Page 2 of Of Monsters and Mazes

Me: And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?

And yet I went along with it.

Jericho: You look like a go getter. The kind of woman who doesn’t hesitate when she sees something she wants.

Alright, well, not the worst response. This had turned innocent enough that I was willing to give him a few more responses before I gave him a pass. He did have pretty eyes after all, and I was always a sucker for the eyes.

Jericho: The chances that I didn’t meet your standards were less than zero, considering.

Never mind. Here we go.

Me: Considering… what exactly?

Jericho: Considering all princesses dream of attracting the attention of a King.

I raised a brow.

Me: Are you trying to suffocate me with that red flag? Or gag me with it?

Jericho: We can try both and see which one makes you come first.

It’s possible that I full snort laughed at that, and I wasn’t entirely proud of that fact. What was it about quick wit that always sucked me into engaging with the worst men? Sapiosexuality was real, and it was a curse.

Though I wouldn’t be clarifying if the gagging or choking would be more likely to get me off. I definitely wouldn’t admit to having casual interest in both. In a safe and sane way, of course.

But this wasn’t about him guessing my kinks with clever jokes. This was a battle, and I was here to fight. Or date? No, definitely fight.

Me: Do you often associate women gagging with a night in your bed?

Jericho: Of course I do. It would be unreasonable to expect every woman to be able to relax their throat far enough to take that many inches.

A big dick joke, huh. I’d admit he turned that around way too easily, and I wasn’t sure if he was matching me in cleverness or immaturity. Not wanting to play into that hand, however, I ignored his taunt and switched up the game.

Me: So you think you’re a king? And yet I’m just a princess? Doesn’t that seem a touch egotistical when speaking to a total stranger?

Call them on their bullshit and watch them flail. Ah, I was being a cynic again. Maybe he’d impress me a third time. I’d never form a deeper connection with anyone if I wrote people off too quickly, and he had shown promise with his comebacks so far.

Don’t be the stereotype who dismisses people after the first mistake. I reminded myself.

Jericho: Facts aren’t ego, lovely Miss Sela. I have no doubt you have the soul and spirit of a queen, but you’ve allowed yourself to live a life as the pawn instead of the player.

Me: Go on. I’m listening.

I was still staunchly on the offensive, but his answers were interesting enough thus far that I was curious to see what he’d come up with.

Jericho: I’ll gladly indulge you then. It’s simple, really. While you may wear the façade of a Queen, with the skill and heart to rule, your crown is terribly fragile. The slightest misstep, and your whole kingdom will shatter. You’ve spent your whole life terrified of rebellion from subjects who are too small minded to recognize your individual brilliance, because much like the child of someone truly strong, your power must be given to you by another rather than taken with an iron fist. Your spirit is suited to royalty, but your fear holds you back from being a true monarch.

Insightful. Clever. I didn’t hate this explanation so far. In my head I knew I should have argued that I’d fought tooth and nail for my position, but in my heart, I knew he had a point, however unsettling. There were pieces of my soul that identified deeply with all of that, no matter how desperately I fought it. He’d described the battle of my entire life in such a simple, succinct metaphor, I was starting to wonder if I was truly that predictable.

Another message pinged before I could form a rebuttal.

Jericho: As a result, you’re desperate to be allowed to relax and be yourself. Every day you walk the halls of your kingdom, high on your toes and never allowed to stumble. You know that one day, someone will discover your weaknesses, because your entire reputation depends on your ability to hide your humanity, and no one can wear that mask forever.

Then another text.

Jericho: Which is why you need a man more powerful than you are. Because holding up that front, day in and day out, is exhausting, and all you want is relief and release. It was only natural that your intuition immediately sensed I could provide that for you.

I blinked a few times to process that cute little diatribe. He was still a red flag in a forest fire, but he wasn’t entirely wrong, and he was already proving a thousand times more interesting than all of the matches who sent me little more than “hi” and “send boobs.”