’re insane.” Emilia hissed as her ladies helped her to stand up again. “If anyone is responsible for Rowan’s death it is you. If you had never come into his life he would be alive still. You killed him. You are to blame.”

Killian looked up, his eyes red and his face blanched as all color had drained from him. He shook his head slowly. “You lie.” He groaned. “You and your bitch mother. All lies. You killed him. You’ll pay for what you’ve done. Rowan will have his revenge. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Get him out of my sight.” Emilia commanded the guards. “Lock him in the east Tower. The Queen will decide his fate in the morning.”

“Yes, Princess.” Armin pulled Killian to his feet and he and Walt dragged him out of the room. Killian did not fight or protest as he was led away. He only continued weeping and spouting accusations against Emilia and the Queen.

“Please, your Majesty.” Luther took a knee and bowed before Emilia. “Please, I beg you. Have mercy on my son. He’s not in his right mind.”

Emilia stared down at the Duke, the look on her face was one of disgust. “What happens to him now rests in my mother’s hands but if I were you, I would start making funeral arrangements.” Emilia turned away from him then and returned to her bedchambers, slamming the door closed, loudly behind her. Luther rose to his feet slowly, suddenly feeling like he’d aged a hundred years in the last ten minutes.

With his head hung in shame and worry, the Grand Duke turned, and wandered aimless out of the Princess’s apartment and back into the corridor beyond, fearing what the future held for him and his far gone son. Walking through the dreary, haunted hallway, Luther stopped and pressed a hand against the wall as a cold chill ripped through him. As soon as the Queen heard of Killian’s actions she would order his execution for sure. Luther cringed as another, terrible thought entered his mind. Once Killian was dead, what would stop the Queen from ordering Luther to be arrested as well.

He touched a hand to his throat as though checking to make sure his head was still firmly attacked to his neck. No, he couldn’t allow himself to be taken as well. Killian’s fate was sealed. There was nothing that Luther could do for him now. No amount of begging would save his life. Not after attempting to murder the Princess Emilia. Queen Caroline would never stand for that. Luther could save himself though. He could flee the Palace and return to his home in Grayholm. Once there the Queen would no longer see him as a threat.

He’d learned his lesson well and would not repeat the same mistakes. If only he’d had the sense to keep his mouth shut earlier this would never have happened. Apparently his words had come with no hindsight. Oh, well. In the future he would not allow himself to be so easily distracted. Not when a wagging tongue could cost him his life.

***

Killian sat on the edge of the bed where Armin and Walt had deposited him. The room was much smaller than he was used to but still held all of the same comforts of the guest suites. There was a bathing room to the right of the bedchamber and a small sitting room with a fire place, a table and chair where he could take meals, and one window that over looked the court yard.

The bed was large and made with sheets and a quilt that was fit for royalty. There was another fire place in the bedchamber and a small table next to the bed. There were no windows in the bedchamber but Killian didn’t mind. He had no desire to look out them anyway. Rowan’s apparition had ceased walking through the gardens or the court yard and now roamed the somber halls of the Palace. Doors would not hold him as he seemed to melt through them as easily as he melted in and out of the shadows.

Would he stop haunting Killian, he wondered. Now that the truth was out. At least, he knew the truth now. Whether anyone would believe him or not he did not know. It didn’t matter really though. He would more than likely be dead before morning. Either Rowan’s spirit would see to his demise, or the Queen herself would kill him. Now that he knew what she was capable of and what she had done, he had no doubt in his mind that he would be the next one found murdered in his bed.

He laughed bitterly as he thought, what a fitting end to his life. Struck down while peacefully asleep, oblivious to the goings on around him. He’d always imagined such a death though in his imaginings it was the angry husband of whatever Lady he’d been bedding who would murder him. Not the Queen or her spoiled shrew of a daughter. Thinking of Emilia made his blood boil. He hated her. Hated her more now than ever before. He would have killed her had his sniveling coward of a father not pulled him off.

He hated Luther too for his part in all this treachery. Luther knew. The entire time he knew what the Queen and her daughter were up to. He knew that it was Emilia, aided by her mother, who had killed Rowan. When his father had revealed the truth to Killian, he was shocked at first and then the anger sat in. Anger like he had never felt before in his life.

Luther had taken Killian by the shoulders, shaking him as he shouted at him, trying to make him see reason. The Luther pulled him away from the door, begging him to stop saying such things before someone hears. Finally, Luther had dragged Killian to the other side of the room and looked his son dead in the eye and that’s when he had told him the truth.

“This phantom you see is a product of your own imagination son, I know this to be a fact. If it were real, it would not be you that he haunted. This I know because it was not you who killed him, nor did he die by his own hand. He was murdered, as you suspect, but you are not the one that he would hold responsible!”

“What do you mean?” Killian snarled, ripping free on his father’s grasp. “Father, what do you know?”

