“My mother had a vegetable garden,” I said.
The Dragon King looked over at me.
“Too far back?” I asked.
“No, I'm just surprised that you wish to talk to me about your childhood. Go on.”
“Why would that surprise you?”
His forehead wrinkled. “I don't know. I suppose because no one has spoken to me about anything so personal in—”
“Over a century?” I finished for him. “Fuck,” I whispered. “You haven't just cut yourself off from love, you've cut yourself off from everyone, haven't you?”
The Dragon King cocked his head, considering my question. “I spend most of my day surrounded by people. But yes, I do feel cut off. As if I'm flying above them, calling out orders while they scramble about on the ground below.” He looked at me. “I never land, just circle like a fucking predator.”
“You are a fucking predator.” I winked at him.
He snorted a laugh, then shook his head. “There it is again,” he whispered in wonder.
“What?”
“The lightness. I fly, but I feel so heavy. No one has reached for me, Sebastian. They could fly beside me, but they choose to stay on the ground.”
“Can't you land? You know, for those of us without wings.”
Another forehead wrinkle. “No, I don't think I can ever land.” He laid his hand on my knee—my dirty, sweat-soaked pant leg—and said, “But you don't need wings to fly. You've found a way into the sky for me. Thank you for that, Sebastian.”
I couldn't breathe. He was touching me. For a second, I got a glimmer of what I wanted from him, and in that second I realized how fucking insane I was. Talk about reaching too high. Flying beside him? To ever think he could be mine was ridiculous. But maybe I could be his. Just for a little while. Whatever he needed me to be. I would do that for him. Shit, at that moment, staring into his amazing eyes, I knew I would do anything for him. Even fly.
“I didn't know I couldn't,” I finally whispered.
King Shaleros grinned and drew his hand away. “And maybe that's why you succeeded. You didn't know me well enough to stay on the ground.”
I smirked at him. “This whole flying analogy is getting old, don't you think, Your Majesty? I'm starting to confuse myself with it.”
He chuckled. “You . . .” He shook his head. “I confide things to you that I have never told another and you make a joke.”
“Shit,” I muttered. “I'm so sorry. You're right. I just, well, I wanted to see you smile again.”
The Dragon King lifted his brows.
“It's a damn fine smile,” I said.
His lips spread into that smile I craved. Then he said, “Tell me about your mother's garden, Sebastian.”
Staring at him, I had a flash of insight. This was incredible progress, and I didn't want to fuck things up. He was eager to keep going, but only because he was practically starved for intimate conversation. It didn't matter who that conversation came from. I wanted it to matter.
Most of what I knew was centered around plants. But there were a lot of parallels between plants and people. Give them what they need and they thrive. Cut them off from their nourishment, and they wither. Hack at them, and they will bleed. But they also heal stronger. The surest way to bring out the best in a plant is to cut it back. A good trimming will encourage fresh growth. It gets rid of the dead weight that has been sucking the plant's nutrients and giving nothing in return. And King Shaleros had a lot of dead weight.
So I cut our conversation short. I left him reaching, but this time, he was reaching out with the knowledge that someone was reaching back. He would grow stronger. He would thrive. I vowed to myself to make sure of it.
“Another time, Your Majesty,” I said softly. “I've got to get back to work.” Then I grinned at him, grabbed a cookie, and stood up. “Thank you for the apology and the cookies. I feel a lot better.” I strode down the steps and into the garden.
“Sebastian?”
I looked back at the King.
He was holding the jar aloft. “Rub this over your skin. It will protect you from the sun.”
