He shook his head.
“It was the morning when she went to confront my father’s killer. I asked her why she wouldn’t let one of the soldiers or gerents handle his rescue. And she said to me that all little girls, regardless of what they say, dream of a prince to come in and sweep them off their feet and save the day. But what no one ever mentions is that all little boys dream of a princess to do the same thing for them. But the problem with princes and princesses is that they’re spoiled and self-absorbed. They act in their own best interest. They don’t go after their loved ones to rescue them so much as they do it for their own vainglory, and to serve themselves. While she’d had many princes try for her hand, it was a king who had claimed her heart. Unlike princes, kings take responsibility. They think of others instead of themselves and they will risk everything, even their very lives, for those they love. It is never about them, but rather about the ones they cherish most. They love to such depth that they would sacrifice all just to see their family smile. For every thousand princes, there is only one king. And such rare men do not deserve a useless princess who sits on her duff and orders others to worship her and do her bidding. Kings deserve queens— rare women who never flinch to do whatever it takes to keep their king safe. Women who have the courage to face any attacker and to rally to whatever challenge life throws at them. I will not sit here, she said to me, and let your father suffer while I hide in comfort. He risked his life to keep us safe and I will do no less for him. If it means my life, so be it. After all, he is my life and I don’t want to live without him. He deserves only my best and that’s exactly what he’s going to get, no matter the personal cost.”
Ture drew a ragged breath as the tears welling in her eyes choked him. “Though I never had the pleasure of meeting her, I love your mother. You know that, right?”
She squeezed his hand as her tears began to fall. “I love her, too. And I’ve tried every day of my life to do her proud and to be the queen she wanted me to be.”
He kissed the side of her head. “Sweetie, you are better than any queen. You’re a freedom fighter for our people, and if your Darling is the king you think him to be, you will live to be an empress.”
“Then I shall be an empress. You will see.”
Ture smiled at the sincerity of her tone. How she could still believe in fairytales after everything life had tossed in her face, he had no idea. “Fine then. Just make sure when you’re empress, you find a king for me.”
“I will.”
Ture tightened his grip on her as she went limp in his arms. Fear seized him until he assured himself that she was still breathing.
Thank the gods she wasn’t dead. That was something he couldn’t even bear to contemplate. Never in his life had he known anyone as precious and loyal as Zarya.
But she wouldn’t be able to survive much more. For that matter, neither would he. Every day got harder. They couldn’t break him because he knew nothing. They couldn’t break her because she was the most stubborn creature alive.
He admired that even though it made him want to wring her neck.
His one greatest hope was that her Darling was the king she’d convinced herself that he was. In Ture’s world, such men didn’t exist. They were fables and lies.
Still, he couldn’t stop imagining a world where people didn’t disappoint each other. A world where you could put your life and heart into the hands of another and not fear betrayal or harm. A universe populated by people like Zarya...
You sound like an old woman.
He felt like an old man. Jaded. Cold. Aching. He licked at the blood on his lips and forced his thoughts away from things he knew were lies. Things that were impossible. People sucked. They were users and no matter how much you gave, they never stayed.
Closing his eyes, he prayed for death. And why shouldn’t he? He had no reason to live. Nothing to live for. Life was just something you suffered through to reach the other side.
And he was so tired now...
On the edge of his falling asleep, a loud and rude noise blared outside their cell. At first, he thought it was another form of torture.
Until he realized it came from the yard and there were soldiers responding.
He scowled at the strange sounds.
An attack?
No. It couldn’t be. No one attacked a prison. Ever. It must be another escaped prisoner who would be gunned down soon.
Yet there was no denying the blaring warning siren or the sound of running feet and shouts that they were under attack. Hoping he was right, he shook Zarya awake.
“Do you hear that?” he asked her.
Zarya could barely understand Ture’s words. Something kept buzzing in her head and it wouldn’t stop. “Hear what?”
A blast hit their door. At first she thought she imagined it.
Until it struck again.
And again.
Could it be…?