“It’s efficient.”
“It’s a prison. The whole place is one big prison. You know what really speaks against the way you run this place? If you won’t let people leave.”
“I—”
“Don’t start. You have one of the tightest borders on Earth. Nobody leaves this place without your permission. Only diplomats. Oh, and you. Funny how there’s one exception to every chickenshit rule here and, I’m sitting next to him.”
“Two exceptions,” he says. “If anyone else spoke to me in this manner they would have, what did you call it? A bad day.”
“I know, I know, mister hit-me-and-I’ll-cut-off-your-hand. You know what kind of a guy tears out a man’s tongue? Somebody who’s afraid of what they might say.”
He turns to me. “You just quoted Tyrion Lannister.”
“That doesn’t make it any less true. Hypocrite. I bet your average man on the street here wouldn’t get that reference. Let me guess, no HBO in Kosztyla. Not for the common folk, anyway.”
“I read that in the book. That line is not in the show.”
“A book you don’t let your people read.”
He looks over at me, and it feels like I just swallowed an ice cube.
“Do you enjoy provoking me? Is it to make yourself feel better, or do you want me to put you in your place?”
There’s an edge to that last part that I don’t like. I shift in the seat.
“Maybe if I annoy you enough, you’ll let me go home.”
“I’m not letting you go.”
“If you think you can browbeat me into adoring you like your loving subjects, you’re mistaken. You’ll never force me to like you.”
“I see that in America they do not teach gratitude.”
“You saved my life,” I sigh. “I’m grateful for that, but that doesn’t excuse everything else that you are.”
His eyes narrow. “What is that?”
“I saw what you did to those men. You enjoyed yourself. I’m not talking about the general. I’m talking about the others, on the goat path. I’m not going to forget what I saw.”
“I forgot myself,” he says quickly, turning away.
“You think I’m dumb enough to believe that?”
He doesn’t look at me. His voice is very soft.
“Yes. I did it because I wanted to. Because I like it. I wanted to hurt them. I wanted them to suffer. I saw the terror in your eyes.” His voice rises and his hands clench into fists. “I wanted them to be afraid, as you were afraid. I wanted them to know what it was like to be hurt by someone they can’t hurt back. An eye for an eye.”
“An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.”
“You would have let them live?”
“Did you have to kill them? Do you think they would have given up? What about all those men you ordered hanged before you left? They lost, they were beaten. They didn’t need to die.”
“They didn’t need to live, either.”
I chew my lip.
“Many who live deserve death.”
“Yes.”
“Many that die deserve life. Can you give it to them?”
He looks at me for a brief moment then turns away.
“Stop quoting books at me.”
“I’m an English teacher. Can’t help it.”
“If I could, I would,” he says softly.
“Could what?”
“Give life.”
The pain in his voice is like a knife drawing along my skin. He doesn’t look at me when he says it. He leans and touches his fingers to his chin, in thought.
I think we’re here. The car stops.
I know enough to recognize stables. I move to step out and when I open the door I’m confronted by a servant opening it all the way.
I step out onto a rug lying in the mud, I suppose so as not to dirty my skirts or slippers. The prince strides around and offers me his arm, walking me down a path of planks with carpets laid over them toward the stables.
“You have ridden before?”
“I’ve sat on a horse before, yes. Ridden, not really.”
“Oh?”
I shrug. “Birthday party when I was twelve. Not my birthday, a friend’s birthday. I think. Maybe my mom’s friend’s kid’s birthday. I can’t remember. Anyway there was a horse and we took turns sitting on it.”
“I do not see the point of that.”
“I don’t know, kids. They like weird stuff. The horse pooped on my foot.”
He looks at me. I shrug.
It did poop on my foot.
When we arrive there are two horses. One is huge, and black. The other is smaller, and brown.
Also, it has a chair on its back. A funny, twisted leather chair, like a saddle but…chairy.
“What is that?”
“A sidesaddle.”
“You’re making me ride sidesaddle? I’m going to fall off and break my neck.”
“You won’t. This mount is well trained. I assumed you lack experience riding. Do as I tell you and you will not be hurt.”