Page 48 of A Simple Truth (the Freckled Fate #2)

47

GIDEON

I swirled the bitter liquid in my mouth, slowly swallowing it. I didn’t even bother getting a bottle, the huge, wooden mug quickly refilling with the red fluid straight from the hefty barrel. I took another sip.

Gods, it wasn’t even good wine.

“Cheap bastard,” I hissed, sitting on the cold ground. I threw my head back and swallowed more of the sour drink. The large storage tent, filled with wine barrels delivered from Lachlan last week, was encompassed with inky darkness. The pounding headache was becoming quite apparent now, though it was a minor inconvenience compared to the gushing wound within my heart.

These cups had to be awfully small as I found myself constantly pouring more, then gulping it all at once. I was aware this did nothing, solved nothing, but in this instance, I didn’t fucking care. It was painful enough to fight the urge to descend so deep within the Numb that I wouldn’t even know what the word feeling meant. In fact, right now, the Numb sounded so addictingly pleasant, but this —I raised up the cup in the air cheering myself—was the next best thing.

Plus, the Numb never got rid of memories, but perhaps if I got drunk enough, I’d forget the last few hours of my life.

“One could only wish for…” I spoke to myself before chugging another cup.

“There he is. Thanks, Liriya,” Orest sounded, discovering my hidden reprieve.

“You are such a snitch, Liriya!” I shouted half-drunkenly to the large bird flying away. “I heard grilled ravens taste like chicken...”

Orest raised his brow at me in question.

“G-o-o away, I’m sulking,” I drew out, closing my eyes. My thoughts were gradually quieting—finally, a fucking win.

“You missed the league’s training.” Orest’s voice was laced with aggravation.

I rubbed my forehead. Fuck . I forgot I was supposed to help, only now remembering. Orest was determined to take the win from the Ten this year.

Broderick, Oleyg, Bear, Ivan, Daibog, and the rest of my battalion commanders and Orest’s league members now crammed inside the tent.

“Serve yourself, gentlemen.” I motioned to the barrels surrounding me.

“Troy will be mad at you for moving into his well-guarded provisions tent,” Orest said, folding his arms, as he rested against one of the barrels. A few of the commanders grabbed a couple of cups, not even filling them halfway. What pathetic drinking buddies. “Where are the guards, by the way?” Orest questioned.

“I gave them the day off.” I raised my cup up as he shook his head with disapproval at my wretched look.

“How gracious of you,” my Second replied.

“Anyone else want days off? I feel extra charitable today,” I carelessly said, avoiding Orest’s piercing glare as I filled my cup to the brim once more.

“I mean, I could take a few days off. Motra and I were thinking of going away to the village for a day or two.” Bear’s long beard shook as he laughed, passing his cup to Oleyg.

“Orest will murder us all if we don’t get ready for the games, and then, when we are all dead, we can rest.” Broderick smirked, taking a sip. Orest smiled slyly, not denying the possibility.

“What happened?” Orest sighed as he passed on the cup to the next battalion commander without drinking.

“Why does anything need to happen? Can one not enjoy a cup of wine occasionally in peace?” I retorted.

“No, they ” —Orest motioned to the nine men scattered in the dark around the tent— “are enjoying a cup. You are at a barrel's worth, at this point.”

“I hold my liquor quite well. It’s rather a gift,” I replied.

“Come on, Gideon, last time you were this drunk was the day your uncle died. What happened?” Daibog chimed in.

“The question is not what…but rather, who?” Ivan motioned with his wrist, exposing his wedding band with the ring attached to it. “I’ve been married long enough to say that only a Destroyer woman can cause this much damage.”

“Our boy is in love!” Bear loudly laughed, my body wincing at the brash noise. “Welcome to the club, Lord of Death.” He grinned, toasting the air with his empty cup.

Love .

I fucking despised the word. I had no interest in being in love.

You are brutal, insufferable, incredibly, unbelievably arrogant, lacking basic humility… and whatever else she spat at me. Finn’s words echoed in my mind, haunting me. Words that I’d been trying to drown but they somehow drowned me instead.

I do not wish to entertain any foolish ideas. Not now—not ever.

I should’ve said fuck you too and yet, here I was, hoping to get so fucking drunk that I wouldn’t be able to walk down to her tent and beg on my knees for her to give me another chance. To beg her to love me, because I needed her so desperately that I felt like my lungs collapsed onto themselves at the thought of living without her presence.

“What is all of this?” Zora’s voice sounded in the dark as her and Cass appeared. “What are you all doing here?” she charged, glancing around and narrowing her eyes at Orest.

“League meeting. What are you doing here?” he replied confidently, straightening up.

“Girl business,” Cass answered instead, glancing over at me with what I could only guess was pity, but she couldn’t feel worse for me than I already did.

“What kind of girl business do you all have in Troy’ s provision tent?” Daibog smirked, sending a wink to his wife. Cass just shook her head, smiling.

