Page 31 of Gilded Crown

“I had to. It told me things-it wanted to become me and make me into it. It wants hosts to pass down too, like a fever. When one host dies, it’ll go to another. That’s how it lives because it’s not really living. It can’t possess, so it leeches and warps.” The red patch on his once-pristine clothing kept growing. “It wanted the key to be safe because that’s how…”

“What do you mean? You gave him the Golden Touch because it told you to?”

“No, Jari-” Eurig gripped Jari’s arm and tugged him closer. “You don’t understand-they all have the Golden Touch. The key unlocks your mind, gives that ability, and makes an open way to the children so they’ll inherit it without touching the key. It’ll take whoever’s the heir and bears the key next, and after that, it’ll keep going when they have kids. It told me to marry and have children. It was already in me when I married my wife, and she bore my sons. It’s in them, but it’s not in control. I think-the key might be the worst item. You can’t recover from it. The others-you can.”

They were all cursed. It wasn’t just touching the items. They’d all been screwed from the moment they were conceived, and Aurelius was bearing the worst of it since he’d been given the key. The other sons weren’t even aware that they could gild items.

They thought Aurelius was the only one who could do it because he had the key in his eye socket before cutting it out. Eurig hadn’t quite told them the entire truth even with the thing in his head telling him secrets.

Eurig’s voice grew stronger as his pure blue eyes burned into Jari’s. “The crown turns people-makes you their ultimate ruler, but they don’t last. They always die. It told me the hand lets you gild from afar. King David was scared of me, and-”

He suddenly coughed, and blood flecked his chest as he sagged back.

“How do we stop it?” demanded Jari. “How do I save Aurelius?”

“You can’t.” Eurig’s voice grew thin. “Not really.”

Bullshit. “Did it tell you what the fourth item is? Where is it?”

“Tell Aurelius I do…love him. I’m sorry…it wouldn’t let me help then. It wants him angered. Ruined. Makes it easier. I tried to fight.”

Jari gripped his slackening hand. “What’s the fourth item? Give Aurelius a fucking chance!”

“I left it.” Eurig’s eyelids fluttered as he weakly swiped at the front of his sodden coat. “In the guard…” More crimson liquid leaked from his mouth.

“In the guard? Who? What guard?”

Eurig stared at the ceiling. “Tell him to be a lion. A lion-must…protect. What’s best…”

“Where’s the fourth item?” Jari practically screamed.

“...for the pack.” Eurig’s body went completely slack, and his eyes grew blank. A last drop of blood trailed down his chin.

“What guard? Who?!”

Jari fumbled at his neck, desperately trying to find a pulse, but there was none. It was too late, and his heart pounded as he imagined the other sons finding that they could gild on their own. They could kill with that ability, and they were all old enough. Aurelius had done it at seventeen. Since he had held the key for so long, they must not have ever tried and assumed they’d never be able to. Any urges must have seemed simple to them in the way that a person might desire and crave a particular food.

It,which had to be Mammon, could live through them in a way. It would pass like a fever, never truly living on its own or completely dying. It had its hooks in Aurelius more than the others, so it would someday tell him to have kids so it could keep spreading through the generations.

It would eventually kill its host just like a fever or any sickness that couldn’t be fought off. Mammon had leeched from the King’s mind and become a part of him. It didn’t care about its next hosts, and if they grew hard, bitter, and angry, that probably made it easier to take over, and they’d do terrible things, like gouging out their child’s eye.

He remembered the occasional times when Eurig showed a faint, barely-there sliver of affection, although it hadn’t seemed like it. He’d apologized to Aurelius for striking him, and his occasional claps, the kind a Father might give his son when he’s done well at something, had been an attempt. Even putting food on his son’s plate had been a way except his twisted mind couldn’t do anything right in that regard.

It had always been too much and too wrong, and Mammon, who surely didn’t doloveor anything unselfish, had always made the touches cruel and unwanted, especially for someone who didn’t accept touch. And now, Jari was guilty of killing Aurelius’s Father.

But he’d also freed him, and he had to get Aurelius out of here. He wasn’t sure if Aurelius would be furious at him for killing his Father even though he hadn’t had much choice, and Eurig would have needed to die soon.

He used a corner of the bedding to wipe the gore from his sword before he sheathed it. His hands shook as he yanked out the box and opened it. The crown was snug and safe inside. It couldn’t do anything on its own either. Jari quickly closed the box because he sure as well wasn’t touching that thing, and he’d be a fool to walk the halls with that in his hands.

He checked his clothes. Thankfully, they were free of blood, and his hands were clean, so he didn’t look like he’d recently killed someone. With the hatbox tucked under his arm, he exited the rooms. Precious little time remained because someone would notice the King was missing, and they’d check. A servant might go in and see the corpse.

Everyone would soon know, and it’d be clear from the scene that Eurig hadn’t run himself through. Aurelius couldn’t use the crown on everyone to make them forget or keep them away, especially if being under its control caused death.

The hallways were empty. He still had to make an effort to not run while looking guilty as fuck and cuddling the hatbox to his side like it contained his firstborn son. In Aurelius’s rooms, he dithered about where to put it. Under the bed was stupid, but he couldn’t open Aurelius’s lockboxes, and he only needed to conceal it for a few minutes. He shoved it under the Crown Prince’s bed and hurried back to the sitting room.

With a calm face like he hadn't had his sword driven through the King less than fifteen minutes ago, he entered. It seemed most of the courtiers were still in there, and a few glanced at him. He almost expected the entire room to erupt with screams, accusations, and lots of fingers pointed at him, but nobody paid him any real attention.

Many were watching as Mr. Hugo did a rapid pencil sketch of a lady who was posing by the windows with a hip cocked out. Another lady counted, and a few oohed at how fast the artist was capturing her likeness and shading everything.

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