The Blood Burns in My Veins by Megan Derr

 

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

"And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury."

― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

 

 

Naoki was in the main garden of the house, idly practicing his magia while mostly thinking about Dante and their alleyway interlude, when footsteps came rushing up behind. Half expecting a panicked servant desperately seeking help with his mother or Mineko, he rose and turned—and drew up short to see Haru, face streaked with tears, hair a mess. "Haru-chan! What's wrong?"

She didn't reply, just threw herself into his arms, held on tightly, and burst into tears.

He let her cry for a few minutes and then gently drew her up. "Hey, now, sister dear. Whatever is the matter?"

"It's all my fault," Haru said. "She's hurt, maybe dead, and it's all my fault."

"You are going to have to start at the beginning, because you're not making any sense. Come on." He took her hand and headed for his room, where he pulled out a bottle of his replenished secret stash of saké. Pouring her a cup, he set the bottle aside and said, "Now then, Haru, start at the beginning. Tell me everything."

She drank the saké in one go and refilled the cup herself, thankfully sipping it. Not that he would have judged or commented; that would have been his stepmother levels of hypocrisy.

He sat quietly, enjoying the scent of seawater and flowers, waiting for Haru to be ready.

After a few more minutes, and a third cup of saké had been poured, she finally said, "You know I met someone at your ball."

"Yes, some lovely mystery girl who has been whisking you away as often as possible. Is she some older woman and there is trouble with a spouse? Something like that?"

Haru laughed, nearly crying again. "I wish it were so simple. No, I've been having an affair—am in love with, I don't care what anyone says about my age—Kumiko-duchessa."

Stones dropped into Naoki's stomach. "Please tell me you're joking."

"I'm not," Haru said, tears slipping free once more. "She's sweet and lovely and so kind, and her father, her father—"

"Her father is a cretin," Naoki said flatly. "You don't need to explain Hardegin to me. I'm guessing he found out?"

"Yes," Haru said, wiping tears away with the heel of her hand. "Oh, Naoki, I think he's beaten her to death, or nearly. Her handmaiden Reina has been helping her sneak out, and when he found out, Hardegin-principe threw her off the balcony. She barely made it to me to warn me, had a broken arm and everything."

Mother Oceana. Naoki wanted to find Hardegin and kill the bastardo himself. Focus. He needed to focus, now more than ever. "Where is she now?"

Haru downed what remained of her third glass of saké. "I went to Dante-don. He… he gave me a place we could safely meet. There is a lot to tell, Naoki. I am sorry."

"Don't be sorry, I never want you to be sorry for daring to live what life you could while Honored Stepmother's foot was on your neck. How did Dante get mixed up in this?"

"He's the reason Kumiko and I met," Haru said. "That night at your ball."

Slowly, between tears and saké, she spelled out the whole tale, from the notes at the ball to going to Dante's home to see him, right up to taking Reina to the old Nakajima stable before sending a message to Dante. "He said he would save her, that this is all his fault and he would fix it. I don't really understand, but Dante has always been so kind to me, to us, and he seems to have a way about him, you know? If anyone can fix this, it's him."

"Yes," Naoki said softly, eyes dropping to the table as memories of all his moments with Dante tumbled through his mind. "He does have a way about him." A sharp gasp had him jerking his head up. He frowned at the way Haru was gawking at him. "What?"

"Are you in love with Dante? I knew you two were having an affair, but…"

"I have known him a matter of days," Naoki said, rolling his eyes. "No, I am not in love with him. That's not how love works—usually, don't yell at me about your love for Kumiko. Come on, we should go to the stable and see what has happened, see how Reina is doing. Pack some clothes, old things Honored Stepmother won't miss, because Reina will need them."

Haru nodded and stood up, clearly relieved to have something to do, some way to contribute. Once she'd gone, Naoki discarded his house clothes for fresh tunic and hose, face burning with the memory of why he couldn't wear the clothes he'd started his day in. Burning hotter as he remembered Dante's words about fucking him for all to see. It should not have been so arousing, the idea of being watched that way. Surely something must be wrong with him, to find that appealing, to want a private matter put on display.

But the idea was there now, teasing and tormenting from the back of his mind whenever he didn't keep himself distracted.

If only the current distraction was not so serious a matter. Hopefully all would be well, though he could not imagine a happy ending to a problem sprung from his little sister fucking Hardegin-principe's daughter.

As Haru had said, though, if anyone could fix this, it was Dante. Naoki was deadly curious about his role in all this, starting with those notes.

