Page 67 of The Horned King

"Any of my enemies could find them and get them to give up vital information," I explain, not understanding what she's not getting here.

She raises both brows like I'm the one who doesn't get it. "And do you see how that wouldn't just be bad for you, but for them? How someone who wants that kind of intel will torture, maim, or even kill them to get it?"

I'm rendered speechless, and she continues, "Taking that from them is probably horrible, but imagine what kind of life they would be living with that knowledge. Sometimes, being merciful means being cruel."

"Elva, I-"

"Hey!" Miss Fee interrupts me. "Are you two coming inside or what?"

Elva laughs, pushing me forward. "Come on. I get the feeling she doesn't like to ask twice."

Nineteen

Elva

We've spent the entire day here amongst these kids who clearly mean so much to Kairon. He hands a sleeping toddler to Miss Fee, smiling at them as they ascend the stairs before turning to me. Our eyes meet, and I can't help but grin at him, enjoying some time with just Kairon before we return to our assigned roles.

"Sit." He gestures at the closest couches. "We'll say goodnight to Miss Fee when she comes back down, then walk home."

I nod, smoothing down my pant legs as I sit across from him.

This is what I wanted to see when I first arrived, and yet, there's no way I could have appreciated it then as I do now. Seeing this place through the eyes I was taught to use would have been a waste of time.

This is the best anyone in Oksangui can do. Truthfully, it's the best anyone anywhere could do for these children. Coming to this country, I thought it was full of the worst of mankind, the most terrible of monsters. But through the history books I've read here and the stories Maren tells me during our mid-afternoon walks, it's become clear to me that everywhere is the same. Anyone is capable of being a villain in someone else's story.

Rhyma has just become very adept at hiding their atrocities with frilly words and empty promises. Can I go back there and continue to do the same? Absolutely not. So, how can I take what I've learned here and use it to help my nation thrive? Pretending to be without fault is not the same thing as being perfect.

"What are you thinking?" Kairon asks me, noting my mental absence.

With a sigh, I confess, "I'm just thinking about how I can take what I've learned from your home and use it to help my own improve."

For a second, it looks as if his chest caves in, like he's trying to take a breath but cannot. His expression is full of fear, the blood draining from his face. Then, all at once, he is himself again, an emotional blank slate. The change is so rapid that I'm almost certain I imagined the entire thing.

He clears his throat. "And what have you come up with?"

"Well, I think my people believe yours to be..." I can't think of the proper word.

"Barbaric?" he supplies with a grin.

"Sure," I laugh. "But the truth is that you are just more willing to face the darker pieces of yourself. I've—Rhyma pushes us to be the best sides of ourselves, but I wonder if they just mean that they want the pretty version—the facade."

A calm understanding fills his face as he leans back, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. "I think that's fair to say. I told you the day after you arrived that you wear a mask, did I not?"

"You did," I agree begrudgingly, fighting a blush at the memory of his proximity that day. "I just don't think I understood what you meant then. I assumed everyone did, I suppose. That being human just means being what everyone around you wants you to be. I never considered that it was being false, just that our wickedness is something to be shunned, shoved in a dark corner, and ignored."

He laughs. "Well, for some, that probably is true. Unfortunately, those are also the ones who are generally blessed with terrible power to match."

"Like you?"

He beams, grinning ear to ear. "Like me."

I need to tell him about mine. He's shown me this piece of himself and trusted me with it. He needs to know about me before he puts any more misplaced faith in me.

"Kai." I swallow my nerves. "I need to-"

"So, Mr. Horned King, you didn't think little old Miss Fee deserved a warning that you were bringing a guest this time?" The old woman appears, carrying three small tin glasses. She hands me one, settling into the chair beside mine and holding her glass against her forehead. "Those children were begging to stay up and play with the girl with a lion's mane."

A laugh escapes me. The description is so apt it's hilarious. My hair has become utterly wild from all the running and playing today. Kairon watches me across the table, a small smile pulling at one side of his lips.

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