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“We could build our own house,” she mutters, looking up at me with childlike hope blooming in her eyes.
“I’ll build you your own castle.”
Her smile widens. And that fucking settles it. To see that smile again, I’ll do just that. One day, I’ll build my girl a castle.
“And you’ll build a special door for DaiSzek, where he can go in and out as he pleases?”
“Of course.”
“And a big room in the castle for Chekiss. So, we can take care of him when he gets really old?”
I sigh. Her heart is so big.“Yes.”
“And—”
“If you say a room for Niles, I’m taking it all back.”
She laughs as I tickle her sides.
Now that I think about it, this could all be so much worse. I could be on the other side of the prison, somewhere far from her cage. Somewhere I can’t touch, see, or comfort her in the night.
For this, I’m grateful.
“Would you like to live near the forest or the ocean?” I ask. Hearing the ocean waves at night might be nice and peaceful. It would be quite the change to—
Skylenna’s eyes darken. A cold, stormy, seafoam green. And they flicker like she’s watching a single, terrifying moment play out that no one else can see. A moment that seems to alter every small detail on her beautiful face. And then, with a few blinks, she’s back, wincing in my arms. Visibly aching, trembling, retreating inwardly.
“Where did you go?”
I regret asking the moment she meets my eyes. I see the woman who created her own puppets out of orderlies. The same woman who chewed off Meridei’s arm. She’s quickly so cold, so detached, so withdrawn. It reminds me of myself. Back in Demechnef training, I’d look at myself in the mirror, feeling no connection to the reflection looking back at me.
It suddenly clicks—the ocean.
“I’m a fool,” I say with a clenched jaw. “That was thoughtless.”
I’ve known a trigger of hers is a basement. Confined, dark spaces. But I’ve now doomed her with another trigger. The beach. The sand. The ocean. The sound of the waves crashing on top of each other. That fact alone clenches my stomach in a tight fist. If only I could take away that memory, absorb it into myself.
I would.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Deflection. I invented that, Skylenna.
“I can’t apologize enough.”
She waves me off. A quick dismissal and nearly a command for me to stop talking about it. Now.
“Can you tell me more about your system? The other alters? How it all works?” she asks, changing the subject in a seamless transition.
“Your idea of a bedtime story?”
She nods with a happy little yawn.
I stroke the back of her soft arm, savoring the sensation of goose bumps rising under my fingertips.
I’ve told her about a few of the others. About the different reasons they split. But we’re not exactly fond of explaining what goes on in our heads. No one really understands. At least, no one that we’ve met.
“Prompt me,” I say quietly, low enough for only her ears. “What would you like to know?”