I am a man full of secrets and lies, and you would not like the truth they mask.

Was this related to those secrets and lies? What in the world did the Ishikawas matter to a newly minted conte from the continent? His thoughts spun and spun, prickling at the edges like there was something there just aching to be noticed…

He jumped as his door slid open and stared blankly at Haru for a moment.

"Something wrong?"

"No, gomen. My thoughts were swept up in the tide," Naoki said. "Are you ready?"

Haru nodded. "Yes, and I even went to deal with Mother first, so we won't have trouble coming or going."

Naoki's brows shot up. "What do you mean you dealt with her?"

"I have a vial of her sleeping draught. I filled it slowly over weeks, months, taking a bit from her bottle at a time, such small amounts she'd never notice. I just dumped that in her drink, which has so much alcohol in it she'll never notice the difference. She'll be asleep any time now, if she's not already."

"I never knew you had it in you."

"I didn't," Haru said. "Not until I met Kumiko, and you and I talked about running away, and I realized if I did not do something…"

"You would turn out like me, or worse, the rest of our family. I understand. I just hope you would have told me goodbye."

"Of course. I wanted you to come with us."

Naoki smiled briefly but didn't reply, simply grabbed a satchel from one of his trunks and quickly stuffed some clothes and other essentials into it, then slung it over his shoulder. "Come on, let's go while we can."

Thankfully getting out of the house proved easy enough for once; Haru's little maneuver with the tonic must have worked, because Izumi was no longer in the front room where she would be able to see everyone who came and went.

At the end of the street, he hired a couple of horses, preferring to avoid using the horses his family kept at a different stable nearby.

The rain was still pounding down relentlessly, but thankfully rain was the worst that ever happened—well, and some minor flooding on occasion, but that wasn't likely to be a problem this time around. There was also the bonus of the rain driving nearly everyone inside, leaving the roads and bridge easy to traverse.

Once they were across the bridge, Haru took over, leading the way to the stable. Naoki only vaguely remembered it from his wandering days, and had noted it at all because the Nakajima family was close with the Ferro, and Ferro Carac and the Nakajima boy had been, as they said on the continent, thick as thieves.

After Arata had died, he'd avoided everything to do with the Ferro family as much as possible. For years after he'd hated them, the way they'd just heartlessly killed his baby brother. After that night, he'd felt fifty rather than twenty. Now that he was thirty-six, most days he felt a hundred.

They reached the stable right as the rain managed to somehow get worse, coming down so hard it stung where it hit his skin. He had to dismount to open the gates for the horses, getting mud all over his clothes and boots in the process, but thankfully the gate cooperated, and within minutes they had the horses stabled and comfortable.

Haru bolted, and Naoki let her, content to follow at a pace that wouldn't get him killed if he were to slip.

He arrived to find Haru sobbing in Dante's arms. His heart dropped. "Bad news?"

Dante's head jerked up, eyes widening briefly as he stared at Naoki before seeming to fill with shadows, like something weighed heavily on him. "No, relief. I managed to get Kumiko out of the palace. She's in the back resting with Reina; they're asleep right now."

"How in Oceana's name did you manage that?"

"I'll explain later," Dante said. "Come, cara, let's take you back to your lady love, hmm? She might be asleep, but she'll feel your presence all the same and sleep the better for it." He motioned, and Brom stepped forward to show her the way, looping a comforting arm around her shoulders and speaking quietly.

Dante turned his attention back to Naoki. "It's good to see you, tesoro mio, even though you shortly will not feel the same way."

"Am I to learn all your secrets and lies then?" Naoki asked. Did he want to? Dante was the finest thing to ever happen to him, slashed face and all, and he wasn't sure his heart could take another battering.

"Given that I have just kidnapped Kumiko-duchessa and am going to frame her father for her murder, yes, I feel it is time all my dirty secrets come out. I cannot finish what I came to Verona to do, and this, and… I will not leave children to continue suffering, not when it's my fault they are suffering at all. I will never allow what happened to me to happen to other innocents. But come, we should talk somewhere else, so that we don't bother them."

That bad? Naoki's stomach churned, and he suddenly wished he'd had some saké after all. Probably for the best he hadn't, really, but he wouldn't mind the dulling effects right then.

He followed Dante back out into the rain and across to the stable. Movement caught the corner of his eye, but when he turned toward it, all he saw was rain and some scraggly plants that were probably delighted by all the water. Maybe there'd been a cat or something.

