Jerof by Phoebe Nix

Author:Phoebe Nix [Nix, Phoebe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-01T16:00:00+00:00

Suppressing his pains was not an attempt of masculinity to Jerof. He was merely incapable of processing what had happened. In his eyes, his father was immortal. Jerof always imagined that it would be he who would die first in one of his battles before he saw his father perish.

After the funeral, he was to be crowned King, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. He didn’t believe he could possibly replace someone like his father who had paved the way to establishing galactic peace.

He hid in his room, contemplating what was to be asked of him, thinking of his father who he now had to live up to. It was a heavy burden on his heart, and he could feel the weight of it crushing him.

By the time he could control his emotions and prepare to get dressed, hours had passed, and he was not feeling any better.

The door was left ajar, and Liz walked in as he fixed the white silt around his black robe and secured his scabbard on top.

The funeral was tonight, to be hosted under the three full moons. There was going to be a storm when the people of Url mourned the death of their King. There was plenty left unsaid to Liz, and he didn’t know when he was going to muster the strength to tell her everything she needed to know.

After he’d heard the words of his dying father, the idea of being bonded with Liz began to sound less absurd. The more he thought about how fate had brought them together, the more he was at peace with being with her. Burned onto his retinas was his father’s lifeless body laid across the bed.

He felt Liz’s hands slide on his silt as she embraced him from behind.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ve only known him for a couple of weeks and I’m grieving. I can’t begin to think how you must feel. He was an astonishing man.”

The Prince gulped as he robotically caressed his robe, his fingers landing on Liz’s hands. He paused for a moment, holding his tears back. He didn’t want her to see him getting emotional.

“He is,” he replied after a long silence.

Liz pulled back, pacing toward the bed. She sat, her head tilted down as she stared at the curlicues on the carpet.

“One is only dead when forgotten, and he shall always be remembered,” Jerof said, his voice wavering. He cleared his throat and turned around, eyes fixed on the long mirror on the wall to see what he looked like from behind. He was ready to go.

He turned to Liz, his eyes travelling up and down her figure. He looked the other way as soon as her head rose.

She was dressed in a black kimono with a red silt. She drew circles with her ballerina shoes on the carpet, trying to distract herself from the shock. Jerof could read her eyes; there was plenty that she wanted to say. For one, Jerof was certain that their attraction was mutual.

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