Page 70 of The Horned King

"Because it is one of only two times she's seen me cry," he admits, a blush rising on his cheeks.

"And the other?" I taunt.

All the color leaves his face. "That one is not a story for your ears, my Elva."

Memories from our trip to the orphanage pop up, reminding me that the former king did something terrible to Raya, and I can't help but wonder if the two things are related. But if his change in mood is anything to go by, it's not a subject he's willing to talk about, and I'm not going to push him on this, not when we are so close to the peace I've been searching for.

I'm so close to being finished with all of this, and then I can go home and bring the stories of my adventures with me to share with my friends and countrymen.

Not all the stories, of course. Some will just be mine. Mine to reminisce on someday when I'm... well, I guess someday when I'm married and feeling nostalgic. It feels strange and somewhat sickening to think that there will be days when I'm committed to someone else.

I've always thought I would settle down eventually, after serving my country, and find a nice person with whom I might want to raise children. But sitting here, after seeing how much the world actually has to explore, the idea of that life is stifling. Just thinking about it feels like I'm suffocating.

How can I go back to a life I used to dream of, back when I believed it was the only life I could ever have? I'm not foolish enough to think that Kairon and I could have a love story. He's certainly not the type to move to a small house and have a family.

"Are you alright?" he finally asks. "You're being completely unlike yourself today. You haven't even asked me a single question about the basilisks."

"Basilisks?" His redirection reminds me of the book I was reading the other night. "How did you— do you snoop through what I read in the library?"

The tops of his ears and cheeks redden. "I do."

Feigning offense, I gasp, "How dare you?"

"In my defense," he says, taking another drink before placing it before him, "you always come to me with a list of questions, and I rarely have the answers. So I've taken to glancing at your reading material and finding related texts."

Curiosity gets the best of me. "And what did you find?"

He grins, and I'm fully distracted, forgetting whatever upset me just moments ago in order to enjoy our shared love of new discoveries.

"There isn't much known about them, to be honest. Their gazes are known to be fatal, their venom even more so." I nod, having read the same thing yesterday. "But they're also quite small, only being a foot long or so. And in the rolling plains of the desert where they reside, the howling wind and swirling sand hides them until it's too late."

"Then how are there any stories?" I ask the one question I hadn't been able to find an answer to.

He smiles. "That's the exact answer I was looking for." My head starts nodding without any conscious effort on my part, silently begging for whatever he found. "There have been a handful of stories over the years, never confirmed, of course, but people have claimed that the basilisks spotted them and buried their heads in the sand to let them pass by safely."

"Really?"

He smiles bigger. "Those same people claim to have found riches beyond their wildest imagination hidden within the desert."

"And what happened to them?"

"They were killed. Robbed, usually."

The air in my chest deflates. "What?"

"Elva, there's nowhere on this earth someone can travel through, bragging about untold riches to anyone who will listen and not be attacked by someone," he explains.

"But the things those people have seen!" I argue. "And they're killed over... money? Something so trivial?"

The king's eyes narrow slightly. "Trivial?" He hmms in thought. "The only people who could possibly call money trivial are those who have always had access to it."

"I—"

"Have you ever gone without food for days? Or even wondered where your next meal will come from? Or where you might lay your head at night?" he asks me, not without kindness, just that calm demeanor he uses when Kai knows he's facing my naivety once again.

"No," I admit. While my country has its issues, food security and housing have never been one of them.

He tilts his head. "Perhaps if you did, you would think differently about whether knowledge is more important than money."

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