Hurrying his step, he caught up to Dante right as he opened the door and hastened in behind him. As the door closed behind them, though, Naoki wished they were back out in the rain, back in the house, and that he wasn't about to lose the best thing to ever happen to him.

He went and sat on a bale of hay that had been brought down to feed the horses and balled his hands into fists in his lap. "So tell me the truth, Dante. What are you really doing here?"

Dante sat next to him, careful to put as much space as possible between them. "I wasn't born Amore Dante," he replied quietly. "I was born—"

"Ferro Carac," said a voice from behind them, and only as he jerked to his feet and turned did Naoki register the voice.

Mineko.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Mineko ignored him, attention entirely on Dante. "Something about you has bothered me from the start. Not to mention right as you come into our lives, all these strange things start happening. Ferro-donna committing suicide, Ferro-don going missing, the pirates they did business with vanishing too. Giudice's debts settled, he's suddenly flush in cash, but doesn't seem very happy about it… the guardie are accused of murder and corruption… so many dramas unfolding at the same time, the same time as a mysterious, wealthy conte shows up, claiming he is new to Verona and yet seems to move so easily about, as though he knows the city as well as a native. A man with honey gold hair, a well-made sword, and a scar in the middle of his hand where my little brother stabbed you before you killed him!"

Naoki was going to throw up. It was true. It was fucking true. How could he have missed it? Dante—Carac—even looked like Ferro-donni, his mother's hair and his father's build, features that were a mix of both.

Ferro Carac wasn't dead. Naoki had been fucking his brother's murderer. Holy Oceana, he was going to be sick. Naoki wrapped his arms around himself and focused on his breathing.

"I didn't kill Arata!" Dante bellowed. "I said it back then, and I'll say it now: I loved him. He loved me. We'd met that night to run away together. But you know that don't you," he added, voice so cold Naoki shivered. "Because you were fully aware of your mother's plan to have him murdered so nobody would realize he wasn't your father's son!"

Mineko snarled and lunged, drawing her sword as she did so, and Dante only drew his own just in time. Shoving her back, he drew his mano sinistra as well. "Stop it, just stop it! The whole mess is over. I'm giving up my revenge, so just stop. No one in your family has been hurt yet, and they're not going to be, because I quit."

"Shut the fuck up, you worthless piece of shit Ferro," Mineko replied, and came at him again, all hate and blinding rage.

"Mineko, stop!" Naoki shouted, but it was to no avail. She was intent on murder, and nothing could stop Mineko once her rage was ignited.

It was a brutal, awful fight to watch—and dodge, as the confines of the stable did not help matters. Desperate for a way to stop it, or at least lessen the damage, Naoki wormed his way slowly to the stable doors and threw them open.

Dante's head jerked at the sudden increase of noise, and for a single moment their eyes locked, and he had never seen Dante look so tormented, so anguished. Naoki didn't know what to think anymore. He looked away, and a moment later barely dodged in time to avoid being hit by Mineko's wildly swinging blade as Dante got them out of the stable and into the yard, into the pounding rain.

The fight only got nastier from there, because while Mineko was intent on killing, it was clear Dante was fighting a purely defensive position. He was doing his best to stay alive and not kill Mineko. Which made no sense at all. If he really was Carac, and he was telling the truth about not killing Arata… then he probably wanted all the Ferro and Ishikawa dead. Here was his chance to kill one of the worst of the lot. Yet he was trying not to do that very thing.

Naoki's head couldn't take all the clashing information. Neither could his heart.

The rain poured down, and thunder rumbled, the first time he'd heard thunder in Verona for years. The one and only other time he'd heard it, the storm had been the leftover of a hurricane that had ravaged the coast and other islands. Only Verona had survived unscathed.

Now, though, thunder was crashing, and flicks of lightning occasionally lit the yard so brightly it seemed like midday rather than early evening.

Mineko got another slice in, forcing Dante to drop his mano sinistra, putting him at further disadvantage.

No, no no no. Whatever was happening, whatever was going to happen next, he didn't want Dante dead.

Heart thundering in his ears, so loud even the actual thunder couldn't drown it out, Naoki drew his own sword and rushed into the fray. He caught the edge of Mineko's blade along his arm as he dove in front of Dante, then brought up his mano sinistra and prepared to face the one person he had never been able to best in a duel.

"Get out of the way, Naoki. Now is not the time to stop being a useless drunk."

"Stand down, Mineko. Can't you see he doesn't want to kill you? He said he's done. Listen to him."

