And her name is…

“Gotta love a good non consenting floor nap,” I mutter. “Did I miss dinner?”

Someone scoffs but green eyes answers. “It’s shower day, you don’t think he’d kick you awake if he’d come? Especially with that twisted smile on his face that he’s been coming in with.”

You don’t know the half of it, but no I don’t think he would kick me awake.

I don’t say that of course, only nod. So, as far as they know he’s still coming but that doesn’t mean he won’t change his mind. I don’t bother to tell them I’m not sure if I could even stand long enough to shower. They wouldn’t care if I sat on the floor for it.

The silence feels deafening and I can’t sit in it anymore.

“There was the girl in my town, Beth, and she had the most luxurious sitting room you’d ever seen but you could only enter it in your best dress for tea. Her family was from overseas and tea time was very important in their community there, so they continued the tradition. Shoes did not enter this room and if you spilt on anything your were never invited back. The house was passed down through the family and each generation then women only made it look more exquisite.

“None of them could remember by the end of their life what it had looked like at the beginning because they were constantly making their home better. It began as a single story two bedroom house, and by the end it had seven bedrooms on three floors. The house was the finest on the block, but the family made sure to help all their neighbours with their own home repairs and improvements.

“Most of the people in my town were kind like that, but this block was always the nicest. You set foot in the area and you could just feel the life and energy. Everyone was always happy because they wanted for nothing and had people they could lean on.

“The first Saturday of every month I was there for tea and Beth would make the same tea biscuits as her great grandmother. Her mom had never quite gotten them right, but Beth was a very good baker.”

I smile at them, but it’s full of exhaustion. “Do you know why Beth’s family always helped her neighbours?” I didn’t wait long for anyone to ask, continuing on like they had. “Yes the family was too kind for this earth, and yes they shared their good fortune to a lot of people in town, but if Ms. Carr next door didn’t get her rubbish bin fixed it would attract rodents who would then ravage Mr. Hue’s gardens.While the rodents thrived in the summer they would need somewhere to burrow in the winter, eating away at the homes and moving in to the attics and cellars.

“Beth’s family had the most well stocked cellar in town, and because it was the best maintained and constructed they were often asked to store things for others in exchange for favours. If anyone was ever in need, they knew where they could turn, and in exchange Beth and her family barely needed to even ask for anything.”

“So they helped others, to help themselves?” The green eyed guard asked me questionably.

“They helped others because they know that shit might not run directly up hill, but that doesn’t mean it won’t affect you. Being the only mansion surrounded by a sea of shit doesn’t do anyone any good, and preventing a big problem by providing a little help in the beginning meant avoiding dealing with a much larger and more exorbitant problem later.”

I jump, noticing that Wulfric had entered the room without me hearing him. Immediately all the guards start to get up and leave the room, muttering apologies. His eyes don’t leave mine the entire time, but my eyes are having a hard time staying open.

“Is that your hot take on Kheliq’s rule?” He asks when the door is closed and the last last man is gone.

“In that he is heading toward having his mansion on a hill surrounded by shit? Yes,” I reply pointedly.

I lean against the wall, when I really want to lay down, and he notices. “Tired?”

I just nod lazily. No acting here, I am exhausted. His eyes lock with mine and he smirks like he believes I’m exaggerating for sympathy before sliding my tray under the bars. I groan but he commands I eat so I move to stand.. and quickly get a world spinning head rush that sends me to the floor.

The fall, the pain, the low blood pressure that made me pass out, allreal, but did I plan it? Absolutely. Distantly I think someone calls my name, but no one knows my real name here. My head hits the back of my hands as I try to brace my fall but I still hear the musical jangle of keys in a lock.

My vision is still black but I can feel hands on me. I can’t remember who’s they are and I try to bat them away. I shriek when they wrap around me and lift me to them.

After a second I smell steal and wheat, and recognize that it’s Wulfric, but that doesn’t necessarily bring me any relief. Somehow still, just smelling him gives my hits a little less force. I blink feverishly trying to get my vision to come back but I must have hit my head harder than I thought.

“Little mouse,” he says softly. “What happened?”

With his words I feel so weak.I was just flailing on the floor and screeching. No one was even trying to hit me. I don’t even have the sense right now to act like I’m unaffected by my dwindling life.

“I’m fine,” the lie comes easily but he turns over my arm and I know he sees the red line from Kheliq’s blade.

I’m not healing like I used to.

“This is how he takes your blood?”

I guess the guards don’t talk much, or Wulfric isn’t good at listening in on conversations. His reaction doesn’t sound like he cares all that much, but I didn’t expect it to. He sounds more like he’s confused or surprise and I pull my hand away to rub at my eyes to see.

“Why don’t you see for yourself tomorrow,” I retort, looking up at him and blinking as he comes into focus.

His face is so close to mine I startle and then try to push away. I have zero strength left and it does essentially nothing so I give up after a few seconds.

“He’s still bleeding you once a week?” He asks in the same almost curious tone.

“So far.” I move to sit but barely make it out of his arms before my head is spinning. I should have forced myself to eat more of the lunch. But the nausea. “I don’t think I can stand to shower, can I use the chair?” He shakes his head and stands up with me in his arms. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to help you shower,” he says steadily.

“Why? Why care at all?” The words almost make me start crying and I tell myself it’s because I’m exhausted, but I know it’s because this act requires a new level of vulnerability and trust on my part, that I don’t have.

He sighs deeply and the breath moves through my hair, and then he breathes in my scent. “I feel like I’ve woken up in the middle of a war I didn’t know was happening,-“ he replies after a moment while sitting me on the chair and then turning the water on, “-and I’m not sure I’m on the right side.”

I look at him, stunned, but I have no words. This has to be a trick. After six years there’s no way it can be this easy. He is trying to get me to slip up and I won’t fall for it.

“Where are you from?” He asks after testing the water and looking at me again.

“Darlenton,” I return, though I’m sure he already knows. “Lived there all my life until Kheliq’s men burnt it down.”

He nods. “I’m not sure I should be happy he didn’t lie about that.”

“Well, he did it. I was there.” I mutter, not knowing what else to say.

He moves back to me after confirming the water temperature and begins to kick off his shoes and pull off socks. I watch him for a minute and then he takes off his shirt and tosses it onto a chair at the side.

“What are you doing?” I stammer out but he’s walking to me and gesturing for me to raise my arms.

I don’t, and he frowns. “Helping you stand so you can shower.”

“I’m fine,” I argue, but we both know I’m not.

“You’re wasting away,” he says, easily pushing my hands aside to remove my shirt despite me hitting him.

“A shower won’t help this!”

“No,” he agrees, “but it’s a start. Then you will eat, and tomorrow I make sure he doesn’t bleed you again.”