74. Son To Father

Sinclair

He walks around his desk, red robe flowing behind him, and he walks past without looking at me. At the last second, he says, "Walk with me, Norman."

Norman. The impulse to rip his skin off his bones pounds through me, but I know it'll get me nowhere. I push off the door, trailing behind him slowly as he walks, hand folded behind his back.

The silence stretches on for some time before he stops before a huge black door, pressing his palm against it.

The door shudders and slides open, revealing a vast orchard. I hesitate at the threshold, but the king continues on, robe dragging across the grass. "If I planned on killing you, you'd be dead already, boy."

"You call me boy one more time, I'll kill you," I promise, following behind him.

The door shuts with a loud boom and he turns to me. "Give it a try. You know you want to."

His eyes taunt me. Try, if you dare, they seem to say. I don't do well with threats or challenges. I lunge for him, my fist connecting with his jaw. The secon