"I'd sooner swim with sharks," Mineko snarled. "If you won't move, I'll make you move."

"Tesoro, stand down. This is not your fight, and I don't deserve your protection."

"You don't deserve to die, either!" Naoki said. "Do it, then, Mineko. Make me move."

She smiled, cold and cruel, and gave him a mocking salute. "In guardia."

Naoki surged forward, not bothering to give the appropriate reply, but sadly it didn't catch her off guard nearly as much as he'd hoped.

He parried and thrust and guarded to the best of his abilities, but cut after cut, one minor stab after another, he steadily began to lose. He was simply no match for her viciousness, the way she didn't care what damage she did. Try as he might, he could not bring himself to that level. He didn't want to fight to the death. He just wanted the violence and the dying to stop.

Mineko stopped briefly, chest heaving. "You're a coward, Naoki. Stop trying to be a hero."

"Maybe I just want to go back to my drinking," Naoki snarled, and resumed the attack. Mineko thrust, and Naoki parried it with his mano sinistra, sliding her blade away and thrusting forward with his own.

Mineko made to dodge, but her boot slipped in the mud, sending her twisting toward the thrust—and right into it, impaling herself on his rapier.

"Mineko!" Naoki let go of his blades, and the weight of the rapier pulled at the wound. Mineko gave a mean, broken laugh, grasped the blade by its edge, and yanked it out, worsening the wounds in the process.

"Don't!" Naoki cried, rushing up to her, only to be shoved back, sent toppling into the mud and water. He sat up just as Mineko collapsed to her knees, clinging to her chest, blood and spittle already on her lips as she drowned in her own blood. It spilled out from her chest and back, turning the water around them red and pink. "Mineko—"

"Fuck you." She wheezed, choked, and finally collapsed face down in the muddy stable yard. One last shudder, like a last desperate attempt to move, and then she went still.

"No! No! No!" Naoki said, mind reeling. "I wasn't trying to kill her, I just wanted her to stop! Oceana damn her!"

His arm was grabbed, he was pulled to his feet, and he went numbly as he was dragged into the house and down the hall to what proved to be an empty bedroom.

"It wasn't your fault, tesoro mio."

Naoki laughed, then started crying, and sank to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. "The worst part is that I'm not sorry she's dead. I hated Mineko. I fucking hated her. I'm just mad she's made everything more difficult now. How terrible a person does that make me?" He laughed-cried some more, burying his face in his hands.

Distantly he heard Dante leave, but couldn't stir much energy to care, still too overwhelmed by the fact he'd killed Mineko. His own sister. His evil, horrid sister that frankly nobody but his worthless parents would miss. That didn't make it any easier to live with the knowledge he was a killer.

He looked up as the door slid open again and stared at Dante, who was still a mess, soaked in mud and rain and blood. Mineko had given him no quarter, and a fighter with even just slightly less skill would have been dead.

Dante knelt in front of him with the basin of hot water and rags he held. Naoki just kept staring, unable to make his mind work. "I feel so stupid," he finally blurted. "Looking back, all the clues were there. You look just like your parents. I noticed your hand once, the scar, and something nagged me, but I preferred to be distracted by you. The way you know Verona so well, just like…" Just like Mineko had said. "Is it true? About Arata? Everything you—you—"

Something broke, and Naoki burst into tears. His long dead brother. His dead sister, killed by his own hand. The misery of the marriage he'd been forced into, his worry over Haru. How much he'd always hated his own fucking life. The way the man he was falling in love with wasn't just a liar, but a fucking Ferro thought long dead. Who hadn't really murdered his little brother at all.

It was too much. It was just too fucking much.

"Let's get you clean and warm, tesoro mio," Dante said quietly.

Naoki nodded, unable to speak, and went along meekly as Dante got him stripped, cleaned, and in fresh clothes. He then gently braided Naoki's hair before getting him into the large, soft bed that smelled of Dante, and despite the tumult of his mind, Naoki was asleep within moments.

 

*~*~*

 

He woke to the gentle pitter patter of soft rain, and a quiet house that looked and smelled nothing like the one he lived in.

As he sat up, everything came crashing back, and he closed his eyes before tears got the better of him again. Instead, he took several slow, deep breaths, bringing himself under control one breath at a time. When he was as calm and collected as he was going to get, he pushed away the blankets and stood. Righting his robe and doing up the belt that had come loose at some point, he left what must be Dante's room and ventured onward.

