Speaking of which, I open one eye and twist my head towards her. She’s leaning over, and I get a view of her creamy skin, her breasts swelling into the deep vee of her robe. She’s definitely not modest in her attire, so this getup isn’t for me, but nothing is sexier than a woman who’s this confident in her own skin.

Maybe a small, feeble part of me wishes this getup were for me, and I try to tell myself no. I shouldn’t be getting a hard-on for her, but I’m also sure I’m not imagining her interest.

Or maybe I am.

Maybe I’m hoping because I’m so starved for . . . everything. My brain is just fucked-up and sending the wrong signals. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asks. “Besides the obvious, of course.”

The obvious is solving this mess. Figuring out who should be leading Aphelion. Finding Atlas and bringing him the justice he deserves. Deciding what brand of justice is suitable for his crimes.

“Probably not,” I say. “Unless you can wave your hand and take me away from all of this forever.”

She gives me a sad smile. “You know you really wouldn’t want that. You are loyal to your kingdom and your king. You could never abandon them.”

I snort wryly and take another swig of my drink.

“You want to bet?”

The worst part is that as much as I don’t want her words to be true, they probably are. And that makes me an idiot. I want to be able to pick up and walk away. Go down to the docks, board a boat to some other, distant land, and never look back. Rewrite my history and erase my existence.

But she’s right. I’m a sucker, and I don’t have the guts.

“Maybe there’s something else,” I say as my eyes dip again to her impressive cleavage. I pull them back up, not wanting to stare like a lech. Her smile suggests she knows what I was just doing and doesn’t mind. Noted.

“What?” she asks, giving me a mock innocent smile. “What could possibly take your mind off all of this?” She sweeps out a hand, and she has a point. But I’m desperate for a distraction. I don’t want to think about anything important. Nothing that matters too much. The pain of this constant responsibility is caving my shoulders inwards. Once upon a time, I was forced into a life of subservience, but maybe that’s what suited me.

It turns out I’m much happier when someone else makes the decisions and faces the harsh consequences of those actions. I can’t help but feel like I’m doing everything wrong.