Surviving A Novel I Don't Remember: A Tutor's Guide To Staying Alive

The silence that followed was terrifying.

The realization of what had happened didn’t just spark anger; it shattered the last of the Duke’s restraint.

Knowing that Julian had died for a moment, and nearly remained dead, was a burden Alaric had been carrying for three days, but hearing that it was deliberate—that his own brother had stood over the pit and watched the life drain out of him—was a betrayal that tasted like ash.

Duke Alaric’s hand, still resting on the door latch, tightened until the wood groaned. He didn’t speak immediately. He just stood there, his shoulders heaving, his breathing coming in ragged, shallow bursts. When he finally raised his head to look at Julian, the state he was in as he lay on the bed, his face was contorted in hard, silent fury.

His eyes were now burning with a lethal, predatory light that rivaled the chilling gaze of the Emperor. This wasn’t just the anger of a Lord; it was the rage of a man who realized the blood he shared with the Emperor had turned toxic.

"He smiled?" The words came out slowly, as if Alaric was tasting poison. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

It was a terrifying vibration that made the air in the room feel heavy, as if a storm were about to break.

Julian nodded weakly, the fever making the movement feel like he was moving through water.

"He looked right at me. He saw the stake, and I was sure he could tell I was poisoned... but nothing. He didn’t say a word. To him, I was just a troublesome prey who had finally fallen into the trap of a hunter."

A deep choked sound—half-sob, and half-growl—erupted from Alaric’s chest.

There was rage boiling in his blood. And it was a rage he could not contain.

He turned and kicked the heavy velvet chair near the fireplace, sending it crashing against the stone with enough force to splinter the wood.

"Bastard!" Alaric hissed, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists hard. "My own brother... You’re saying he just stood there while you bled... and smiled? Are you sure it was a white horse, and that the face you saw was his?

It wasn’t that the Duke was doubting Julian, or that he was trying to cover up for the Emperor. He knew the kind of things his brother was capable of. He had seen it firsthand, the lengths his brother would go to reach his goal.

The reason he asked this was that he didn’t want to make a mistake. The mistake of leaving the real culprit to flee while he made problems with the Emperor. Once he began, there was no stopping it.

Julian knew the implications of this. He knew what would happen once the Duke made an enemy of the Emperor. He knew it was dangerous, but if he didn’t tell the Duke now, his own life would be in danger.

The only one who could protect him from the Emperor was the Duke.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"So, he dared to treat your life like a spectacle?" he growled under his breath, the rage burning in his heart and manifesting in his eyes.

The Duke began to pace the small space of the room, his boots thundering against the floor. He wasn’t just mad; he was possessed by a murderous intent so thick Julian could almost taste the metallic tang of it.

He had always known the Emperor was cold, but this was a different level of cruelty—a betrayal of the very bond they were supposed to share as brothers.

The Duke could sever his ties with the Emperor, dangerously so, all for the sake of Julian.

"He’s gone too far," Alaric spat, his voice dropping to a deadly, quiet promise. "He has no right to make a spectacle out of your life."

The Duke stopped abruptly and loomed over the bed, his shadow swallowing Julian. He reached down, his hand trembling with the effort of holding back the violence screaming in his veins. He gripped Julian’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the muscle with a possessive, desperate force.

"From this moment, Julian, you breathe a word of this to no one. I will take care of it." Alaric’s face was inches from his, his gaze absolute and terrifyingly focused. "This is no longer just about the Emperor’s displeasure with you. My brother has declared war when he dared to take such an action towards a subject of his Empire, a member of the North, and towards my own person. If he wants to play with lives, I will show him exactly what it means to lose everything."

Julian gulped, feeling the weight of the Duke’s words and the hatred that curled around his words. He was going to go so far for him. Was this the power of an 88% affection level? It was terrifying.

"Your Grace," he called, his voice deepening at the edge. "Do not start a rebellion," he whispered.

He was scared of the Emperor’s schemes, but was even more scared of the things the Duke would do in his quest for revenge.

The Duke pulled away, his eyes lingering on Julian’s pale face.

"Even at this point, you worry about me," the Duke said, a lingering light in his eyes. "I will not do anything reckless that will put you in trouble, but I cannot let my brother be either. He needs to pay for your life that was nearly lost."

"He did not push me into the pit. I fell into the pit due to my own recklessness." So, blaming the Emperor entirely for it was uncalled for. "He simply chose not to help a dying man. He is still the Emperor," he said softly. "You can’t attack him recklessly."

"Exactly why I need to make him pay." The Duke huffed. "Before anything else, you are a subject of this Empire. His subject. An Emperor lives and dies for his people. He does not relent in repeating those very words each chance he gets. And yet, when the time came, he left you to rot. I don’t care if he makes an excuse like he had already concluded you wouldn’t be able to make it before help came, or that he assumed you had already breathed your last. I don’t care about any of that. Right now, he has failed you as an Emperor."

Julian’s heart was thudding. This was getting serious. Too serious. If the Duke went to see the Emperor like this, he could outright attack him and be charged with treason.

How could he stop him?

The Duke suddenly placed his hand over Julian’s forehead, feeling the heat rising again. I’ll call the physicians on my way, so just rest for now.

But just as the Duke was about to walk away, Julian reached for his hand, his weak grip catching the flap of his sleeve.

"Don’t... Don’t go," he whispered, his body trembling. "I... I don’t think I can close my eyes. I don’t want to be alone. I see the dark and I... I get scared. So..." He looked into the Duke’s eyes. "Can you stay with me for a while longer? Please... Your Grace?"