“This kind.” She easily pushed one of the barrels down, rolling it out of the tent.

“Troy will poison us all tomorrow for messing with his stuff.” Oleyg chuckled, finishing up the last few drops of wine in his cup.

Zora turned to face me with her sharp judging eyes.

“I am not going to say I told you so, but I told you so. You should’ve never messed with a Creator to begin with.” Her harsh words felt like knives slicing my skin.

“She was fucking engaged, Zora. She was going to marry him,” I threw back at her.

“She didn’t know. But you knew all along. The blame is on you.”

“This isn’t helpful, Zora,” Orest softly noted, giving her a look.

“You are lucky Finn has a heart of gold and didn’t kill Petunia on the spot,” Cass added, peeking back in from outside. “Heavens know, I probably would have.” She glared at Daibog, who returned a loving stare. “What were you thinking, gallivanting across the camp with her?”

“She came up for the council meeting, and I wasn’t gallivanting her anywhere,” I returned, the wine making my thoughts heavier. Finally.

“It sure looked like gallivanting to me…” Cass shook her head with condemnation before leaving the tent.

“Great, now ten other women are angry at me too?” I filled my cup to the brim again, ignoring Zora's disappointment-filled face.

“You are pathetic when you’re drunk, Gideon. Finn is one of us; of course, we have her back. There are only two sides to the story here. One is right, and one is yours. So, you do the math.”

“Thanks for that, cousin.” I saluted her, scowling. She returned the sour smile but paused on the threshold before adding,

“People that don’t care, don’t get jealous, Gideon. When you sober up, you should think on that,” she said, her voice a bit less harsh. Zora departed, but her words anchored deep within my sinking thoughts.

“She loved him… Whoever her fiancé was. She truly, actually loved him. Perhaps she still does,” I uttered to no one in particular. At first, I tried to let it go, but that bothered me now more than ever. “And you know the worst part?” I proclaimed to the quieted company of my fellow commanders. “I can’t even say with certainty that it wasn’t me who killed him. Probably was.”

“You would’ve remembered,” Ivan murmured.

“Would I, though? I stopped remembering their faces before I turned eighteen. Their names, long before that.” I took another sip. “What’s another burned nameless village to us?” I glanced over the men in the shadows, at their somber faces; men that stood by my side for years now, following me into each massacre, into each battle, without question. Blackening their souls at my command. “I can’t even tell how many we have burned and destroyed anymore.”

It was just another body against my sword, another pile of ash, another soul to scorch. Their faces, their screams; they all twisted with the bloody darkness within me, pulling and tugging me further into the abyss.

“So, what’s the plan then? Wallow in self-pity forever? I’m sure she’ll love that look.” Orest rolled his gray eyes at me, but I didn’t care.

“For her? I have no plan. I have no fucking strategies.” I raised my mug up, toasting to my defeat, and then gulped it all at once.

“Yeah, I don’t believe a word of that,” Bear challenged. “You were scheming before you could even talk. I mean, hell, you staged a full-blown coup at the barracks when you were barely eight, just because you wanted a nicer bed. You always get what you put your mind to.”

“Not this time,” I objected pathetically, the fucking heartache blinding any reason. I couldn’t even spare a thought on what to do, because all I could think of was her.

Finnleah.

Finnleah.

Finnleah.

And the fact that she was not by my side, not in my bed.

“Sleep it off, Gideon.” Ivan patted me on my shoulder, standing up. “I’ll see what I can pry out of my wife for you. And with the amount of wine they stole, I am about to see her horny, chatty ass in my tent soon.” Ivan chuckled, heading for the exit alongside the rest of them, as they all said their encouraging goodbyes. Orest stayed back, watching them all leave.

“How do you do it?” I asked him as he ran his fingers through his burgundy curls.

“Do what? Watch them all be happily married while my heart gets crushed every day by the woman I love?” Orest sadly chuckled, his deep voice mingling with the darkness. “You get used to it.”

“I don’t think I can ever get used to it. It feels like my heart has been dunked in burning acid and then stabbed repeatedly, and then cleaved into a million pieces. And the only way to stop it is to have her here, by my heart, in my arms... It’s pure fucking agony.”

Orest laughed at my words. “Never took you for a hopeless romantic.”

“Never thought I was one either,” I said, each word laced with defeat as I rubbed my face with my hands. “What am I going to do, Orest?” The weary desperation suffocating me.

“You are asking the wrong person.” He scoffed. “Remember? They are the ones happily married; I am the castaway. Trust me, if I knew what to do, do you think I’d be spending my time with your sorry, drunken ass, or getting laid by my smoking hot wife?” He let out a long, dramatic sigh. “I care for you Gideon, but not that much.”

I flipped him off and he returned the gesture with both hands, managing to put a bleak smile on my face.