leave.
“Hungry?” Riden asks.
“Starving.”
“Good. I managed to swipe you some eggs.” Riden unlocks the cell and puts
the tray on my table, keeping a close eye on my legs. I’m certain that’s because
he’s wary of me kicking and not because he simply wants to stare. He shuts me
back in, standing safely on the other side of the bars.
I start eating at once, cracking the boiled eggs and adding a bit of salt before
chewing. I wash each one down with some water from the cup on the tray.
Riden seems to be in high spirits once again. It appears that there are no hard
feelings for last night.
“So, what’s it to be today?” I ask. “More talk of my father?”
“Yes.”
“Hoping I’ll unintentionally reveal where the keep is? You’re wasting your breath.”
“What you unintentionally reveal is up to you. What I wish to discuss is your
father’s reputation.”
“Whatever you’ve heard, it’s probably all true.”
“Nevertheless, let’s discuss it anyway.”
“I want some water,” I say, wiping at a spot of dirt on my arm.
“I’ll refill your glass when we’re done.”
“No, I want a bucket for washing. And a rag. And soap.”
“Don’t you think that’s asking a bit much for a prisoner?”
“And,” I say, practically singing the word, “I want a new one of each every
week.”
He scoffs at first. Then he thinks it over. “We’ll see how our conversation goes today. If I like what I hear, I’ll make the proper arrangements.”
I cross my legs and lean back in the chair. “Fine. Let’s talk.”
Riden pulls a chair out and sits. He’s wearing a hat today. A tricorne with no
feather. His hair is bound at the nape of his neck. His shirt and breeches fit
nicely. White on top, black on bottom.
“I’ve heard rumors of Kalligan’s dangerous deeds. He’s said to be able to take on twenty men at once in battle. He’s traveled every inch of the sea, fought off all manner of sea demons, including a shark, which he fought underwater with his bare hands. He makes deals with the devil and encourages evil in others.”
“So far, you’re not wrong,” I say.
“He’s even said to be the only man to survive an encounter with a siren.”
I snort at that.
“He even bedded her,” Riden continues. “Used the creature’s own tricks
against her. Now it sounds to me like our dear king is, at best, a manipulator and a wild storyteller. Perhaps he’s not as honest as his new laws demand.”
“He can hardly help what other people say about him.”
“And what would you say about him?”
“He’s my father. What more needs to be said?”
“There are different kinds of fathers. Those who love unconditionally, those
who love on condition, and those who never love at all. Which would you say he
is?”
For the first time, I feel Riden touching at something I’d rather leave alone. “I hardly see how this line of conversation is helpful to you.”
“Hmm. You’re deflecting the question. On condition it must be. For if he never loved you, you wouldn’t hold him in such high regard. So tell me, Alosa.
What sorts of things have you had to do to earn your father’s love?”
“The usual. Cheat. Steal. Kill.” I throw each response out offhandedly. I hope
he doesn’t detect the distress I feel.
“He’s turned you into something. Trained you to become something no
woman should ever have to be. You—”
“I am what I choose to be. You speak ignorantly. I think we’re done talking.”
Riden stands, comes close to the bars. Then, thinking better of it, he backs out
of my reach. “I meant no insult, Alosa. Consider yourself lucky. It is better to
have a little love than it is to have a father who never loved you at all.”
I know Riden speaks of himself now. But I’m still irritated. I feel as though I
need to set him straight. “Everything my father did, he did out of love. He made
me strong. He made me something that could survive in his world. Doesn’t matter what he did to get me here. I’m a fighter. The best.”
I don’t need to block the memories. That’s all they are. Memories. They can’t
hurt me. They’re done. It doesn’t matter that my father would have me fight boys older and stronger than me every day while I was growing up. Now I can