Maybe that was just what he needed as well.
A reset. A reminder why he’d gotten in bed with the Imperial family in the first place. In the beginning, it’d been a purely financial decision made out of sheer desperation. He’d held no attachments or feelings toward Silver, had in fact been as terrified of him as everyone else who had the misfortune of coming into contact with him. Somewhere along the way, that had changed, Silver had grown, had learned to control his urges and blend in.
To master hiding his darkness from the world.
And, even knowing that, like a moron, Nuri must have bought into the act. Allowed himself to be tricked, at least to some extent, just like everyone else. If he hadn’t been, he would have known storming into his office and quitting so aggressively would have been seen as a challenge to Silver.
Nuri should have been smarter. Used his contacts to solve his no travel problem first and sent his resignation through email once he’d already made it safely onto Vitality.
Lesson learned.
His feet padded down the hallway, the thin carpet beneath him drawing his attention to the fact his right foot was bandaged. The Del Bandage covered everything right up to mid-shin, slightly obscured by the pant leg of the white and blue striped pajama bottoms he’d been changed into, most likely by Falc.
By the time he made it to the top of the stairs, he was partially out of breath and covered in a fine sheen of sweat brought on by the pain shooting up his leg. Still, it was manageable. A little pain to get away from all of these twisted emotions? Worth it.
Glancing down, however, had his bravery wavering.
The steps were wide but steep. One wrong move and he’d go toppling. Not only would the commotion most definitely wake everyone, it would also hurt like hell. He may even end up with worse injuries than he already had…
He nibbled on his lower lip and glanced back down the hall toward his open bedroom door. He could go back, but that would be admitting defeat and would no doubt leave him open for attack.
And he wasn’t delusional. He knew what type of person Silver was and the most likely reason he’d been brought here. The Emperor hated any type of change he didn’t initiate. It wasn’t Nuri personally he wanted to keep around; it was the perfect secretary that he needed. Even that didn’t come with a guarantee.
For all Nuri knew, Silver was planning on convincing him to come back to work just so he could fire him. It sounded petty, but…well. Sometimes Silver could be.
No. Nuri needed to get out. He needed to stand by what he’d said in the office and stick up for himself for once. If he didn’t and he stuck around and allowed Silver to convince him…
Inhaling, Nuri grabbed onto the railing and eased himself down one step. As expected, it wasn’t easy, and the pain intensified each time he applied renewed pressure to his right ankle, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. Eventually he made it to the landing, closing his eyes to give himself a second to recoup before moving toward the long table set against the wall to the right.
The home communicator screen hung just over the center of the table, coming to life the second Nuri pressed his finger to it. The light blue glow in the otherwise mostly dark foyer had him blinking and glancing away, head turned toward the hallway that branched off behind the staircase.
A shadowy form lingered there, tall and foreboding and still as a statue. For a moment, Nuri was certain it was merely his eyes playing tricks on him, but then the figure shifted.
Nuri let out a gasp and retreated, forgetting all about his injury in his surprise. The gasp morphed into a cry of pain as he stepped down with more force on his fractured ankle, and he would have crumpled to the ground if not for the shadow figure which shot forward and grabbed onto him.
Strong arms banded around his waist, hoisting him up, and just before he started to panic, a familiar scent accosted him, followed swiftly by the irritated voice of the Emperor.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing, Nuri?” Silver held onto him tightly when he tried to pull away, tipping his head down to glare at him. For the most part, the mansion was dark, most of the lights switched off by Falc before he’d gone to bed. But the glow from the front light outside and the still active communicator screen lit up the Emperor’s face.
He wasn’t just irritated, he was angry.
Nuri would have questioned it if not for the way his heart was pounding loudly in his ears. The close proximity to Silver was affecting him already, almost as if his mind had completely forgotten how pissed off he was at the other man. It was different from his usual reaction, more intense somehow, more vivid and distracting. Something pulled at the center of his chest, a foreign sensation that momentarily had him frowning.
“The last I checked,” Silver drawled darkly, “you hurt your ankle, not your tongue. Answer the question. What are you doing down here in the middle of the night?”
He swallowed the lump in his throat and lifted his chin in the best show of defiance he could muster while still being held by the Emperor. “I’m going home.”
Silver seemed to be considering his next words carefully, but when he spoke they were rather plain. “You’re injured. You need someone to help take care of you while you heal.”
“Falc has enough on his plate already,” Nuri argued.
“Who said anything about Falc?”
“Who else would be taking care of me?” He quirked a brow. “It certainly wouldn’t be you, majesty.”
“Why not?”
“Because you haven’t taken care of anyone a day in your life,” Nuri told him honestly, “least of all me.” The Emperor was used to having his needs met and had always cared very little about helping others to meet theirs.
