"What is so frustrating about Cisco?" Baruuk asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully, patiently waiting for my response.
"Cisco's… Cisco is, um…" My mind was filled with thoughts and feelings I shouldn't have. Hope of a future of freedom for myself and my sister — a future intertwined with Cisco's — flooded my senses.
I felt lighter in those rare moments when I'd allowed myself to dream. That future was coming to me in glimpses of moments where Hetty's life was full of joy and not pain. Moments where I chose to lead with compassion, not fear. Moments where Cisco and I were able to be what we were without pressure to be what Baruuk had designed.
I hadn't realized how much these thoughts consumed me until I had to parse through them to decide what would please and displease Baruuk.
"Well, we both know Cisco can be quite irritating. You said so yourself. He's so… unserious. And full of himself." I searched my mind for everything Cisco presented himself to be which I knew wasn't true. "And…thinks he's funny. When he's not."
Baruuk rubbed the scruff along his jaw. "So, is there any truth to what he said last night, about him proposing marriage and you refusing him?"
My heart raced. Why was this so much harder when looking Baruuk in the eyes? Why was I so confident that I could manipulate Baruuk? My mind was muddled just by being in Baruuk's presence.
On the one hand, if I admitted that we had lied, he would ask what we were trying to conceal. If I confirmed it was true, Baruuk would see through the lie. He always could. He understood me in ways I didn't.
I saw aspects of myself — proven to me by my actions, or my desire not to act. But I was beginning to suspect that my idea of who I was was largely based on who I wanted to be, not who I was. But Baruuk had studied me, he had mapped me out, and knew what path to take to use my own weaknesses against me.
But confirming Cisco had proposed, even though he hadn't, was not close to the truth, but closer than was comfortable. Whatever was growing between us was pushing us out of the boundaries of friendship and into something more expansive. Something deeper.
"Cisco was just joking," I finally said. "And I wanted to see how angry you would get at him."
"Oh?" Baruuk said. This false calm was going to burst sooner rather than later. The pending explosion would be epic. All I could do was wait, and try to minimize casualties.
I shrugged, hoping he wouldn't notice the way I picked at my cuticles to keep me from lashing out and running away. "It pleases me to see you angry with someone else for a change."
"I never anticipated you two becoming… friends? Would you say you're friends?"
Birds chirped outside. I focused on their melody. It soothed my mind, and helped me stay present. I couldn't go to my safe place among the stars. I needed to be present.
"Reluctantly," I said.
"You write to each other constantly," he said. "I thought it would be good for you to have a friend in a similar position to you. I hoped he would rub off on you. Now I fear his influence has only dragged you down."
"Cisco is a capable prince, a fearsome warrior. How do you think he's been a bad influence on me?" My heart quickened its pace. Despite my terror, I felt the irrational need to defend Cisco to Baruuk.
Baruuk glanced out the window. There was grit in his voice when he spoke. "I have never liked him," he admitted. "He has always been too concerned with being adored — by his father, his people, his enemies, everyone. Including you. He will do almost anything to charm his way into someone's heart."
I shrugged. "It is his most irritating trait."
"Irritating and worrisome." Baruuk interlaced his fingers on his swollen stomach and looked at the distant wall.
"Why worrisome?" I asked. I found myself leaning closer to Baruuk, searching his face for the answer before he spoke. Had Baruuk seen something in Cisco I hadn't? He saw so much of me I didn't want him to see. Could he read others the same way?
"Everything he does is for the sake of control." Baruuk's pale grey eyes slowly shifted to meet mine. He observed me closely. I had to guard my reaction.
"He — he's going to be king." I was reminding myself as much as I was reminding Baruuk. "He needs to be in control."
"He certainly needs to be in control of his people…" Baruuk said, nodding in agreement. He wore such a placid, vacant look. "But be careful he doesn't control you."
"Control me?" My breath hitched.
Baruuk eyed me pointedly. "I've seen the way he looks at you."
My heart lurched in my chest — out of fear or hope, I couldn't tell. The looks we exchanged while Darius droned on with Baruuk about politics came to mind. Cisco rolling his eyes and pretending to fall asleep as they spoke without regard for how bored we were. Our eyes met when Darius or Baruuk said something completely embarrassing — the laughter we tried and sometimes failed to contain.
The moments I looked up to find him already watching me. He didn't look away quickly as I did when I was caught staring at someone. He would smile, slowly and softly, then pretend to focus back on Darius and Baruuk's conversation. A few minutes later I would catch him staring again despite me shooting him glares.
I thought that was what friends did. Exchanged glances like they exchanged secrets.
"How does he look at me?" I asked, knowing I wouldn't like the answer.
"He looks at you," he said, leaning in as if telling me a secret, "like you're prey."
