29.

Elai's pov

“I used to be much worse. Used to spent my time anywhere but at home.” I didn’t expect to fall deeper into the conversation, but here I am, listening to his smooth voice. “Wasn’t allowed to but- I got more affection from the whores I paid than from the man I loved.” Arlon sits back down into his chair and leans his feet onto the desk, eyes sharply looking into mine. I rest my hands in-between my legs and feel myself getting flustered. “Did he not love you back?” I don’t want to be the one to judge his past mistakes, if they even were mistakes at all. I do not know what happened to him, or what played between him and this lover of his. I want to know, but it is not my business. It never will be.
For some reason, the king stands back up after a brief rest and decides to drop himself onto his bed. It is large, bigger than the one in my room. He sinks into the sheets and I wish to be there with him, or without him. It looks comfortable, and I suddenly begin to realize how tired I am. Arlon lets out a soft chuckle as he lays his hand upon his stomach. I can’t see his face from here, I can only look at his legs bending over the edge.
“He did. I am sure.” The words are said with doubt, though. There is so much to uncover, so much to know. Now all he tells me is cryptic and foreign. I wish to know.
“Then why would you seek it in someone else?” I shouldn’t have asked.
He sits up straight, eyes dark. “Do you prefer love that is violent or love that is tender?”
I really should not have asked.
My lips are sealed; he is right. I should shut my mouth and not question him any further, or I will clearly push my finger into an unclosed wound. He doesn’t want me to, it is obvious in his manners. He’s nervous and uncomfortable, he’s picking at his skin and his hands are trembling. It is a heavy subject, and it turns out to be a lot more heavier than I expected. Violence. I feel sick.
“I am sorry. I keep pushing myself into your business.” I stand up, eyes looking down at the ground. I can’t look up anymore. I am ashamed for finding out a piece of him this way. “Have you ever felt it?” Arlon insists on me staying for a little longer just with that simple question. I do not know if he asks out of curiosity or to make me feel guilty for prying. I do not know if it would bring him comfort if someone around him has been in a situation like his own. But he won’t find it with me. I do not know anything about love. “Have you felt how it is to be hurt by someone you love? By someone you swore your life to?”
I have to close my eyes and pinch myself to try and not haste away. I don’t want to offend him. Not now that I have already brought up memories that probably haunt him, still. “I have not. I’ve never been in l- ove..” the word is hard to push out of my mouth all of a sudden. My eyes meet his as soon as I say it, and it stays stuck in my mouth for a few seconds. They don’t look angry. He’s leaning his elbows against his knees, hands intertwined and a small frown on his face.
“Lucky you.” Arlon means the words he says.
I can’t believe them, unfortunately. I want to be in love, I want to know what it is like to feel someone, to hold them when you cry and laugh. I want to know all of it. all the good and bad parts, until it breaks me. It is all in life I have left to discover in a human. It is the only emotion I have never seen. “My father used to be violent.” I dare to sit back down. I want to bring him the comfort he is seeking. I can see it in his eyes, the desperate feeling of wanting to talk. I guess he has never really spoken about it, neither do I know if he’s ready yet. But want.. the want is there. Maybe telling a stranger is easier. Chay was easier to talk to, too. “When I was born-“ I do not know if it is safe to tell, but it is right. It is good in this moment. “My mother died. My father believes I was born a curse, and that I will die as one. I took his wife away from him, his only reason.” The only thing that can protect me now, is the fact that no one knows I exist. Arlon can’t recognize my truth from any book or story. He can’t have heard a word about it inside of these city walls, or the ones further away. No one knows who I am. This is what I have to rely on, now. All to be able to comfort my enemy. To comfort Arlon.
“I’ve never felt a kiss on the cheek, like my brothers did. I had to live with the burning pain of his flat palm. It is all he was able to give me.” I stop there. The lump in my throat is getting too big to speak. I am angry. I am angry at my father. I am so angry that if I got the chance, I would kill him. I would watch him die in every horrible way. I would want to hear him cry and beg for mercy, the mercy I wouldn’t give him. It would bring me peace.
“He sounds like an awful man.”
Arlon makes me laugh through the tears that have formed in my eyes. I didn’t expect him to go into it a bit more. He isn’t like me. He isn’t as stupid.
“Yours doesn’t sound much better.” I make a mistake of bringing it back to the man he talked about, but this time he laughs with me. It is a serene moment. We both laugh about it first, but then the laughs turn meaningless. They slowly turn into soft chuckles, until they eventually die out. My stomach turns. It felt good to laugh with him. It felt good to see that face again and I hate it. i hate everything about it, because it makes me.. feel. it makes me- I have to stop. I have to stop allowing myself to walk into this trap, into this maze that is Arlon himself. I am not the one who should try and figure him out, I am not the one who should stay and try to dig a little more. It is not my duty. It will never be.
“I should go. I am quite tired.” I can’t have him realize that my attempt to.. kiss him did indeed work out. I distracted him and pulled him away from the subject. I even made him open up just the tiniest bit. I can’t ruin it by staying any longer.
“You don’t have to, you know. I am not much of a sleeper.” Arlon is trying to keep me here once more, but this time it isn’t to dig into my true identity. I can see that he simply wants the company I am now able to give him. If I stay, we will probably talk about nothing that can bring me into danger.
“I really shouldn’t stay.” But I do not want to talk about nothing. I want to go. I have to go. If it isn’t him who persuades me to tell the truth, it will be his eyes. Or his smile, or his hands. I have grown weak around him.
I turn without looking at him. My feet are fast, but I can hear his catch up with me fast enough. He presses his hand against the door before I can open it. My breath is stuck in my throat when I slowly look up at him. He is smiling, eyes still as dark. “You can come by whenever you want. I want you to know that.” He opens the door for me and even bows, smile still plastered on his face. I smile back at him, just for a short while. I don’t bow back. I still can’t do that, simply because of my own kingdom. I hate my father, I don’t like my brothers, but I can’t get myself to hate all of Lyle. It is my home, and it carries the sun as its god. If the myths about her aren’t true, then she would not want me to bow for a moon-born. She would not want me to bow to an enemy. Arlon doesn’t care; he simply huffs and closes the door behind me. “Thank- you..” I was too late, but I meant it.