There was a small crowd of the people of Salem at his door, too—how did they get into the royal quarters?—which the guards were trying to contain. But at that moment, King Lucien turned deaf and blind to them. All his focus centered on his cousin's brother who died in the most horrible way six years ago, standing right in front of him. Declan?
Had he finally lost it in his head? Had he finally gone insane?
He must really have gone insane. That was the only explanation for the reason why he'd be seeing his dead cousin right in front of him in the middle of the day.
At one corner of the golden chambers, Vetta's eyes were wide as saucers, staring at Declan standing before the king. She was so shocked the wooden cup fell from her hands and the tea poured out to the floor. She spared it no attention, unable to stop staring at the ghost in the room.
The look of horror at Talia's face before was nothing compared to the one that was there as she stared at the man she was very sure died six years ago. The man she wished had died.
“By the gods..” the maid trailed off, her throat suddenly too dry. Today must be her doom. Clearly, it is written in the stars.
Dargak's smile slipped at the utter blank expression that had replaced the relaxed look on the king's face before. No, the king did not look happy at all. He believes that what he is seeing is unreal.
There was no reading this face at all. It was completely blank. No feeling. No expression. Nothing.
But it wasn’t Dargak's explanations to give, so, he did the only sensible thing required of him. He bowed his head and excused himself from the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Declan could do nothing but stare at his brother that had been nothing but flashes in his memories in the past few years. His cousin, who was ten years his older cousin—his big brother. Heavens, he cannot believe he's seeing his brother again.
But his brother was not looking at him with recognition.
“Brother... It's me,” he said hoarsely, his voice filled with emotions.
That voice...
Even as his brother was a figment of his obviously-gone-crazy mind, King Lucien's throat closed up at hearing the sound of his voice again for the first time in ages. His chest tightened so much it was almost hard to breathe.
He said nothing. His expression didn't change either.
“I'm here. I am truly here, Lucien. I'm here, King Lucien. It is me...” Declan took a step close to his brother that stood frozen like a statue but stopped two feet in front of him because of the terrifying blank look on his always-strong cousin's face. He had no idea what was going through his brother's mind.
Memories assailed Declan.
Memories of his big brother taking whips for him. Giving him his own food to eat while he went hungry. Memories of his big brother assuring him every night that everything would be fine one day.
“I really am here. It's me, brother,” Declan tried again, his voice breaking with emotions as he drank in the sight of his one and only family.
Silence descended.
No voice was heard in the golden chambers. Nothing.
Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, King Lucien pulled his eyes from the ghost in front of him, raised his hands and stared at his fingers.
What kind of torturous dream was this? What kind of torturous dream was this in the middle of the day?
His hands were shaking. His eyes blurred with tears. Then he let out in a pained voice, “Now my mind even conjures you up to the extent that I see you in the light of the day. I am so sorry, Declan.”
A tear dropped from his eyes and splashed into his hands.
.
.
.
The sight broke Declan's heart. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Brother. You did everything you could. You did as you promised. You brought us out of that shithole like you promised.”
“Not until it was too late.” His voice sounded scrapped raw. “Not until all the damages had been done.”
“No, you're wrong. Damages were done, but here we are today. Salem is magnificent again. I was flabbergasted when I entered the kingdom.” Declan closed the distance between them then grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “The kingdom is wealthy, beautiful and prosperous again! In just six years! No, all damages were not done.”
Deep into that hurtful place King Lucien was buried in, a realization began setting in.
Declan was touching him. Really touching him.
“You're touching me,” he rasped in awe.
Declan's eyes were glassy, but he smiled. “That's because I'm alive. I'm not a ghost.”
“But h-how is that even possible? How is this possible? I don't understand...” For the first time, for as long as King Lucien could remember, he sounded dumb to his own ears. He was too confused. He was too hopeful.
Declan sniffled. “A long story. But I'm—”
King Lucien threw his arms around his brother then. For a moment, he dreaded that the fantasy would be over and Declan would disappear in a poof of air from his arms. But that did not happen. No, his brother wrapped his arms around him too, burrowed his head into his neck and his shoulders began shaking—the only indication that he was crying.
“By the gods! Deck!? You're really here, Deck!” King Lucien held him tight, the world zeroing in on him.
His brother is alive! His brother is right in front of him! His brother is alive! Heavens, Declan is alive!
“Big cousin...I've missed you so much.” He sniffled into his neck. “Even without my memories, there w-was this huge hole in my heart whenever I h-have flashes of you. I missed you so much, even when I can't r-remember you.”
His small brother had lost his memories. He's here now. King Lucien clutched him tight, closed his eyes and allowed the euphoric feeling to wash over him. His brother is alive. His brother is here.
“Oh, Deck, this is all too much for me. You're alive, you're here. Heavens are smiling at me in the most unexpected way.” Another tear dropped from King Lucien's eyes. “Declan is alive. What's left of my family—what I thought was ripped away from me in the most horrible way—is right in front of me. Alive. Well.”
“Yes, yes. I'm alive, brother. I'm so sorry that it took me so long to come back here.” Declan cried for them both.