My heart dropped, and my stomach felt like I'd eaten something sour. "Like... prey?" I couldn't make sense of it, yet at the same time it made all too much sense. Cisco was going to be sovereign. Every sovereign I knew wanted to control anything and everything that they could. Why had I believed that Cisco would be any different?
"I've trusted Cisco with my life on countless occasions." We had fought back to back more times than I could count. If Cisco wanted me dead, all he had to do was turn around and stab me in the back. I was hard to kill thanks to my ability to rapidly heal, but it wasn't impossible.
Baruuk raised his brow, as if to say, "What else did you expect?" I couldn't believe how calm he was. If I didn't know any better, I might have thought Baruuk cared for me. I felt a swelling in my chest at the thought that Baruuk held some affection for me — I'd wanted his affection ever since I'd known him. He gave it to me in small bits, and I gobbled them up.
I felt the sensation of elation and devastation concurrently. At the same moment I finally received Baruuk's affection, I was realizing Cisco's affection might not be what I once thought it was. Both revelations were painful — I'd lived my whole life craving Baruuk's affection and I'd finally gotten it, and at the same time wondered if years of Cisco's affection were all a lie.
"At times it's easier to trust someone with your life than your heart."
I could feel the blood drain from my face.
"You do care for him." Baruuk said it as if it was a small matter, which I was grateful for.
"I thought we were friends. Maybe — maybe I was wrong." I didn't want to be wrong. Cisco was so often the only thing that felt right to me.
Baruuk scrubbed his face with his hands. He looked tired, like raising me was exhausting. "I tried so hard to train the naivety out of you." Baruuk rested his hand on my shoulder and the gesture felt like a comfort and a threat. "Lura, I know this may be hard to believe, but I've never wanted to hurt Hetty. Everything I've done is to make you stronger."
The floor dropped out from underneath me. How could that be? It didn't make sense. How would hurting my sister strengthen me?
"You give me no choice. I have done it all these years to teach you one vital lesson — the most important lesson — which you have failed to master. You are a compassionate person. But compassion and mercy are not virtues — not for people with our kind of power. Humans are leeches, Lura. Any weakness they perceive in you they'll use to their advantage. Your willingness to prioritize others' well being above your own will be your downfall."
Prioritizing Hetty's safety had only ever caused me pain, but it was pain that Baruuk caused. My greatest source of pain wasn't what others inflicted on me — it was Baruuk. I couldn't allow myself to believe these lies.
"Remember when you were a child, rumors had flown about you. Some revered you, others feared you, all before even witnessing your power. But do you remember that time in the street close to the Vydonian border? They shot you, and when you didn't prove your strength to them, they beat you. People don't like what is different. They called you a monster. That coupled with your tendency to fall for any sad story and false tears is a recipe for disaster."
That memory came into sharp focus for the second time in two days.
"Do you think Cisco has even a drop of compassion or mercy in his body?" He leaned in, begging me to consider. "He has committed war crimes I would never dare to commit. And I wouldn't ask you to commit them either. And don't even get me started on whether or not he knew you had a sister. If he knew your compassion and knew you had a sister, I have no doubt he would do worse to Hetty for far more selfish reasons."
Cisco had suddenly wanted to seize Baruuk's throne once he learned about Hetty — was his ardent concern just an act?
"I want you to rise above our people. Cisco would make you his puppet. And worse, if he somehow convinced you to form a romantic attachment… well, do you remember what I taught you about sex?"
"That it's a means to control or be controlled…" I began. He joined me in uttering the latter part of the refrain. "And nothing more."
Sex hadn't even entered my mind, but if I followed my feelings to their natural conclusion, would Cisco have been able to convince me to bring sex into our relationship? I shuddered to think of it. I had no desire to control or be controlled. Sex was out of the question. But could I have let it get that far?
Doubt threaded through me. How could I trust the man who beat my sister? How could I not trust my closest friend? Baruuk had given me every reason to distrust him, and Cisco had given me none, at least nothing tangible. Not until then.
I didn't want it to be true.
I reconsidered every shared joke, every stolen glance, every misadventure, every victory shared, every loss mourned. My friendship with Cisco was threaded through me. Like the binding of a book, his friendship held me together in ways I was sure he was unaware of. And if what Baruuk said was true, he could never know.
I needed to get to the bottom of this. And I needed distance from them both to figure it out. The fiber of my being was being torn in two, pulled between two possible realities. It was dizzying.
When I stood to leave my body didn't feel my own. Its movements felt clunky and awkward. Whose body was this that I was inhabiting? It didn't feel like mine. When I stood I nearly toppled into Baruuk's lap. My vision warped. Baruuk suddenly seemed far away, like a distant memory which I struggled to recall.
"S-send us to Quantum Fortress. I'll remind Cisco who he's dealing with."
Baruuk smirked a crooked smile that made the room spin. "Maybe I did raise you right after all."