Dungeon? This Tree? Why Don't You Join Me for Lunch? (Dungeon Core)
Chapter 42: The King’s Mask

Chapter 42: Chapter 42: The King’s Mask

Now, I know that I shouldn’t be snooping around during such a private moment, but I wanted to see Solas cooking!

Sure, there were more important things:

The zombies, who thought that they were alive now, and would stay that way.

Desmond, who might still be mad at me, I didn’t know. He had not come back. Nate didn’t seem concerned, but I still worried.

And, finally, Mordred and Mortimer, who were working their way through the vampire part of our army. Probably getting all kinds of nasty diseases...

But this was important too!

This was the first time Solas was going to show Doran he cared! The first time he was going to cook for him, or, at least, I thought it was the first time.

Doran was smoking his cigar, as Solas was stirring something in a pot. On another cook fire, I could see that he had a pot with a lid on. Coals over the lid.

I watched Solas make the dough. I knew that he was going all out. But, darn, I wanted some of that food!

Better yet, I wanted to help cook it!

And even better yet, I wanted to tell Solas that we could solve all our problems, if we finally raid the Mammoth’s Graveyard.

Because the food there was something I could steal the schema of!

And once I did that, I was going to share with Pan, of course. Fill in both of our dungeons with produce and solve all our problems.

It was not like I could force the zombies to march on empty bellies. Who were now human, soon to become golems, then zombies again, and explode...

Darn, it was evil, what we were putting these poor souls through. But I had no other choice! We needed an army!

"Turn the pendant on," Nate urged. I hated doing this, but I wanted to see if Solas had a chance.

Because if even he had a chance at love, then I had one as well.

"Ok, here goes," I placed some mana inside, the pendant began to glow.

There it was: the ultimate test of love and devotion.

"And your cigars stink," and Solas was already his usual self. Not caring much about how Doran would feel.

"Yes, I know," Doran continued to smoke. Making sure the smoke flew in Solas’ direction.

"And I know you just want to die, so you wouldn’t have to marry me," Solas continued.

Man, they were an old-married couple!

I heard chewing next to me. Much to my horror, Nate was eating boiled eggs.

"What? I’m hungry," he told me, his mouth full.

"Never mind," I did not want to be like Solas. His fate to remain unloved until the end of time was clear to me.

"Well, it is not like you are going to divorce Bran-Bran anytime soon," Doran said, as he threw his cigar into the fire under the pot Solas was stirring.

I held my breath. Oh, he did not! If even a bit of the ashes had gotten in the pot, the food will be ruined! Solas had been cooking for two hours by this point!

The food must be almost ready!

"Doran," Solas didn’t sound like screaming in fury. Oh, so the food was fine. "I can’t divorce Brandon now."

Huh, this was the first time I heard Solas call Brandon by his name, and not Bran-Bran.

"And why is that?" Doran asked so, as if he was ready to throw his entire packet with unlit cigars into the pot. I could understand him.

He was in love.

"He is keeping me alive," Solas whispered.

For a moment, there were no noises in the clearing. Even Nate had paused in his eating.

Then, Solas sighed.

"And my sister was an organ harvester," Solas continued, resuming his stirring. "And... she had at least 20 children, and they all..."

I heard Solas choking on his tears. As he threw the ladle inside of the pot. I saw as he buried his face in his hands.

"And" Solas continued, as if what he had said up to now was not horrible enough. "I sold Fin to Alexios, Doran. I sold her for peace. Even as the raids into my lands continued. Even as she stopped writing back to me. I... I believed I had done the right thing."

Solas curled into a ball. Doran was by his side in an instant. I wanted to turn the pendant off.

This was a private moment. I was certain that Solas would never have told me the things he just told Doran.

But we, all three of us, Nate, Aron and I, stood frozen as the second-strongest man in the world broke down and cried in the arms of his lover.

Like a little child.

"I doomed my people to a war I can’t win!"

My blood turned to ice in my veins. If even Solas did not believe we could win, then what should I believe?

"You are to blame for everything that happened to you," Doran said, his voice cold. But his arms were still around Solas. The man was just doing his duty.

Or so I thought.

"But we are going to win the war," he continued, with all the coldness someone who would never find real love could feel. "Because you are going to put in the effort!"

"I can’t!" Solas cried.

My fingers jerked.

He was broken. Under the teasing and the threats, the king was a broken man.

"Accept the contract," Doran’s voice was gentler. I saw as he fought to uncurl Solas from the ball he had curled himself into. "We don’t need to marry. I don’t want tittles. I just want to grow old with you."

It was the most romantic thing someone could have ever said. But it was said in the same cold, merciless voice.

Solas was shaking, crying.

I turned off the pendant, gathered my two husbands, for I did not need a priest to consider them anything but, us sharing children and all, and sneaked as far away as I could.

Solas’ cries still followed me.

I looked at the sky and told myself that I survive to live to be 5,001 years old.

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