Fault Of Fact – Rough draft Excerpt

While the master sat he thought about the choice to be made. Itassis and himself had almost a storybook romance which would have brought humor in other times because both were very realistic learned people. Neither of them had really thought about love with both instead deciding to work on making their lands better for all. It was in that they had begun to bloom as a couple even spending a couple nights together in each others abode. His at the manor and hers at the main settlement. All of that were just memories as the happiness he was beginning to explore was taken away leaving only a cold ache where his heart would be.

Standing up the decision had been made. These people had hurt him enough that if he was not saddled with the family duties he would not have let it stand. Getting the attention of his wait staff with his action he had told Grast to being packing for a long excursion and to get the boat ready. Still in his grip he had only wished it to be true before beginning to talk while he began clearing his desk of the things he would want to bring. He would leave to go to her burial.

Hopefully, those on the other coast could forgive him for not protecting her. While walking out on everything was still difficult, it was no longer impossible. Being here to continue his duty would not be impossible knowing what the people took from him, the chance of help and the hope of peace snuffed

out left a void of despising loathing blackness where the mayor’s usually inexhaustible faith of the good was. Watching him stand all of the energy that usually defined him was nothing more then a smolder as if the fireplace had been uncared for while everyone slept, faintly casting embers upon his very soul.

“Sarah, do you know how long me and Itassis had been working on a solution for both sides? Do you know how long your lover just sent our whole land back because of negotiations and possible war?”

He ran in to her at full steam flying past Grast before sliding her up the wall. His teeth were clenched in rage while her hands were over his trying to break the seemingly iron grasp. Turning back the older man had to struggle just to try to break the grip.

“Young master, this is not what she would want. Please, Sarah did not know!!

“She’s DEAD!! SHE WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT I Want…”

Dropping his shoulders before turning around moments of her life mad themselves apparent in the stark moonlight. From the desk where both of them would work in to the night finding out ways to make everyone happy. The painting that caught her the first time they had met. The couch where they both shared their first kiss. He could remember how she smirked at his blush. All of it was gone now.

“Grast, I apologize. Go to the settlement, find her body and her belongings. Have it set on the boat. I am going to take her back home. Sarah, you will not be in my sight again. Just knowing what your husband did with the aid of the people in this village I cannot stand right now. Take the night off, now leave.”

The last words were a hiss while the young maid escaped from sight. Grast stood in the light of the doorway while looking at the young master. Silence seemed to stretch onward amazingly before his thoughts were finally verbalized.

“Are you coming back after the funeral?”

Walking by the eyes shown that he had not decided, as he walked down the hall it was clear that the pain had struck him deep. Hobbling to the nearest porters, he had to guess how many people would be needed versus how many were in any condition to ride. Taking the night air as he could it seemed like everything was careening toward a bad end.

“No. Grast I will not be returning. Turning to where Sarah stood he showed no emotion in the hazel of his eyes before continuing, I will not be known for the start of a massacre because of the idiocy of my people.

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