He didn't go far, though, immediately distracted by the room a short distance down the hall, where Kumiko and Haru lay twined together in sleep. Poor Kumiko looked like she'd barely survived a nightmare. Nearby, Reina didn't look much better, but all three women were resting peacefully, and that was something.

If nothing else good came out of this, he would see Haru and Kumiko happy somewhere. Reina, too, whether she chose to stay in Verona or come with them. He would be something other than a useless big brother for once in his life. He couldn't do that, however, until he'd finally talked to Dante.

He pressed on, following the sound of voices that carried quietly down the hall, until he came to the front room, where Forthwind and another man, who must be Brom, were sitting at a table sharing a pot of tea and finger foods that made Naoki's stomach grumble. First thing first though. "Where is he?"

"The office," Brom said, pointing to a door on the far side of the room. "I'll start making dinner so it's ready by the time you two are done talking. If you want to stay, I mean."

"I'm not leaving Haru," Naoki replied and setting his shoulders, crossed the room to the office. He opened the door without bothering to knock—and stopped. He'd expected to see Dante working, or maybe even resting himself, but instead he sat by the doors he'd pushed open to access the patio and sat looking out over a dilapidated garden that must have once been beautiful. He was bare chested, the top of his yukata bunched around his hips, and he had bandages everywhere from where Mineko had seemed determined to kill him by way of one thrust or a thousand cuts, whichever came first.

Naoki shuddered and tried to stop thinking about Mineko. He licked his lips and asked, "Are you all right?"

Dante froze, then relaxed and looked at him. "Me? Oh, the wounds. Yes, I'm quite fine. I've endured far worse than this. How are you feeling, tesoro—" He broke off and winced. "Gomen, I probably should not call you that anymore."

Naoki frowned but didn't say anything, only went to sit with him on the patio, folding his pink and purple peony robe under and around him. "You really are—were—Ferro Carac?"

"Yes, I was. I changed my name, my everything, after I escaped prison."

"Tell me everything," Naoki said. "All of it. From that night when my brother died all the way up until now. I need to understand."

"Not so much to understand. I was wrongfully blamed. Betrayed. I sat in prison for ten years stewing on that, learning more and more about what really happened. It was my companion, the man in the cell next to mine, who pieced it all together, the whole sordid affair and how I wasn't supposed to survive at all. I should have died in that alleyway with Arata.

"Instead I survived, was buried in the Isola del tasso, where I spent all my time plotting my revenge. But as you say, all of it, from the beginning. Arata and I fell in love, had been in love that whole summer. We knew our families would never tolerate it, not when there were loftier marriages being arranged, children we'd be expected to have, the bad blood… so we decided our only chance was to run away. We planned it carefully. Left in the dead of night. I stopped at that old Neko Tavern to get some dumplings for the road… and minutes later a bandit attacked us. He didn't care about the money. He just wanted us dead." Dante lifted his left hand and flexed it, baring completely the terrible scar that went right through the middle.

Only then did Naoki realize that in all their time together, this was the first time he'd gotten a full, good look at the hand. His one other real glimpse had been only that: a glimpse, a taunting hint he should have taken instead of ignoring.

Dante dropped his hand and looked out over the garden as he continued his tale, from being dragged off to the ship where he was harassed by guards amused to have a Ferro of all people under their care. The vastly more abusive guards at the prison, the ones who tormented for sport, the ones who'd only bring extra food and medicine for Faria in exchange for sexual favors from Dante. The cold, the starving, the grueling work, the way he'd always been in one sort of pain or another. Faria's death, Dante's escape.

Finding the legendary treasure of the Lost Empress. Locating Forthwind. Building his new identity up, securing his title… arriving in Verona and setting his plans in motion by way of arranging for Naoki to be robbed on the way home so Dante could rescue him. The ball, the pirates, and so many other things, large and small.

By the time he finished, Naoki could not speak, too busy wiping tears from his eyes at the horrific story laid out for him.

"You, Haru, Kumiko… none of you were supposed to be hurt. None of you were guilty of anything. I used the three of you to further my revenge, but I never intended for Kumiko and Reina to come to harm, for them and Haru to go through so much tumult and pain."

Naoki swallowed, and finally asked the question burning in his throat. In his heart. "What about me? Us?"

Dante laughed sourly. "I thought I had learned my lesson fifteen years ago, to never get mixed up with an Ishikawa, let alone fall for one. I seem to have a weakness that I cannot overcome. I never for a moment thought I would find myself enthralled with you. So far as my research went, my plans, you were the family drunk, apathetic and easily used to my own ends. I was very, very wrong about you. I realized that from the moment we dueled.

