Page 175 of Plug and Drain

“You’re right,” Susie whispered. “That is strange.”

“Hm. That’s what I thought. The bed was smaller in my dream though. There wasn’t room for all three of us.”

Jealousy sparked in Susie’s chest, and her gaze snapped to Sarah’s, who still had her eyes closed. “All three of us?”

She had a mental image of a fully-clothed Arken sliding into the other side of the bed beside Sarah. She didn’t like it.

“Yes. All three of us. You, me, and Harry. It wasn’t anything weird though. It was just a dream.”

Susie relaxed.

Sarah was soon snoring again.

Susie tilted her head to the left slightly to peer at the desk on the far side of the room.

Arken was working by candlelight, the scratching of his quill a familiar sound to her by now. She wondered what he was working on, and whether he’d overheard her whispered conversation with Sarah.

She decided it didn’t matter one way or another. There were far more important things that weren’t being said.

Arken had promised they would talk, but it was a conversation they were both avoiding. He’d kept stalling, and her courage had evaporated, so she’d stopped asking.

Whenever she found herself alone with him, she would feign sleep until Sarah arrived with their homework. Usually, engaging Sarah in conversation did the trick—she was a nervous talker, and Arken’s presence ensured she kept up a steady stream of conversation.

Maybe it was better this way, not talking. She wasn’t ready to hear about why he’d let her down. The more she thought about it, the more she realised how terrible he felt about what had happened, and she had no intention of making him feel worse.

There was nothing he could say to excuse the way he’d let Henrikk force her, except for the obvious: that Henrikk was the King, a tyrannical ruler who could do anything he wanted, to whomever he pleased.

And nothing Arken could do would change that. They were all subject to the King’s will.

No other explanation was necessary.

It was the way of the world, and the sooner she accepted that, the better. It was nothing like her fantasy books, and everything seemed even grimmer and harsher than how the history books painted the past. The thought made her throat tighten, and she tried to put Arken from her mind.

She generally avoided looking at him. Even so, she was constantly aware of his presence. Whether he was sitting at his desk, or standing by the single window, she followed his movements intensely.

On one occasion, when Sarah had gone to class, and it was just Susie and Arken, she’d pretended to be engrossed in an essay for Professor Marmala whilst she watched him stare out the window. She’d been careful not to stall the pace of her quill, even if it meant doodling in the margins of her essays, but she had a feeling Arken knew she was watching him.

He seemed to not only sense her emotions but anticipate her needs as well. Meal times seemed to come at no particular time except whenever she was hungry, and once, when she was craving something sweet, he’d appeared with a glass bowl of strawberry pudding.

“You’re taking a great risk, bringing me something that you’re allergic to,” she’d joked, trying to lighten the mood.

To show him that they could move on.

Arken had given a short laugh at her joke, and then a tense heaviness had filled the air. She hadn’t tried humour again.

No, she tried not to think about Arken, or how he brought her desserts, or the way his clever fingers untwisted the cork stopper of the sleeping draught, his eyes narrowing as he measured the correct amount of medication.

She didn’t think about how his eyes would sometimes reluctantly meet hers, and how he seemed most relaxed when he wasn’t looking at her. She didn’t think about what that meant, or what he thought of when he saw her.

Just like she tried not to think about the fact that this was his bed, or that his room smelled of parchment and books. There was also an intoxicating blend of citrus and lavender coming from somewhere near where he worked. She was curious to find the source—if only she could walk.

Sarah had done some snooping on her behalf, and they’d discovered that Arken was sleeping on a chaise in his main office. Although, ever since Susie had asked him about it, he’d taken to dozing in his chair. He looked almost adorable when he was like that, with his feet set high on the desk and a purple night robe over his suit. He looked at peace when he slept, with relaxed facial muscles and interlaced hands, and it made her realise just how much tension he carried all the time.

It made her regret ever thinking his job was easy.

More days slipped past, and Susie was becoming used to the new routine of her life. She would read during the day, avoiding Arken’s gaze whenever he was present, which was often. Sarah came and went frequently, and Susie knew it was in case she needed the bathroom. She tried to limit how much she ate and drank in the mornings to try and save her the trouble, but Sarah came anyway. She also visited immediately after school, and usually disappeared for a few hours until dinner. Susie envied her each time she left, but being in Arken’s office was not so bad.

It gave her a strange feeling of being sheltered from the outside world, as if they were living in a bubble immune to noise.