“You seem awfully concerned about the state of my eternal soul.”
“No. Just your…your peace, I suppose. I feel a great amount of peace in knowing that there is something bigger than me out there.”
“If that’s the case, why hasn’t He fixed anything?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
“You can’t convince me that I was meant to go through all of that.”
They had paused in the entry, and he began to walk again, eager to get out of the conversation.
“How did you escape?”
“Why do you care?”
“If I’m going to help you, I would like to know you.”
“You seem to be forgetting, you are my captive.”
“No. You seem to be forgetting that we have a deal. And I don’t want to be treated like a captive. But a partner.” She stopped walking, and was looking at him with a mutinous expression.
He sighed heavily. “I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything about my life in the palace as a child. I don’t remember how I escaped. I barely remember who I was. For years. I knew, but it meant nothing to me. It was like I was in a fog. It wasn’t until I was fifteen or so that I decided I needed to make my way back here. That I needed to do something to fix what was broken. And that was when I began to make an army. As quietly as possible. Without tipping off the broader world that I was still alive.”
“How did you do that?”
“Very carefully. Now, come to your room.”
This time, she obeyed without pushing back. They walked up the spiral staircase, and into the more modern part of the palace. The hallway was well lit, with richly colored wallpaper that caught the light and didn’t feel quite so oppressive. He preferred the darkness, personally.
The room that had been prepared for her was sumptuously outfitted. There was a canopy bed, a plush chaise, a bistro table and chairs so that she could take her breakfast in the morning. The bathroom had a glorious tub, and a large shower. His own room was completely Spartan. He didn’t wish to get soft.
He still slept on a bedroll on the floor most nights.
It was hunger and a need for things to change that had gotten him here.
He never wanted to lose that hunger.
He was glad, too, that the seaside home his family had been killed in had been burned after the coup. It was why his own survival had escaped notice for so long.
It also meant he could never go back there.
Those memories would never find a foothold.
Her expression was dreamy, soft as she looked around the room. He imagined that she had been without such luxuries at the convent.
As if she had read his thoughts, she turned to him. “I was very happy at the convent. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss having my own room.”
“You shared a room?”
“Yes. With Sister Mary Celeste. Who was lovely, but did snore. And also the bed was a bit…sparse.”
“Well, enjoy this. Because when you’re off on your own replete with choices, how will you be paying for your life?”
It was perhaps a bit unkind to pose that question to her.
“I don’t know. But I suppose I’ll figure it out. I’ll figure out what it is I want to do. Or maybe I will go back to the convent.”
A woman of her beauty devoting herself to the church was a crime that his body rebelled against. He was intent on keeping his hands off of her. He had her for a limited time, and there was work to be done. There was no time for indulging in anything.