"I tried to stay away, tried not to be stupid and reprehensible… but resisting you is like resisting a rip current: impossible. You have really been quite impossible from the moment I really saw you, Ishikawa Naoki, and I don't know what to do with that. I would never be so crass as to ask forgiveness, but my feelings for you have always been sincere. They cracked my resolve for revenge a long time ago; I simply would not listen to myself. I should have. Maybe this whole horrible mess would not have happened." He sighed and looked away again, staring at things only he could see.

What was Naoki supposed to do? The lies, the deceit… but he could only blame Dante so far for that. He'd said very clearly that he had secrets and lies to his name, that Naoki would hate the truth. Naoki had said he didn't care. He didn't regret that decision, no matter how painful his present was.

He also couldn't deny that in Dante's place… Well, he didn't have Dante's boldness or his crafty wit. But would he have been consumed with bitterness and a need for vengeance? Would he have spent fifteen years stewing and brooding? Very likely. He simply wouldn't have been brazen enough to go through with it. If he'd done anything at all, he would have returned as himself and made everyone miserable with merely his presence. He might have lost his temper one day and killed them out right.

The honest answer was that he didn't know what he would do in Dante's position, and he hoped he never had to find out, because a person of less strength would have broken entirely, actually died in that prison, and no one would ever have known the truth.

There was also the fact that given a choice between Mineko and Dante, he had chosen Dante. Even now he wasn't sorry Mineko was dead, not really. The whole affair was traumatic, and he would have nightmares and worse for a long time… but he still remembered that moment in the temple when he'd finally admitted to himself how much he genuinely hated her. That hadn't changed just because he'd killed her. No, in fact, once he'd truly calmed down from everything, he would probably process the relief he felt at no longer having to worry about what she'd do or make him do next.

"What's been done with Mineko?"

"She is waiting to be buried," Dante said, looking anguished for a moment, as though he'd expected, or maybe hoped, that Naoki would say something else. "I did not know if you wanted to say goodbye."

"I suppose I should," Naoki said. "Come on, then, let's get that over and done with."

Dante rose and offered a hand, and gently pulled Naoki to his feet. He didn't bother to pull the sleeves of his yukata back on, simply headed off.

Outside, the rain had eased to a half-hearted drizzle, though even with borrowed raised sandals Naoki wound up a mess again. Dante led him into the stable, where a hole had already been dug, right where hay bales would hide any discrepancies. The Ishikawa heir, buried in a stable where no one would ever find her, not for years and years, if ever. Eventually, it would be like she never existed at all, save in the memories of those she'd most tormented.

Naoki knelt beside her carefully wrapped body and pressed fingertips to her forehead. "I hope you find in death all the misery and pain you visited on the living. Sleep, sister, but do not sleep well."

He stood and stepped back and watched silently as Dante set to work lowering the body into the hole and filling it with the nearby pile of dirt. By the time he was done with burying her, then spreading and smoothing and packing the excess dirt and had restored the bales, it was impossible to tell what had transpired there. All the rain would have taken care of the blood by now.

His sister was gone, little more than dirt now, as easy as that.

Naoki laughed-cried. "I wonder if I'll be so easily buried and forgotten someday. I would deserve it, after all my apathy and inaction over the years. Is a sad drunk really much better than a conniving cretin?"

"You were depressed, tesoro mio, and trapped in a situation where there was no winning. We all cope in our own way. You did not rape and pillage all of Verona. You did not spend nearly two decades of your life plotting revenge that has rather tidily blown up in your face and cost you something precious. I cannot believe for one moment that you would fade quietly into the night when you die. You will be remembered by people who love you and all the people that love spread to."

Naoki sniffled, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. "I still like it when you call me that, you stupid bastardo."

Dante's face filled with a strange mix of bleak acceptance and wary hope. "I would call you that every day if I could, tesoro mio. It's what you have been from the moment you marked my face."

Giving a shaky laugh, Naoki dropped his hand and said, "Let us fix this mess we're in, and then we will figure out our mess, hmm?"

"Sounds like a plan. Come, I need to clean up again, and I'm sure dinner will be ready soon. I am sorry for your loss. I know you did not like your sister—"

"I hated her. I really and truly hated her. I'm not proud to be a killer, but the sad truth is the world is better off with her dead. I don't want to think about it anymore."

"As you wish, tesoro mio. Shall we go inside?" He offered a hand, and Naoki took it as they returned to the house.