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Athos
Though she hesitated at first, Claire drank the entire cup of tea quickly. I was impressed by her bravery, to be frank.
She wrinkled her nose a little as she set the empty cup on the table. I watched her expectantly, wondering what her reaction would be. But after a moment, her face cleared.
“It actually wasn’t so bad,” she murmured as she looked into the cup. “Sort of sweet.”
“I’m glad.”
I was excited that she had made the choice to take it, of course. But it made me feel better to know that she had enjoyed it. With any luck, she’d remain happy with her decision. I knew that in a few hours, I wouldn’t have any regrets.
“It will take a little time to take effect,” I continued. “While we wait, would you like to come pick vegetables in the garden with me?”
She nodded, and I led her outside. As we left, I noticed with surprise that I had said it as a request rather than a demand. Up until this point, I’d kept her in my sight, but I supposed at some point, she’d stopped being a prisoner.
Probably when she let me watch her bathe, I reflected with amusement.
We walked around the hut to a little plot of land. I’d been growing my own food since I came to Earth five years before, so by this point, the garden was well established.
“Wow.” Her eyes widened as she took it all in. “This is huge!”
I had seen much larger plots when I’d snuck into the rural areas around the closest town. To me, it didn’t seem that big.
“Well, I do have to grow most of what I eat,” I reminded her.
“I don’t garden at all.” She shook her head. “I travel too much for work. I’d be too depressed if everything was rotting because I wasn’t there to take care of it.”
“It is a lot of effort. But well worth it, at least for me. The vegetables that grow on Earth are just as good as the ones on Yakeron.”
“Is there anything you miss?” She started toward the garden, appraising each row.
“I miss the food. I can grow vegetables and herbs here, but not the same ones. Which means that my favorite foods from back home don’t have the ingredients here. I’ve tried to recreate them as best as I can, but it’s not the same.”
She looked at me sympathetically. “Do you ever want to go back home?”
I hesitated. It was a fair question, but she had accidentally stumbled upon a sensitive subject for me. She didn’t know that, of course. But she must have seen the look on my face and flushed.
“Never mind,” she said hurriedly. “It’s none of my business.”
I felt a twinge of guilt at making her feel bad like that. Answering her seemed like the least I could do, all things considered.
“No, it’s okay.” I tried to muster a reassuring smile. Taking a deep breath, I gathered myself to explain. At least, a simplified version of the story. “I was the head librarian on Yakeron. I had access to the most classified documents and books that had been passed on. Research, genealogy, history – everything. Anything written in our kingdom came to me. I kept it safe for the future.”
She looked at me expectantly, her eyes big and curious.
“I also read voraciously. I wanted to know everything in the library. One day, I found a little-known secret. The king was not the biological son of our previous ruler, as most had thought. That meant that his ascension to the throne could be challenged if the word got out.”
Her mouth formed a little ‘o’ of surprise. She didn’t say anything and listened intently.
“Obviously, having this information did not gain me favor with the king. He conspired against me, trying to get me out of the way so that I could not use it against him. I wouldn’t have, anyway, but he was convinced that I posed a threat to him. So, he plotted to have me imprisoned as a traitor and planted evidence that I was behind a coup to overthrow him.”
“Wow,” she breathed, caught up in the story.
“I knew that I would die if I stayed. He wouldn’t have been satisfied otherwise. I fled and ended up finding a star portal that brought me here, to Earth. Even if I could use the portal to get back home, it would mean my death.”
I left big chunks of the story out. Not because I didn’t trust her, but simply because it was still hard for me to talk about it. I didn’t like thinking about the months I’d spent wandering the desert, trying to escape a death squad. I didn’t want to remember my time in prison, or how very, very bleak everything had seemed then.
She seemed satisfied with my answer and didn’t pry any further.
