Worse. It was worse.
“Why do you stay?” he asked, his hand sifting through her hair. “In the Ditch?” The question spurted from his mouth like bad wine. But he had no desire to take it back. “Why not live in a different sector?”
“It’s not like there are many opportunities to get out. Costs are too high to live anywhere else.”
“Is it that bad?”
Before meeting Nes, he’d been to the Ditch only a handful of times.
“It’s bad,” she said, but her expression softened at the words, “but not all bad.”
He wished he could see inside her head. To know which parts she’d recalled to grant her such ease. “I could change that.”
Her head shot up from his shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“I can make it better. Change the bad.”
A star of an idea was forming in his mind. Too far away to see the brilliance of it, but just bright enough to know it could be incredible if he coaxed it forward.
“It would take some time. But as the Prince’s Crown, I would have a say in what happens to the city. I could convince the Prince to help better the Ditch.”
Maybe he’d even put forth the plans himself.
“You’d do that?” Her voice was quiet.
“I would try.”
He pushed himself up so he sat with his back against the wall, his head at the windowsill. The blanket slipped to pool around their waists.
For so long, he hadn’t let himself think of the future. Of the duel that waited around an unknown corner. But it was there. And the day he’d have to fight Kohen for the very crown on the Prince’s head would come. Whatever the outcome, Toran would have power. A power he’d have to find ways to use, ways to benefit the people he served.
“Do you remember your parents?” Nes asked.
The question came out of nowhere, and yet it settled over him like the blanket.
“I remember bits and pieces,” he said. “Like picking flowers with my mother. How the field was full of so many shades of blue, pink, and yellow. I remember wanting to pick them all for her.”
“And your father?”
He shook his head. “Never knew my father. You’re lucky to still have yours in your life.”
“I am,” she agreed. “But it doesn’t always feel that way. He’s here, but I never get to see him.”
“What about your mother?”
“My mother died giving birth to me. I wonder how she would have felt about the woman her daughter has become—whether she’d be proud or horrified.”
He let her words sit in the air. He couldn’t answer her. Not when either option might be a lie. And he didn’t want to lie to her. Not now. Not ever.
Nes sighed and laid her hand over his. “Your mother would be proud of you.”
He didn’t move. “I’m not so sure.”
“I am. You’re a good person, Toran. You care about people, not only those close to you. You care about this city, this country. You just need the opportunity to show how much.” With her other hand, Nes reached up and smoothed back a piece of his hair. “I know I’m just some criminal from the Ditch, but for what it’s worth, I hope you win the Crown Duel. You’d make a great king.”
Her admission turned his mouth dry. He tried to swallow, but there was nothing to wash the sand down.
“You shouldn’t sell yourself short, either,” he said after several seconds. “I saw how you were with Marnie and Genna. You care, too, even if you don’t want to admit it. Caring isn’t a weakness, Nes. In fact, it could be your greatest strength.”
