DARK RECKONING: VAN LAVEN CHRONICLES (Book 3) by Tyler Chase

Author:Tyler Chase [Chase, Tyler]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2017-03-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 43 – Julian and Khale

The glass shatters against the view screen, and its liquid contents geyser out, spraying everything nearby.

“Bloody hell!” Julian Grusonious shouts as he wipes beer spray off his face. He turns a hard stare on Khale who’s sitting across the bar from him. “Go home and tear your own place apart. I paid a small fortune for that.”

“Oh , piss off, no harm’s come to it,” Khale Warbrenger snaps at him and gestures at the screen still displaying Empress Vaush and Comron arm in arm, smiling brilliantly and waving to their subjects from the grand balcony of the Lion Palace. “Look at the bloody sods: that prat and his bitch wife. Just look at them,” he says, slurring his words.

Khale had rung Grusonious in search of someone to commiserate with over the impending announcement. His father was of no help. He seemed perfectly content with the turn of events and admonished Khale to move on with his life. Bugger that!

He flicks a hand at the screen. “That should be you up there, Julian. You’re next in line to the throne. So, kill the bleeding slag and take the throne just like she stole it from your uncle.”

Grusonious began to regret allowing Khale to visit and wondered how quickly he could invite him to leave his guesthouse. “It’s not that simple, and you know it,” Grusonious says as he uses a dishtowel to feverishly wipe down the screen.

“Because you’re all a bunch of incompetent tally-whackers who couldn’t blast their way out of a wet paper bag,” he wines like the puerile nob[*13] he is. “Just take a couple of galaxy-class destroyers and blow Nethic off the fucking map. What’s so hard about that? I thought you were supposed to be this great,” he waves his hands, “General’s Elite. Well, I don’t care how many damned medals they gave you, cause I’m here to tell you, you’re not shite, my friend. Not shite.”

Julian’s icy blue eyes flash at Khale. “It’s all right. I get it, the rejection and all, but you knew all along that Ti-Larosian women prefer their men with a little more in that,” his eyes flick downward, “department. Cheer up, old boy. I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who won’t hold your shortcomings against you when they see the size of your bank account.”

Khale’s eyes round with confusion and then anger. “What? What the hell are you on about? That’s not why she chucked me, you slimy git[*14],” he says stupidly and points at the view screen. “It’s that bastard’s fault. And my dad, he doesn’t give a toss about my humiliation, because he’s struck some lucrative deal with Her Royal Bitchiness, the dark cunt!”

Julian throws the dishcloth into the trash bin and props his hands on top of the bar. “If that’s your opinion of her, shouldn’t you be relieved you don’t have to marry her?”

“S’not the point,” he says, and his head cants forward drunkenly. “I can’t live in a world where that cragmite steals the girl from me.

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