11. TALIESIN #2
I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my mouth. Without asking permission, I sit on the edge of the cot. “Got you a Christmas slash birthday present.” When I waggle the condom in her face she grimaces.
“What the fuck?”
“Magic mushrooms, not very potent, but basically the only drugs in this place. They’ll probably ease your pain for a while.”
I pass her a shriveled gray cap.
“Is this going to make me hallucinate? I don’t want that.”
“No, I promise. It’ll just give you a break from the discomfort for a few hours.” I save the rest for Imran.
Aurora eyes the fungi suspiciously for a moment then puts it in her mouth. “Ew, gross.”
“First time?” I ask, already pretty sure of the answer. This is Aurora Drakeward, Princess of the Elite. If she’s doing drugs, it’s the finest white stuff money can buy—not something literally grown in shit.
“First time, yep. Everything is a first time for me,” she murmurs.
“Sure. Slumming it like this has not been your everyday experience, I get it.”
Grimacing as she swallows the last of the shrooms, she shakes her head. “No, it’s not like that.”
“Sure, Princess.”
“I’m serious. I’ve been locked away in the family home all my life, only seeing tutors, dance instructors and, thankfully quite infrequently, my parents. I’m a complete blank when it comes to life.”
Fucking pretty little liar, is she trying to win my sympathy? Well she can think again. “Weren’t you at a party when you got arrested?”
“I get to go to functions maybe twice a year, but have to stay by my parents’ side the whole time. I’m not allowed to fraternize, as my father puts it, with anyone unless he says so.”
Her words shock me. I’d imagined her Elite life being a blur of parties, private planes, champagne lifestyle. “What about your brother? He seemed alright, for a rich Elite prick. Didn’t you hang with him?”
“Very rarely. I was literally imprisoned in one wing of our family home and he was in the other. Cosmo was allowed friends though. I’d watch them out of my window, laughing and goofing around, then get smacked across the knuckles for not working on my piano sonata or whatever ‘ladylike’ pursuit I was supposed to study. ”
“Well, shit, Princess.” I rub my head, not really sure how to respond.
I’ve been thinking she’s lived this gilded life, but turns out she’s been behind bars too.
Even if hers were made of gold. But at the same time, she was warm, fed, and clothed.
Aurora Drakeward never had to worry about paying bills or where the next meal was coming from.
“How long does this mushroom stuff take to kick in?” she asks, lying back down.
“Forty-five minutes or so. There’s something I need to tell you before you get too stoned.”
“What’s that? I’m being released tomorrow? You’ve arranged a spa day for me?” She smiles slightly, eyes closed.
Fuck. I’m no good at being sensitive, but after what she’s just told me, it seems I don’t need to be. “Er, your dad is dead.”
“WHAT?”
OK, maybe I should have softened it. “The new guy, Hector, said it happened at your brother’s engagement party. That’s where the big battle was.”
“My dad was killed? Is Cosmo OK?”
“Yeah, according to Hector.”
“Wait—the whole coup took place at Cos’s motherfucking party?” She flops back. “Fuck my life. I missed it all.”
“You don’t seem very bummed about your father.”
“I’m not. Fuck that motherfucker.”
Fair enough.
“I’ve also got some intel on your English friend,” I tell her. “It’s a real big news day for you.”
“London? What have you heard?”
Fuck, why does it piss me off that she’s so eager to hear about him.
“He’s having a fine old time in solitary. One of the Diggers was working down there yesterday, and London was laughing and singing like a crazy-man.”
She smiles softly to herself. “Sounds about right.”
Gah.
“Anyway, you’re fucking lucky not to be more injured. That was the most reckless, idiotic thing I’ve ever seen.” I hesitate for a heartbeat, then gently brush a stray, matted lock of blonde hair away from the cut on her forehead.
For a while we both just stay silent in the gloom and the heat. Eventually she cracks a lid again. “I think the mushrooms are kicking in, I feel woozy, but still fucking hurt. When is the pain going to stop?”
“You’ll be up and working in forty-eight hours. Just try not to get in any more trouble until your bruises clear up, OK?”
“It’s not like I go looking to get beat up.”
“Are you sure about that?” I ask her, grinning when she gives me the middle finger.
“You rest. I’ll be next door. No one will disturb you.”
Without opening her eyes, she gives a small smile, then winces. “Thanks, Taliesin.”
I know I should stick with my tough Digger persona, but it’s getting harder and harder around this delicate girl.
Fuck. As her breathing evens out into the slow, heavy rhythm of sleep, I smooth the hair from her face.
The cell is silent, but my head won’t shut the fuck up.
It’s telling me how fragile she looks under that moth-eaten sheet—how heartbreakingly vulnerable.
Every time I look at her, I feel the “Boss” part of me warring with a stronger urge to protect her over everyone and everything else.
The Diggers can all go to hell.
I’ve even noticed I’m attuned to her scent, she smells like life against the dead, recycled air of the prison, the laundry fumes and the sweat.
It would be so easy to slide my hand under her neck and pull her against me. I can almost feel the phantom weight of her in my arms, the way her heat would sink into my marrow and quiet the noise in my head.
But I don’t move. I can’t.
There’s a different kind of cage between us now, one I’ve built myself out of every bad choice and every blood-stained day of my life.
It’s made of the fact that I’m a fighter from the gutters and she’s a girl who still has starlight in her eyes. It’s made of her youth and an innocence that would be smothered to death by the shadows I carry.
I grip the edge of my mattress until my knuckles ache, forcing myself to look away. I’ll be her guard dog, her shield, her shadow—but I won’t be the man who destroys the last beautiful thing in this hell.