The Grand Duke then sighed and looked to the floor. Shame and guilt washed over him and he tried to turn his face away, unable to look at Killian but Killian wouldn’t allow him to look away. He grabbed the collar of his father’s shirt and yanked him forward, again he growled, “What do you know? Tell me!”

Shaking his head, the Grand Duke revealed all that he knew. He told Killian of Rowan’s desire to escape his fate. At first he had thought of ending his life but in the end he could not go through with it. Instead, he wanted to run but did not know how. That was when Emilia came to him. She made him believe that she had wanted to help him. Not because she cared about him but because she wanted him out of the way. She gave him a vial. A drug that she promised would render him unconscious and make him appear to all that he was dead.

She had told him that it was false death though, and that he would again awaken. With the entire Palace thinking him dead, Rowan would be able to escape Basmorte and start a new life elsewhere. Rowan believed her and so he took the drug, not realizing that what she had actually given him was witches Moss. Hearing the name of the poison Killian knew at once what it was. A poison so deadly that no vampire, not even an ancient, could ever survive it. Emilia had tricked Rowan into killing himself by providing him with a poison that would surely kill him.

The deception was too much for Killian to bear. To think that Emilia had murdered Rowan simply to have Killian for her own. He was once again wracked with guilt. If he had just accepted Emilia and not pursued Rowan. Luther tried to convince him that this was not the case at all. Even had Killian accepted her, Emilia would still have killed Rowan. She and her mother had planned it all from the beginning. They wanted to overthrow the King and take the throne. To do that though, they needed Rowan out of the way. They couldn’t allow him to marry because then his husband would inherit the throne. The only solution was to kill him.

Killian narrowed his eyes at his father, tightening his grip on the man’s collar. “So, Caroline was the one who murdered the King?” He asked.

Luther nodded. “And then blamed the murder on a servant.”

Killian flung his father backward, causing the man to lose his balance and fall to the floor. “And how is it that you know all this?” Killian demanded. “What part did you have to play in all this, father?”

“The Queen needed my allegiance.” Luther told him. His lip quivered as he spoke. His head hung in shame and his eyes filled with tears. “She needed to know that the nobles would follow her once the King was dead. She knew that if she had me in her back pocket that the others would fall in line. If any were to oppose her, I was simply to sway them to her side. It wasn’t difficult. Most of the nobles hated the King. They were ready to see someone new take the throne and so they welcomed the Queen with much enthusiasm.”

“And what did she promise you?” Killian sneered. “Because I know that you would not keep her secrets without a price.”

“Please.” The Duke sobbed. “I was only thinking of you and your future.”

“Answer me!” Killian yelled. “What did she promise you?”

The Duke got to his knees, cowering before his son. “She promised me that you would one day take the throne as King with Emilia as your Queen.”

“Pig.” Killian hissed between clenched teeth. “You selfish, disgusting pig! All this just to sate your own greed.”

“And to secure your own future.” Luther protested.

“Stop.” Killian growled. “Don’t you dare say that you did any of this for me. I know how your mind works, father. You did this to elevate your own status. The irony is, you might have gotten what you wanted had I married Rowan, the King’s true heir. But no, you had to follow a false Queen, a heretic. Now, none of your plans will be seen to fruition for I’m going to bring it all down on your heads.”

“Please, I beg of you.” Luther cried out in desperation. “Forget these things that I’ve told you. You can not bring back the dead but you can live out your life in relative peace and harmony. Just stop with these ravings of ghosts and revenge. Be a good husband to your wife, swear your loyalty to the Queen, and one day you will be King.”

“What life do I have without Rowan?” His voice became softer, a hint of sorrow in his words.

“You can’t mean that you actually cared for the boy.” Luther scoffed.

“But I did.” Killian glared at him. “If I have ever loved anyone in my life it was him. But, his death has closed and blackened my heart and I will make those responsible for his death pay. I will make them pay with their lives and see their souls burn for eternity in hell.”

“You’re insane if you think you can take on the Queen.” Luther told him. His tone was scolding and cold. “The Queen is ruthless. If you challenge her, she will cut you down.”

“Perhaps I am mad.” Killian told him. “But, I’d rather be dead then live with this pain in my heart.”

Before Luther could stop him, Killian had burst through the doors of his chambers and rushed past the two guards standing outside. Luther begged him to stop, fearing what he might do, but Killian was determined to take revenge on the one responsible for the death of his beloved.

Now, here he was, locked in a tower and Emilia still lived. All Killian could do at this point was accept his fate and await his own death.

“Come to me now my love.” He whispered into the empty room. “Take your revenge. I will not fight you. Better to die by your hand than let the bitch Queen have the satisfaction.”

He lay back on the bed, folded his arms over his chest, closed his eyes, and waited. If Sheul were merciful, he would not have to wait too long.