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“No,” she said softly. “I don’t. I quite enjoy it. But don’t tell anyone I said that, because I am supposed to be civilizing you, and you do need to learn to not growl in public spaces.”
He finished the cupcake quickly.
And then eyed the tray.
“Have another. They’re for you.”
He did take another. “Maybe you should consider sleeping in your bed also,” she said sweetly.
That was met with another growl. “No. I don’t think that I could.”
“Why not?”
“How would I know when to wake up?”
“What does that have to do with when you wake up?”
“I know when to wake up when I’m too cold. When my body hurts too badly. That’s how I know.”
“There are alarm clocks, you know. You don’t have to count on being uncomfortable.”
“Still. I’m not certain.”
“Well, that’s the beauty of freedom, Riyaz,” she said. “The door will be unlocked. So if you decide that you do not wish to sleep in your bedroom anymore you can always go to the dungeon. Because you’re not a prisoner. Not now.”
“I appreciate that,” he said.
“Good.”
“I am prepared to sit here.” He looked around the room. “I’m not afraid of those who might oppose me.”
“Do you think people will?”
“It is always a possibility. Always. But what can be done to me that has not been already done? I have been a prisoner. And I suppose they could choose to kill me. But it does not frighten me. I had to make my peace with death after the first coup.”
“You should never have had to do that.”
“Maybe not. But it is the way of things.”
“Tell me. Tell me what it was like when you and Cairo were children. Before this happened.”
This beautiful woman was plying him with cupcakes after he had treated her appallingly. He had wanted to protect her, but he could see that he had frightened her. And he did not care for that. And he could not quite figure out if she actually wanted to hear about his childhood, or if this was some exercise of hers. But he found he wanted to tell her either way. Because he had spoken to no one about this, not even Cairo. And there was something tantalizing about it. He did his best not to remember when he was in the dungeon. It was as if he had no past or future when he was in there. Nothing but the present, because it was the only way to get through any of it. If he remembered how happy he had once been, he might go mad. If he thought about how much better life would be if he were out, he would surely go mad.
And so now, as a man with a future that did not include the walls of the dungeon, he decided to allow himself to be a man with the past. With her.
“We had a good life as children. We had lessons. For most of the day. Five days a week. Our father was strict. He did not wish for us to grow up to be entitled or spoiled. He was quite concerned about that. He said many kings fall because they love themselves more than they love their people. He said many kings became corrupt trying to protect only their own interests. He did not wish for that to be so for us. So he taught us, not only the sorts of subjects you expect to learn in school, but to give ourselves over to the service of others. To prize philanthropy. Do not take ourselves so seriously. He was a good father.”
“And your mother?”
He tried to picture his mother. Tried to picture her when she was not screaming for help. Looking at him with dark, pleading eyes as they...
“I loved her,” he said. He could not bring himself to say more.
She seemed to understand. “What kind of a brother was Cairo? I know him as a... A friend.”
“A friend you are in love with.”
“Nothing has ever happened between us. And it won’t. I know that.”
