Page 15 of King’s Kismet

I grabbed a change of clothes, smiling to myself when I noticed the closet was half filled with my things. I was sure she hadn’t unpacked them. Franklin probably had.

The thought that they were still here?

Yeah, that told me she hadn’t really moved on from what we’d had.

Now, I just needed to give her a couple of hours to think about how easy everything was when we were together, and I’d be able to really talk to her. An honest talk, not a screaming match.

This was the first time I’d ever tried to sleep in this house and not been in her bed. It felt strange, but then again… I’d been sleeping on a stone floor for so long that any bed would be a huge leap forward. That the room was tailored to my personal tastes almost made me tear up. Having my own space suddenly felt unbelievable.

I headed for the shower, leaving a short trail of dirty clothes behind me, just because I could. Freedom felt nice, but my body still had aches and pains from the disuse of muscles.

The rapid healing the earth had given me when Stone and Palmer pulled me out of the dungeon had done wonders on my body. The more time I spent in my element, the stronger I’d get. It was going to take a few more days to get back to normal health, but I’d gladly wait them out.

My thoughts twisted and twined together like the roots of a Weeping Willow. The shower wasn’t as relaxing as I had hoped, but maybe I was tired enough to doze. On autopilot, I dried off my body and slipped into some cotton sleep shorts I’d forgotten were mine.

Well, they were mine now. They’d once belonged to Palmer, but I’d found them in the dryer at the house we used to share, so I’d permanently borrowed them.

I pulled the covers back on the bed, paying no mind to the little details this room held. I’d look the place over tomorrow. Tonight, I just needed sleep.

It didn’t come as quickly as I wanted it to, though. I tossed and turned. I beat at my pillow and got tangled in my blankets, then kicked them completely off the bed. At one point, I just rolled onto my back and pressed the pillow over my head.

I wasn’t trying to suffocate myself or anything.

I was trying to shut the world out. Trying to stop the flow of awful memories I’d collected over the duration of my captivity. The pain, torture, and fighting were all swallowed up by the one memory I hated most.

The day I gave in and stopped fighting.

I didn’t remember how long I’d been there when I finally gave up on escaping, but I remembered the events like they were happening all over again.

The dead feeling of not resisting, the manic smile that had spread over Kelvin’s face when he knew he had broken me, the shame and humiliation that washed over me.

All of it.

That day had led to the biggest power drain they’d gotten from me. It was the point of no return. It had weakened me too much.

To say I had PTSD was probably an understatement. I was no shrink, but this shit would haunt me for the rest of my long life. My only hope was to make so many good memories that they overshadowed the bad ones.

That was my new goal, and it was why I had asked Sloane to dance with me in the first place.

She’d been my light in all the darkness. When I could muster up enough power, usually before a drain, I’d try to push my dreams to her. I would cross my fingers and pray to anyone that would listen, hoping I could catch her while she was resting.

If she could just remember some of the memories I’d asked the Fae King to lock away, then she could find me before it was too late. It didn’t work like I had planned until it was almost too late.

Fed up with my fight for sleep, I pulled myself from the bed and tried to find a distraction. I wanted to go back to the greenhouse. I had once filled that room with plants from my homeland, and somehow someone had kept them alive without me.

Or maybe… maybe they were only alive because I was.

They’d been wilted, but not dead, when Sloane and I had gone in there.

By the time we’d left? They were lively and vibrant. Some even bloomed in the few hours we were dancing in their presence.

Upon entering a second time, I took stock of the room in its entirety. The smell of the fern-like plants was heavy in the air. The sound of water flowing was a peaceful change of pace to my racing thoughts. Colorful flowers had multiplied, making the space feel bright and homey, even in the dim nighttime lights.

This room was my safe place. No one could reach me here, except the people I trusted most.

I wandered idly down the thin path to the center of the room. Spinning in my place, I soaked in all the energy the plants offered me. It was a gift that I couldn’t refuse.

Not just because of my state of being, but because it would have been considered rude to refuse them. They knew I needed the help, and I didn’t need to ask for it. They would always give freely to me, and I always gave back.