The Savior's Throne

Chapter Seventeen

I twist and turn, finally awake after a long night's sleep. After the funerals, I had to deal with all the finances involved in preparing a large funeral for 207 people. I rub the sides of head, a headache forming just from thinking about last night. 207 dead, 207 caskets to pay for, 207 families to bill. I sit up with a yawn and stretch my arms above my head.

I quickly glance over at the clock on my nightstand and see that I have one hour before my meeting with Desmond. A serious disadvantage of being ruler is no time to myself. After the war, I was bombarded with duties and obligations and meetings and paperwork. So. Much. Paperwork.

I grudgingly get up and change into a simple outfit. I roll up the sleeves of my brown shirt and then slip on a pair of socks. I wiggle my toes and look around my room. After growing up in the palace then escaping-twice-I'm back where I started. Every time I walk into my new office, I'm expecting to see Sahil. He practically spent all his time there and now he's in the ground. I sit on the bed I slept in for seventeen years and feel like the past four weeks never happened. I cross my legs and lay back on the bed, I don't feel like a queen, instead it's like I'm still following orders from other people.

A sudden knock on my door has my body groaning as I sit up. I reluctantly open the door, but once I see who's on the other side, I willingly invite them in.

"Hey, Arlo," I say. I haven't had the chance to see him since the funerals, and even then, I wasn't able to talk to him.

"Hey, how's it going."

"Pretty stressed after yesterday," I tell him honestly.

"You did good yesterday," Arlo says. I press my lips together, not quite believing him, "Thanks." Arlo sees my dubious expression and says, "I mean it."

I huff angrily, "I know, but I shouldn't even be in this situation," I look at Arlo. "He forced me onto the throne, Arlo. I didn't want this, I don't want any of this." My voice cracks and I rub my eyes with the pads of my fingertips.

"I know and I'm sorry," he looks down and I can see the guilt weighing him down. "I couldn't even help you." He sounds like I feel and I tilt my head.

"Hey, do not burden yourself with this. You couldn't stop him and that's okay."

"It's not okay though," he says.

I shake my head, "Yes, it is." Arlo looks back up at me and sighs. "Why are you so against ruling anyways?" My lips twist to the side as I think of a way to answer him. Eventually I sigh and go with the truth.

"The prophecy says an ungifted child will become evil-" Arlo opens his mouth to interrupt me, but I hold up a hand to stop him. "Bear with me, I know the prophecy isn't true, but I grew up thinking it was. I spent seventeen years believing that I was going to be evil. Sometimes, I still think that I'm going to wake up and be this horrible person and I don't want that. I don't ever want to be a bad person.

"As for ruling, power corrupts people. The worst people are often the ones in charge. I grew up without power, and now I'm in charge of a whole society, what if it all goes to my head? I'm just afraid that I'll become the tyrant everyone thinks I am."

Arlo gives me a small smile and takes a step closer to me and for the first time, I don't step away. "Power," he says, "Doesn't make people evil." He keeps walking closer to me and his proximity has heat pooling in my cheeks. His stare is captivating and I can't seem to look away from him. "You're a good person, Arie, and nothing will ever change that." Arlo lowers his head a fraction and I can't help but ask, "Are you..." he settles a hand on my cheek making me briefly forget what we're talking about, "Sure?" I eventually manage to say.