Chapter 179: Of Picnics, Pretenses, and a King Who Refuses to Work
Chapter 179: Of Picnics, Pretenses, and a King Who Refuses to Work
Elyn’s POV
I stared at Zorathys for a long moment.
Not because I was surprised.
But because I was genuinely trying to figure out if he thought I was an idiot.
"You’re not serious," I said finally.
He leaned back against the edge of the table, completely relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of wine held loosely in his fingers. The faint glow of the light reflected in the glass.
Honestly, he looked so handsome just swirling the wine in the glass, and if I was someone who always succumbed to temptation, then perhaps I would have given in to it.
I gestured at him. "You didn’t come here to help—and especially not to help me. If you actually did, you wouldn’t be standing there sipping wine while the rest of us are barely holding ourselves upright."
The moment the words left my mouth, the shadows reacted instantly.
They surged upward like offended servants, wrapping around his wrist. The glass vanished mid-motion, swallowed whole by darkness. The wine disappeared with it, as if it had never existed.
Zorathys blinked. He looked down at his empty hand and even flexed it a bit, then cleared his throat.
"Um, Firefly? What wine are you talking about? I’m not drinking anything," he told me. His voice was innocent, like he had no idea what I was talking about—and like I hadn’t just seen him holding and sipping wine from a glass.
I just gave him a look that screamed exactly what I felt at the moment.
Really?
He shifted under it slightly, then sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "Even if I don’t like to work," he said, sounding mildly offended, "I still came here for you. And yet you’re treating me like I’m some kind of nuisance."
I laughed at that. How was it that he was using the same words he had used to refer to Azerion and Aziren on himself right now?
"Zorathys, I hate to break it to you, but right now you are a nuisance," I told him with a smile.
Naviel made a quiet choking sound behind me. Ignivar very deliberately did not look at the King.
"You should let me, Naviel, and Ignivar do the work that you clearly cannot," I continued, crossing my arms. "You are not contributing anything."
Zorathys tilted his head, studying me. "But I’m bored," he told me. "And I came to spend time with you."
"That is not my problem. I have work to do," I told him.
"But I really just want to help you, Firefly," he said.
"And the sky is green," I replied.
I arched a brow. "Let’s say I believe you—how do you plan to help exactly?"
His lips curved faintly. "By being here. My presence itself should be enough help."
"That is not helping," I told him.
"I could watch," he said. "You talk to yourself when you’re thinking, and I daresay it’s interesting and will help cure my boredom."
I stared at him, incredulous.
"And honestly," he added smoothly, "all of this could be postponed."
"No, it can’t."
"Yes, it can," he said easily. "We could just... do it later. When you feel like it."
"That is not how any of this works."
"Responsibility is flexible," he replied. "Especially when you could be doing something better."
I narrowed my eyes. "Such as?"
He smiled.
That slow, infuriating smile that meant he thought he was being clever—and yes, that same smile plastered on his face that always made my heart skip a beat. Fucking traitorous heart.
"A picnic," he said. "With me."
The room went quiet.
Naviel froze completely.
Ignivar’s shoulders stiffened.
I blinked. "A picnic?"
"Yes," he said, nodding. "You seemed to enjoy the last one."
"I had it with children," I told him.
"With nuisances," he corrected. "Who somehow stole your attention."
"They are children," I said flatly.
"They are loud," he countered. "And messy. And you laughed with them."
I stared at him. "That is not a crime."
"No," he said. "But it is unfair."
I frowned. "Unfair to who?"
"To me."
I let out a laugh that showed exactly how I felt about his words.
"So," I said slowly, "let me get this straight. You came in here, watched three people drown in work, contributed absolutely nothing, mocked the importance of the event, and now you’re suggesting that I abandon everything to go on a picnic with you."
He nodded.
Just nodded.
"Yes."
I stared at him for a long moment.
Then I smiled.
"Well," I said, "it’s nice that you’re at least making an attempt."
His eyes flickered with something like satisfaction.
Then my smile dropped instantly.
"But no. The only way I am going on a picnic with you," I continued calmly, "is if you actually help with the work."
Silence followed.
The shadows stilled.
Zorathys stared at me.
I met his gaze without blinking.
For a heartbeat—for a foolish fraction of a second—I thought maybe he might surprise me.
Then he smiled. Slow. Amused.
"I like it when you’re harsh on me, Firefly," he said softly. "But if that was your attempt to get me to work, it won’t succeed."
I sighed.
Deeply.
"Of course it won’t."
"I abhor work," he added casually. "Why would I help you suffer through it when you could simply stop?"
"Because some of us take responsibility seriously."
"How tragic," he murmured.
He straightened, shadows already beginning to coil around him.
"I wish you luck," he said lightly. "With the things you take seriously." He shuddered as he said it.
And then darkness swallowed him whole.
He vanished.
The room felt strangely heavier without him.
I stood there for a moment, arms still crossed, staring at the space where he had been.
Then I turned slowly.
Naviel and Ignivar were staring at me like I had just challenged a natural disaster—and lived. I wasn’t sure that was what they actually thought but it sure felt like it.